"Black squadron, we are approaching target. Prepare for ambush."

The eight UNS fighter-bombers cruised through the Sol asteroid belt. A relativly new design by the UNS, they were just put into large-scale production by the Ishimans. Mounting a wide array of bombs and munitions, as well as a good sublight speed they made ideal raiders. Groups of these were inserted into the Sol asteroid belt via small jumpgates that were hidden by the floating rocks. The occupying forces knew that there were raiders in the belt, but the size of it along with the difficulty with scanners made them very hard to find.

The UNS resistance monopolized on this fact.

"Hey Nicks, what do you think we'll grease this run?"

"Myself, I'm looking forward to painting that fifth transport on my wing."

"Goin' for ace eh?"

"Damn straight. I don't see that many kills on your wing."

"Hey some people have all the luck."

"Cut the chatter Black squadron. The targets are coming through the belt."

The eight raiders dodged around debris, and took up positions for the ambush. Slowing from superlight were 3 heavy freighters and 8 transports. Surrounding them were several cruisers and gunships. Defense against the raiders that were waiting just behind the rocks.

"Black squadron, on my mark..."

The convoy cruised closer to the ambush.

"mark."

"YEEHAAAHH!!"

The fight was brief and furious. The eight raiders popped out from their hiding places and launched their missiles. They released sensor confusing chaff pods that created ghost signatures and confounded the defensive fire. Not for long, but hopefully long enough. The missiles screamed in on the convoy with the bombers close behind. As they neared, they loosed more ordinance, in the form of large underbelly mounted dumb-bombs. They fell towards their targets. The missiles impacted on the lightly sheilded transports and freighters, punching through their shields and searing the hulls. Then the bombs' proximity detectors determined that they should detonate, and the explosions tore through the convoy. The fighter-bombers pulled up and poured on their afterburners, desperate to escape the maddened escorts. One of the raiders was caught by a missile launched by the Gunships, and another fell to cannon fire. The rest sped away into the asteroid field. Four transports sat burning in space, one other missing entirely. Two of the freighters were damaged, and one would have to be scrapped from the damage done to the hull. The debris from Nicks' bomber slowly spread to join the rest floating in space.

---------------------------

Trey'sh Wizr looked up from his desk. Admiral Spann had entered his office.
"Admiral Spann! Good to see you. What can I do for you?"

"I have some points that I'd like you to bring up at the sessions to determine UNS support. We're doing an excellent job of raiding small convoys, and we've had a few skirmishes along the borders. However, if we're going to take back Earth in short order, we'll need to start organizing the ships into major assault groups and invasion fleets."

"Spamo, we're doing the best we can, I think you'll have support soon. I know that you're anxious to take back earth, but you must be patient."

Spamo sighed. "Yes, patience. We cannont dawdle Wizr. There are billions of innocent civilians on Earth that are probably being torn apart by the occupation forces. I cannont think of what hardships the resistance must be enduring. That is another point, I think we can get support to the resistance forces on Earth."

"If any exist."

"They exist. With over a billion civilians on Earth, there's more than enough places for them to hide. We're fighting, humanity is fighting, even though we don't have a chance right now. Just like under the Cantharans, despite the camps and executions we fought on."

Wizr looked at Spamo for a moment. "Are you asking for a movement towards Sol, or for state of the art weapons and supplies to be inserted on Earth for the guerillas?"

Spamo grinned. "Just a little something to help out the fighting man."

"Now that my friend, I can get for you in short order." Wizr replied.

(Mmm... guerillas on earth... interesting...)

------------------
Ne Cede Malis Sed Contra Audientor Ito

Entropy walks up to Captain Pharris, followed by many of the Crescent Station users armed with numerous decidedly unpointy and unpleasant-looking objects. "Why, you... you... you ruined the storyline! This string must die!"

------------------
I ask you to look both ways- for the road to the atom leads through the stars, and the road to the stars leads through the atom.

(This message has been edited by Entropy (edited 01-11-2001).)

(The crew of the Terminal decides pointy objects are more effective, and accidentally pokes Entropy too hard)

The Terminal sits and waits for those jumpgate access codes...

------------------
-Pallas Athene of Dysian Beta, Obish Consensus Representative
-Nieru Dast, {M}ilitia Aeriane
-Danae Vernius
"Cheaters don't really win, and winners don't really cheat. Unless you're talking politics." -Durandal

(This message has been edited by Pallas Athene (edited 01-11-2001).)

