(Slug, that ripoff your doing of Voyager is so like the original. :))

Karrde stared at the tactical Holoscreens in disbelief. Half a million Audemedon ships had taken Anglagard and Sol as if they had just been minor outposts! The majority of the Eleejeetian fleet had taken to long to mobilise to take part in those battles. The wing of 6 cruisers that had arrived in time at Anglagard had been reduced to 1 ship. That ship had sent a heavily-encrypted hypercomm message to the Eleejeetian gateship, stating where they were retreating to, tactical data and potential Audemed weaknesses that could be exploited. The Gateship had it's defenses heavily enhanced; it now sported 50 Onas pulse turrets, a Jammer and 75 newo beam turrets. The Wild Karrde was part of a fleet of 500 ships, 300 of which were cruisers. 50 Carriers were the core fleet, and formed a defensive sphere which was almost inpenetrable. His personal ship was part of a squadron of 12 mod. HVC. They would be tasked with exploiting potential Audemed weaknesses. The 150 remaining gunships would enhance the defenses of the Sphere. The Elejeetian primary Armada was heading for Lalande. The Ishiman gateship would shut down the Hyperspace-fold generator as soon as they were in range. The Gateship was more important to them then the entire rest of the fleet combined. It must not be allowed to be lost...

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"Sergeant, you can't fire that in here! We're indoors!"
"Only until I pull the trigger, Captain!" -Terry Pratchett

The Silverlock, Cicero Brownstone's modified gunship, sped towards the border station on the edge of UNS space. His upgraded sensors detected the station's scanners sweeping over and into his ship as he approached the docking bay. Once docked, he donned his black cloak and walked to the small tavern in the place. A few Humans and a pair of Ishimans occupied the barstools, and a few assorted beings were seated at the tables. Cicero took a seat at a corner table and watched a tri-dee broadcasting the news. He had heard something about a Salrilian attack on UNS space.

His eyes widened and he sat bolt upright when he heard the news. Earth itself had been taken. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. He may not have visited Earth lately, but it was his home planet. After he heard the news he was no longer in the mood to peddle his wares, even at reasonable prices. He quickly set his mind to one goal: Getting to Earth.

He had slipped past blockades and military occupational forces many times, a few Sal fleets wouldn't be too hard to slip by, especially since he was a licensed free trader with numerous forged identities. His mind was dedicated whether the odds were good or not. He walked to the bar and plunked a coin of solid silver on the table. "Give me a bottle of something that'll cut through a reinforced bulkhead." The bartender took the coin and fetched a bottle from the cabinet below the bar, handing it to Cicero. Taking the bottle, Cicero walked back into his ship and began to plan.

N'tek stared into blackness. His ship, his best officers, gone. The Audemedon ships had barely noticed the repulser fire as they plowed through the UNS's resistance- so it would become again, only a resistance. He had barely had enough time to transfer from the Liantasse to the Terminal. He lay in his chamber now, recently cleared for him. No special amenities, treatment. He had no diplomatic title to a government that didn't officially exist. N'tek Ktana stood up, and went to the simulators. The next 12 hours were nothing but grueling combat, but it would soon become worth the torment.

(Raise pilot skill to Above Average)

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-Pallas Athene of Dysian Beta, Obish Consensus Representative
-Nieru Dast, {M}ilitia Aeriane
-Danae Vernius
ThinkFish, and good things will come.

He had done it. With the Trey'sh of the defence comitee behind him, he had managed to convince the Trey'sh of Production to take his side. The Production commitee was an important ally, they controlled the factories, and their support made a strong statement.
The minister of defence had engaged a draft call from the Navy Reserve on all the protectorate worlds. Those that had ships and fleets of their own committed them, and the Ishiman Naval Academy immediately admitted several new classes of mixed crew applicants.

The one shipyard that was actually controlled by the Navy was already churning out HVDs and Elejeetian Modified HVCs. Three major facilities had been converted to unit production, and were produceing substantial numbers of ships already.

So far the public response was good too. The humans were very popular with the Ishiman people, their fight for freedom had been widely televised, and many Ishimans thought that the Humans were a noble cause. Now, they saw it as the duty of the protectorate to protect the sovreign space of the Stellar Protectorate that had been violated by the sinister Prophets of Salril.