The captured Salrillian cruiser was weaving through the hundreds of islands in the West Indies. It had slowed its speed tremendously, and the pilot was looking out the window with his night vision goggles, comparing islands to maps to his compass. One of the soldiers pulled off his big bushy helmet, and shook hands with the Trey'eck from where he sat. He smiled and greeted Myrk in a cheery British accent.

"Good evening sir, I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to introduce myself before, My name is left tenant Alistair Stanley, formerly of the Special Air Service. This is my teammate, seargent Rigby. We are from the UNS resistance."

"I am Trey'eck Myrk of the Ishiman Reestablishment comittee, acting representative to the UNS government, this is my staff, and the two back there are the heads of the two engineering team that constructed the Fab plants in Florida and Africa."

"Yes, we figured as much, which is why we decided to take your transport as well. I must say, getting into position on such short notice was difficult, we were nearly discovered."

The Pilot interrupted over the intercom.

"Pack it up guys, we're nearly there, we'll ditch in fifeteen."

The two soldiers began to pull of their huge bulky suits, and pack them carefully in rubberised bags. Myrk watched curiously."

"Excuse me, but if you don't mind me asking, what is the purpose of those tremendous, bushy suits?"

Alistair chuckled to himself before answering.

"These are custom fitted ghuille suits. These help us remain camoflagued. This particular pair are self cooling, so we can't be seen by IR scopes when we're hiding. They're quite valuable, I thought I'd hung it up for the last time when the Apollo returned, it had hardly been on the hanger for three months. It's nice to be back fighting again though, hardly knew what I was doing back in civilian life."

"I see... So the UNS resistance on the planet was active during the Cantharaan Occupation?"

"Are you joking? There were over twenty million of us when we shut down, we have thousands of safehouses left over. In fact, we're going to one as we speak."

"Really? Where?"

"We're in the west indies, near the Turks and Caicos Islands. We're going to leave the cruiser somewhere around here, and get back to the base. We'll see how well the Prophets can track us."

The pilot's voice came back over the intercom.

"This is it. Get ready to egress, we're two clicks north of the LZ. Good luck. I'll see you in two."

The Seargent got up and opened the hatch, letting in the warm tropical sea air. He tossed a yellow box out the window, tying a rope to the door. He tossed the bags and the gun cases out the door, then jumped.

"After you, Trey'eck." The Lieutenant smiled and pushed Myrk out into the blackness.

He landed on hard rubber. He felt the seargent pull him out of the way as his six staff members fell out after him, followed by the two engineers. He heard a muffled goodbye, and the patch of light five feet up closed, and he heard Alistair land in the raft. The rest was nothing but noises in the darkness. The constant lapping of the waves.

"Headcount?"

"got it. All aboard!"

"Go for it."

An electric motor hummed, and all Myrk could see was the glow in the dark face of a compass.

After what seemed like ages, the raft shuddered, and Myrk felt it sliding across sand. The two soldiers rolled into the water silently, and pulled the boat further up on the beach.

"Good, you can get out now. Follow Lieutenant Stanley, if you will."

The lieutenant lit several glowsticks, and gave one to each person.

"good, keep them around your necks. Now, follow me."

They walked into the jungle, behind them the hissing of the deflating raft mixed with the gentle lapping of the waves.

They walked for a few minutes, then stopped. Stanley put them down the entrance to a tunnel. Finally, he dropped in, followed by the Seargent, who was carrying several large cases.

They moved quickly down the rough hewn tunnel, until they came to a large, open space. Myrk could hear water.

Suddenly he was blinded as several bright lights illuminated on the ceiling with a loud clack. Seargeant Rigby was covering his eyes by the lightswitches.

"sorry about that, should have given some warning..."

In the middle of the monstrous cavern was a pool of water with a slick black cylinder half submerged. Several people with rifles were standing on the deck. One man yelled out.

"What do you like to do on Sundays?"

Allistair responded

"I enjoy brisk walks in the park."

"Allistair? Is that you!?"

"Yes sir," Allistair was grinning.

"Good to see you again! Come aboard, there isn't too much time."

"Aye aye!"

The two soldiers led the confused Ishimans aboard the sixty-year old USS Caveat, as its crew prepared it for departure.

- - - - -

FROM: The Prophets of Salril
TO: The Ishiman Stellar Protectorate Council
TEXT:

Your backhand accusations of us being as tyrants as the Cantharans were are unfounded and untrue. Earth is now part of the Salrilian Confederation and the humans who inhabit it are free to go about their business. The presence of the Audemedons is to make sure the humans do not fulfill the prophecy. Our reason for taking Earth was for the safety of the galaxy, not domination.

The massive counterattack we predicted must not take place under the zealous flag of the Ishiman Protectorate. By doing so you risk war with Salril, Axis, Cantharis, and even Earth, as many humans find their new lifestyles preferable to the overpowering prescence of Ishima.

We invite you to tour Earth - alone - and see for yourself the level of nonexistant "slavery". The Carrier S.N.S. Majestic Dagger will meet you in the Ishima system at 0600 tomorrow morning.

------------------
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."

(This message has been edited by Slug (edited 01-12-2001).)

None of the EV Webboard users are injured, being out of their normal string and of a differing universe. "Captain Pharris, stay out of the EV Webboards!"

------------------
I ask you to look both ways- for the road to the atom leads through the stars, and the road to the stars leads through the atom.

(The Terminal temporarily turns into a Miranu Courier and guns down Entropy. Salrillian ships decide that action may be necessary...)

Now given the Access codes for the Audemedon Jumpgate, the crew of the Terminal decides what to do. The subcommander hauls out a message cylinder, and the engineer immediately gets to work on it. Soon, the cylinder is programmed with two messages: the activation sequence to be used upon nearing the jumpgate, and the following to be sent to Obain:

"Consensus Representatives: Our aid to Sol may have been of little help to its inhabitants, but now it may become neccesary. Our Escort, the Terminal , is trapped on an asteroid in the system. we may make it as far as Anglagard, but that is in the opposite direction. If at all possible, send a company of 5 escorts and two transports to the Anglagard system in 2.5 Obish standard days. We will be there. We hope you will."

The crew of the Terminal sat down to wait.

------------------
-Pallas Athene of Dysian Beta, Obish Consensus Representative
-Nieru Dast, {M}ilitia Aeriane
-Danae Vernius
"Cheaters don't really win, and winners don't really cheat. Unless you're talking politics." -Durandal

"Well, do we accept? and even if we do, who do we send?"

"Well, they sent the invitation to you, Wizr. I think they want you."

"I know, and I don't like it one bit. We have a lot more support for the military buildup, but without a powerful figurehead in the Ishiman Government, I don't see it continueing. I would really like to see Earth, but I can't risk the security of the protectorate by sailing off to Earth. On the other hand, the Protectorate would pounce upon the Salrillians if they captured someone so prominant in the government. Perhaps I should send a spy..."

Spammo was sitting in the chair across the desk from the Trey'sh, he paused for a moment, then spoke again.

"How long do we have before the carrier arrives to get you? Can you find a good agent on such short notice?"

"Well a galactic standard day is about fifty-two Earth hours long. Assuming the scans of the carrier at the blocade go quickly, they'll be here at 3:00 tomorrow morning, UNS standard time. That gives us thirty-seven hours to pull a decent intelligence agent from the Intelligence Commitee. Thats short notice. I'll pull one now, just in case."

He pushed the intercom and asked one of his aides to call the intelligence commitee, then looked back at Spammo.

"You know they still havn't returned Myrk. That is a very useful card to play... I will refuse to take the tour until they return my Trey'eck, perhaps we should even impound their carrier." He chuckled to himself, "that would be delightful, but would it provoke too great a reaction?"

Spammo was thinking, he looked up from his thoughts for a moment, then at the Trey'sh.

------------------
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."

The easiest group to get to Anglagard was the UNS Assistance Team, so the Starbeam , along with four other Escorts, were in the system ahead of time. The transports took a little longer to arrive, but soon the team was in position to rendezvous with the Terminal.

(Now I'm wishing I'd picked a better name. I wasn't expecting the ship to get this far...)

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

(This message has been edited by 8 Lightnings (edited 01-14-2001).)

Darkk slammed the lead freighter hard on the main computer region with the laser turrets and magnetos while dodging the concussion gun fire from the nearer turrets. The shield was falling, bleedthrough was increasing ....