The full activation of the production facilities would take another thirty six hours, but once it was done, they would be able produce ships at an extreme rate. Human pilots were already being flown in to begin training alongside Ishimans and other protectorate races. The Trey'sh of the Reestablishment comitee finally felt like he had done something for the Humans he had been chartered to protect.

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Faris eck Vaenar Maletena-Wizr, Trey'ish of the Ishiman reestablishment comittee.
"I don't think I'm alone when I say that I'd like to see more and more planets fall under the ruthless domination of our solar system."

(Well, we're well on the way to a finished first chapter! Good job everyone. Slug, or some other RPG mod, would you like to start a new chapter? It seems like a good point to break into a new thread. Just to keep things organized.)

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Ne Cede Malis Sed Contra Audientor Ito

(Spamo: Maybe we should, or maybe we should leave it just a little longer to raise suspense a little...)

The Obish gateship was small and badly powered compared to those of other races; the Gaitori, during their wars with them, rarely cut off their jumpgates; a gateship was rarely needed.

Still, it was powerful enough to pick up the two Escorts stranded in the Sol system. The Starbeam was soon in friendly space.

With N'tek gone, the Obish had no contact with the former UNS. A new team was formed, the UNS assistance team. It was largely a part of the Tactical Response Team, and was made up of the TRT carrier, three escorts, a gunship and a new, experimental, Pearl-class Heavy Cruiser.

The Starbeam sped in formation with the other ships. They knew that the Elejeetians could tell them where the UNS had retreated to, so it was to them that the newly-formed team headed.

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Subcommander g'Var "8 Lightnings" Krai'un
Second in command of the Escort Starbeam.
"CRUISER DESTROYED. 91 remaining" -Ares, chapter 9, Hand Over Fist

(Okay, suspense good.)

Spamo sat in his command chair on the UNS Mariposa. The remnants of the great UNS fleets were gathered in the Chorca system, one of the Ishiman Stellar Navy's staging areas. Of the three fleets that the UNS had, there were only two left. Losses exceeded the amount needed to maintain 3 fleets, so ships were reassigned to only two fleets. Two sparse fleets. Now, all the surving humans were gathered for an address from their de facto leader.

Spamo stood and faced the screen that showed the ships arrayed before him.

"Men and women of the UNS, we have once again been forced from our homelands. First, Earth had been conquered by the zealous and power-hungry Cantharans. Humanity suffered through it, and endured hardships beyond speaking. In the end, we took back our home, and were reunited with our loved ones. We vowed that humanity would never again fall under the power of another."

"Now, Earth has once again fallen to a foreign power. The Prophets of Salril have found it not to their liking that humanity become a power in this galaxy. Our tenacity and courage defeated them in the Ares war, as they tried to prevent us from capturing our planet from the Cantharans. Now, the Prophets have taken Earth for themselves and humanity is once again on the run. What you see in this system is the last of the UNS navy, our best hope of retaking earth."

"Today, we start a campaign agaisnt our oppressors. We shall fight to our last man, our last ship to retake the Earth. The Prophets of Salril will no longer meddle with other races with impunity. They will find that in attacking Earth, they have bit off more than they can chew! Hereforth, war is declared upon the Prophets of Salril and all that support and assist them. No quarter shall be given, as none was given to us. We shall not be alone! The Ishimans, along with the Obish, Eleejeetians and several other races will stand with us. They too have felt the scourge of the Salrillians, and now they have the chance to strike at them. Earth shall not have been lost in vain! We shall strike back at the black heart of Salril, and crush them, so that they may not oppress the galaxy any longer."

Spamo watched as the bridge broke out in applause, and applause from the rest of the fleet thundered over the comm.

"We shall moblize our resistance forces as soon as possible. The separate fleets have been given thier orders. Good hunting!"

With that, the comm channel closed. Spamo sat back down in his command chair. The UNS resistance had begun.

(edit: Start a new topic called Chapter One: The Year of Hell)

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Ne Cede Malis Sed Contra Audientor Ito

(This message has been edited by Slug (edited 01-08-2001).)