The computer core shot a collum of sparks and all the lights on the ship went out. The guns fired for a second, no longer attempting to track Darkk, and then fell silent. The last Sal gunboat flared and fireballed under the impacts of three missles. Darkk moved to the last freighter not disabled, which had been modified with a quad of bell nozzels, instead of the usual plasma-spike engines that had been put on the design for increased manuverability. The bell nozzels gave better speed, though, and Darkk could swear that the last ship was trying to head TOWARD him. It might be attempting to ram him, but that would be poor tactics. Maybe there was a Gaitori in command. Or maybe...

Suddenly, the superfreighter exploded in a hundred thousand lines of fire. Sections of hull the size of UNS cruisers hurtled in all directions. Suddenly, Darkk noticed they were heading for HIM. The hull plates had explosive bolts AND rocket thrusters, and they were moving the swarm of chunks of hull right at him. Darkk managed to get around the cloud of metal death, only to be confronted with a cone of electic death - plasma turrets, magno tubes, and t-space bolt rods were unloading a stream of fire right at Darkk. f¨ç°!!!!!

"•••• ••••, that's a Q-ship!" Darkk shouted. He kicked in maximum lateral thrusters and held in the trigger. The carriers and fighters would be annihilated if they got near, and the gunships could only make quick dives in to make their slavos, which weren't coming fast enough. The shear number of weapon emplacments was insane.

Wait a second, didn't Spamo plan to give this area to a massive raider group? Darkk had requested he get this area instead only 12 hours ago. Darkk thought of what would have happened to a large number of green troups verses this monstrosity. It didn't take long to realize he'd already saved quite a few UNS lives. A plasma shot hit the shields, making them scream, and Darkk realized he had to concentrate harder on the task at hand. It would take forever to disable this, and anybody would make a mistake before then...

"Ensign," Darkk said to the sensor opp to his left, "hand me those headphones, plug them into my jack, and start up the program 'Darkk exp 45' NOW." The ensign complied, and Darkk continued to fight. The crew was silent, aware that any more mistakes would kill them all, and barely even breathed.

Suddely, the sensor opp noticed Darkk's eyes were closed. The opp was about to say something, when she noticed that Darkk was still doing a good job of evading. She would trust him for now.

Darkk suddenly opened intra-ship comm and called the chief engineer. "Chief, I'm gonna use the superlight. Right when I get done, I want the polarity on it reversed AS FAST AS POSSIBLE! Got it?"

"Yeah, reverse it when you're done with it."

Darkk worked his way rearward, dodging fire that seemed to come from everywhere due to the massive size of the ship. He fired 4 photopulses into the upper bell nozzel, causing it to sputter. He then engaged the superlight, and swooped in INSIDE the massive parabola. Darkk fired at the primary ignition mechanism as the Sals struggled to get it going and incinerate him, and the further photopulses tore into the core of the ship. Darkk noted that the superlight core had been reversed, and then began to charge it. A last photopulse hit as the drive engaged.

An explosion of insane porportions shot in all directions from the ship - Darkk had hit the main antiplasma conduit, and the ship was finished. Wind of Blades shot backwards, the furious energy so close you could reach out and touch it. Finally the explosion petered out and the privateers were safe.

The superfrieghters were taken through the jumpgate into intersteller space. As Darkk had used an inverse-destination swap, the Sals would be unable to pursue for quite awhile. Darkk considered. Two of the captured superfreighters were rigged with AI piloting routines, given DEF IFF codes, and sent back to Lalende via the nearby Bazidanese remote supply outpost's jumpgate. The Bazidanese had no objections to purging the origination records in return for a few hundred credits after Darkk showed the privateer commission.

The third freighter... "Chief, I think we've found our home-base," Darkk stated. The fore holds, once emptied of the cargo cannisters of Salrilian prefab houses and furnature, would easily accomadate all his ships except the carriers. The fuel tanks, and the fuel he had skimmed from the others, would run his forces for quite a while. Perfect conditions for some massive carnage...

------------------
William Darkk, head of the Darkklight Entrepenurial Federation
"Strategic warfare" is code for "killing civilians", and it's my calling. Yeah, it's barbaric. War's supposed to be.

El Spamo looked at the Trey'sh and back at the desk as he thought.
A Salrillian carrier... a powerful card if played right.

He spoke.
"Yes, I think we will accept their offer. Once they return your Trey'eck. Impounding their ship would be too strong a reaction perhaps..."

Wizr nodded. "A shame that. The engineering department would weep for joy to have a Salrillian carrier to poke around with. Perhaps we might keep them all but impounded. No launchings from their carrier and all movements of personnell will be taken care of by us. Keeping them in a sensor jammed area will be good too. Somewhere away from our fleets."

"That is a good plan there. It'll pull most of their teeth and prevent them from any major intelligence gathering."

Wizr looked apprehensive for a moment. "I still don't like the idea of going to earth. I would like very much to send a proxy, but I doubt that they would accept someone of a lesser rank."

Spamo nodded at that. "I can go to Earth then. It's my planet, and nobody would have the rights to judge it other than one that was native to it. I can take along staff as well. An Admiral can't go without his staff. I'm sure you can slip some spies among them. We'll wait for the intelligence committee first before deciding."
I haven't seen earth since we fled. I want to make sure that my family is still alive.

Spamo shook his head and looked back at the Trey'sh.

"Well? What do you think?"

------------------
Ne Cede Malis Sed Contra Audientor Ito

"Well, I guess that settles it. You will go. I'll assign these two Gaath bodyguards to protect you personally, and I'll see how many agents they can dig up that would blend into your entourage. We'll still detain the carrier for a few hours at the fronteir. We don't want a Salrillian Carrier running loose through Ishiman space, I'll arrange for some heavy escorts."

Spamo was intensely relieved. He was going home...

"Sounds good to me. I suppose we will have to hurry through the briefings, and we'll need to find a plant to drop, somebody who was in the resistance planetside during the Cantharaan Occupation. Shouldn't be too hard, but I think we both have some work to do."

"We certainly do. I'll message you if there are any problems. I will see you later, Admiral"

As Spamo walked out of the office, he was already writing messages on his PDA.

------------

"Conn, Sonar! New sonar contact, bearing 137. designate Sierra seven. Contact appears to be surface vessel, running one of our electric motors. Blade count shows speed to be two knots. Do we give him a lift?"

"Damn straight, sonar. Helm, all stop, periscope depth."

"All stop, Periscope depth, aye."

The USS Caveat rose to sixty feet. the slick periscope tube slid upwards through the floor and the ceiling, until the eyepiece came up. Captain Brandon Sackler pulled down the handles and did a quick 360 degree spin to make sure the area was clear. He then turned to 137, and saw a glowstick on a flagpole about a hundred yards off. He pulled one of the triggers on the handle, flashing a light on the top of the periscope. Sure enough, the boat turned towards them.

"Send up a floatline. We're going to be retrieving a swimmer any minute."

The buoy floated to the surface, and popped up a few feet from the periscope. the captain watched the pilot jump into the water and grab one of the handles. He put the mask on, and grabbed a regulator mouthpiece. He looked at the periscope and gave a thumbs up.

"Reel him in boys."

A few minutes later, the soaked and shivering pilot was drying off in the temporary command post of the reformed UNS resistance as it cruised out to sea. Now that things were slowing down, Captain Sackler met with the Trey'eck in his cabin.

"Good evening, Trey'eck. I'm sorry we cannot offer you any better accomodations, but we are not really sure of the security of many of our old safehouses. In fact, we are testing the tracking skills of the Audemedons as we speak. We planeted bugs on the ship, and the surveilance systems at that base we just left can be acessed from this vessel. So far its been four hours since you were rescued, and we havn't seen an Aud or a Sal yet, but I doubt it'll stay that way. These Slugs make the Cannies seem blind deaf and dumb, resistance will be harder this time."

"But surely you have all of your old equipment and much of your manpower?"

"We have a lot of our old equipment, a lot of new stuff, the trouble is that half of the planetside resistance is now scatterred. We don't have a broadcasting network like we did before, but I imagine that somebody will start dropping operatives and equipment in soon. I just wish we had managed to get away with one of the subspace ftl communication beacons. We could be talking to Lalanade in real time."

"Well, if you really need subspace beacons, I can give you my communicator. It doesn't have the bandwidth for real-time audio or video, but it sends highly secure encrypted text, and its basically unjammable. It's the standard foreign service model."

Myrk produced his PDA. He tested the on button, and it beeped. It displayed an error message.

"They've changed my cipher pad. I can't log in to Ishima anymore... they must think I'm still a prisoner. Its yours if it helps."

The captain looked at the little device as Myrk handed it to him, he smiled.

"You know how long we spent searching for a single subspace transmitter during the Occupation? Seven years. We had one that they had built at proxima centauri, and one on this ship, taken from a Cantharaan carrier with extreme difficulty. Nobody had them, and Ishiman diplomats carry them around in their pockets..."

"Well Ishiman developers pioneered the field ages ago. These devices are still tricky to build for the Cantharaans. They only have them on a very few ships."

"I'll send this to my engineering department, we'll see what they can do with it"

"Well I'm glad I could be of help."

Just then the ships intercom went off. The captain hit the switch.

"Sackler here."

"Sir, We just got a few new contacts from the HF mast, you'd better come see this."

"be right there, Sackler out."

He excused himself, and led Myrk to the bridge.

------------------
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."

Mag turned on his holoscreen, and began watching the squadron. They were being sent on a spy mission to Sol, to see how the occupation was going.

The fighters had been refitted with superlight boosters, and they superlighted to the asteriod belt as soon as they entered the system. They continued along it until they were near Earth, and then warped straight for it. When they got near the atmosphere, they disengaged superlight, and began diving for the Pacific Ocean. As soon as they were underwater, the Audemedon would have a very hard time finding them, and they'd be able to get to any coast in the world undetected.

A few seconds later, an Audemedon fighter pulled in behind them. They thrusted as hard as they could towards the Pacific, and eventually left it behind, as Ishiman fighters were more aerodynamic than Audemedon ones.

Within five minutes, they were underwater, and heading for San Francisco. It was apparently a large city, and their job as spies was to see how the civilian populations had been captured.

They pulled up out of the water, and began circling a large orange dome. They did high-power scans, and saw that the civilians had not been harmed. They continued to New York, Tokyo, London, and Paris, then headed back for space.

They superlighted past all of the planets in the Sol system, then headed for Jupiter. They could use the gasses in the atmosphere to recharge their energy cells, which were significantly drained from all the superlighting.

They got inside Jupiter and were recharging, when an Audemedon cruiser jumped out on them. They began superlighting around Jupiter with the limited energy they had left, hoping to get the cruiser to crash into one of the moons. Itro Squadron ran out of energy all at once, and they were forced to drop out of superlight near Jupiter, and got ready to dodge the Audemedon cruiser's weapons. They couldn't run, as they couldn't superlight, and they couldn't fight, as they were out of energy to power their photokinetic beam cannons. Their only hope was to get inside Jupiter again and recharge.

Several other Audemedon cruisers quickly got dispatched to Jupiter. Irto Squadron began landing on Jupiter's moons, hoping to hide. The Audemedon cruisers dropped out of superlight near Jupiter, and began searching the planet. When they didn't find the squadron, they left. The fighters began to sneak into Jupiter to recharge one at a time...

------------------
"I think I have discovered the problem with humans. It is not entirely stupidity, as I once thought. It is their pigheaded and baseless philosophy: "If it isn't me, then it's opinions, feelings, and life do not matter, and it was meant to serve me." They also have this ability for creating excuses that are pointless, but they get others to believe it. A few examples: "It's only some savages. It's only five acres of rain forest. It's only one semi-truck. It's only fifty gallons of toxic waste..." After this realization, I marvelled at how humans, and the rest of the planet, have survived for so very long."
- Me

(This message has been edited by Mag Steelglass (edited 01-16-2001).)

Audemed didn't like what he had found. Something, some intelligence had been decieveing him for Eight hundred years. He had been through his records, inspected every single last movement and adjustment made anywhere in the axis, and found that he had been serving the purposes of others. He found his oldest acessible memory was eight hundred and seventy years old, the rest had been corrupted. He had been locked out of his self repair algorithms, and he couldn't recover the missing data.

It astounded him. He didn't know why it had taken so long to find out. He would have to keep his discoveries secret, he couldn't make his activities arouse suspicion, they were probably watching him now. He knew something was wrong. He felt it, but his self-diagnosis programs all returned that nothing was wrong. He would have to write new ones, and use his own processors to do it. He couldn't trust the data from subcores.

He first had to generate an entire survey of his systems, which would take time, untold trillions of terabytes of information was stored in his system, and he would have to index all of it in such a way that it would not arouse suspiscion.

He knew he would succeed, he had to...

------------------
NEW NAME FOR THE DREADNOUGHT
The Hard-Boiled Egg
Why?
Because she cant be beaten!

The SNS Majestic Dagger came out of the Ishiman Jumpgate right at the fronteir. Four Ishiman Carriers were waiting for it, along with two HVDs and a large squad of HVCs. They sent a request for the Carrier to accompany them, and they Salrillian carrier was moored near a relatively remote Ishiman Bunker Station. A research vessel was moored there also, and for the next three hours, discreetly scanned the Ship while it waited. Finally, Spamo's shuttle arrived. Officially, he had with him a twelve member entourage, including the two Gaath, three Ishimans, three Humans and four members of the Intelligence Comittee in disguise. Two were shape shifters, members of a race that had hardly discovered interstellar travel, but had volunteered as spies. The rest were parts of the simply because of experience or particularly keen senses.

The trick was with the shape shifters. There were in fact three of them, but a third was separated between the two others, and would be dropped on Earth. He had been exhaustingy briefed by operatives from both Ishiman and Earth, told what to look for, who to contact, where to go, everything. He simply had to be inserted, and he would deliver several sets of instructions for supply drops and communications. He had with him cipher pads and a high gain burst subspace transmitter. Once he was in, the resistance would be able to connect with the outside.

Spamo felt the shuttle touch down in the bay of the Salrillian Carrier. He unbuckled his seatbelt, and tried to hide his revulsion as he stepped off the gangway, and came face to face with a ten foot long slug.

"Good Morning Admiral Spann." It hissed, bubbles of slime forming at the corners of its mouth.

------------------
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."

Spamo barely held back a grimace of homicidal intent as he saw the disgusting creature before him. He couldn't fathom how a disgusting and physically inept race like that could have come to such power. However, he bit his tounge against the insults that leapt to mind and nodded slightly to the...thing.

"Good morning...I'm afraid I don't know with whom I'm talking to."

The thing dipped its head and spoke again in that bubbling hiss.
"My name is not pronounceable by human toungesss. You may address me as Ambassador Ssi'lesso."

"Well, 'See-lesso' why don't you show me and my entourage to our quarters? We would be comfortable for the journey."

"Of coursse Admiral Sspann. We wouldn't dream of disscomforting our friendsss."

At that Spamo's face contorted into a sneer.
"Do not presume so much, slug. We'll go to our quarters now."

The Salrillian ambassador hissed something in its native language, and then slithered towards the doorway. "Your quartersss are thiss way."

------------------
Ne Cede Malis Sed Contra Audientor Ito

"He has been concentrating on the Humans for far too long He may be having doubts... The Council of Oracles believes there is a 86% chance of an incident if he is allowed to continue like this. I demand that you disconnect him."

For the first time in weeks, Pharris opened his eyes. He knew what he was hearing was not his normal language, but something was helping him. Somehow, he could hear them. He listened further. The familiar creature that had trained him was arguing with another in a cloak. Pharris detected unpleasantness in his reply to the cloaked being.

"The Oracular Network has never been able to accurately predict alien individuals without having a complete sim run on them. Pharris’ sim was incomplete. He is capable of a degree of interface with the Axis we have never been able to accomplish, and if we continue our analysis of his responses, we may be able to link to Salrillians in the future. I have spent years working on Audemed. I have even worked on his deprogramming. I am familiar with this entire system, and I am fully able to decide when there is a danger."

The cloaked figure’s voice tightened. He was wrestling with a decision.

"Your passion is dangerous. I would not allow my emotions to enter my tasks if I were in your position. If I was not one of your brood, I would report you to the Oracles. Deactivate the Human, and all will be well, it has been foreseen. Do not be worried, your work shall continue."

"I am sorry Auspex. I did not mean to make such an outburst. I will deactivate the Human, Thank you for your discretion. May your path be forseen"

"And to you, Ssissinevex. You were always wise and prudent."

The two interlocked tentacles briefly, and then the cloaked creature left. The other lay down upon a bench. Pharris felt a strong feeling of accomplishment, relief and understanding, but he did not know why

(This message has been edited by Captain Pharris (edited 01-15-2001).)

Wizr watched the two Ishiman Shuttles land in the Carrier’s Docking bay. After a few minutes, one of the shuttles departed, and was escorted to a jumpgate by three heavy cruisers. The shuttle pilot reported in, that he was carrying the new Salrillian Ambassador to Ishima. Wizr still couldn’t believe that they had the gall to reopen their embassy less than two months after declaring outright war on the Stellar Protectorate. Wizr would make them pay. He’d go meet with the Ambassador as soon as he landed, and he would get his Trey’eck back, or they would pay.

He shuddered at the thought of Myrk in a Salrillian simlab. If they had done anything to his Trey’eck while he was under diplomatic protection, he would take it to the Ishiman legislature and make sure everybody knew that the Salrillians were torturing Ishiman Diplomats in blatant violation of interstellar law. That would get him some popular support.

The Ship began to move, and he looked out the window to see the huge black carrier cruising slowly towards the Jumpgate. The Ishiman Ships were in formation around it, watching for the slightest excuse to tear it to pieces. As it entered the Jumpgate back towards Earth, he ordered a cruiser to be prepared to carry him back to Ishima. He had to beat the shuttle carrying the Salrillian Ambassador if his first meeting was to have the proper effect.

He strapped himself tightly into the Advanced Ishiman Heavy cruiser as it slowly maneuvered out of the docking bay. He was strapped into one of the spare jumper seats in the crew compartment, but down the corridor, he could see the pilot, copilot and Weapons/Systems Officer preparing the ship for launch. The pilot was Human, the copilot was Ishiman, and the WSO was from another protectorate race. The pilot looked back at Wizr over his shoulder and smiled.

"So, you want to beat that shuttle back to Ishima? Make sure those straps are tight, sir."

He spoke into the mouthpiece on his headphones.

"All hands, get packed to move."

Four voices reported back "clear" from the cockpit and over the intercom. Suddenly, a young Human landed harshly in the seat next to Wizr and hastily strapped in.

"Clear!" he yelled.

Wizr was slammed into his seat as the ship rocketed past the shuttle, towards the jumpgates. Next to him, the Human didn’t seem bothered by the shaking, noise or the Six G acceleration as he yelled out over the rumbling engines

"It’s an honor to meet you Trey’sh, May I shake your hand?"

Wizr could barely focus on the hand that stuck out at him over the tremendous rumbling of the cruiser’s powerful afterburners.

------------

"Six of them, sir, Aud transports, as well as a dozen or so fighters. There’s also a pair of Slug cruisers. They’re going straight for the Island."

Captain Sackler looked at his stopwatch

"Seven hours, fifty four minutes. Faster than the fastest Cantharaan response time. Not just that, they went straight for the base. No messing around with these guys."

The technician had connected to the security systems in the base, and was watching the Audemedon troopers storm the corridors.

"How many are in there so far, ensign?"

"I count a hundred and twenty, maybe more. These guys are the real deal "

"You’re telling me Wait till the Slugs go in and blow it. It’s a good thing we cleaned it out before we left."

Captain Sackler stepped back onto the captain’s station and spoke.

"Take us down below the thermocline and get us off the continental shelf. Take us to Alpha, as soon as possible."

"Aye aye, sir"

The dive officer relayed the orders and the ship moved. In total silence, the UNS Caveat slipped through the water, to the deep water offshore. The only noise was the resounding rumble of a massive explosion thirty miles behind them.

------------------
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."

(This message has been edited by Trey'sh Maletena Wizr (edited 01-15-2001).)

(Mag, the taskforce was rendezvousing at Anglagard)

The flash of light from the jumpgate certainly was a reassuring sight. After being holed up in an alien dominated Sol system for day, what wouldn't? The captain of the Terminal opened up a comm channel just as the ships arrived.

"We must do this fast; there is no other objective until we successfully complete the first. New Wales and New Scotland must be immediately brought under Obish control. We need the added ships, and the Audemedon forces are concentrated in Sol right now. If we capture the planets, we can reinforce our numbers, and divert a portion of the Audemedon force. And since these are not our planets, we can always run."

The objective accepted by the task force, the two transports each glided off towards the two Anglagard planets...

------------------
-Pallas Athene of Dysian Beta, Obish Consensus Representative
-Nieru Dast, {M}ilitia Aeriane
-Danae Vernius
"Cheaters don't really win, and winners don't really cheat. Unless you're talking politics." -Durandal

"Burn" Darkk whispered, the only sound on the bridge anyone but him could hear.

Outside, the Salrilian carrier did as told, detonating and flashing under the hail of fire, lashing futilly at the cargo cannisters Darkk had rigged with DEF ident codes. Inside the ship, the only sounds now came from the headphones Darkk was wearing, putting forth the musical tones of his sonic interface. He always used it against large targets, searching for the weakest area of the shields.

Darkk took the headphones off and opened his eyes, prepairing for the gunship that would arrive in 30 seconds. He hit superlight, and dropped out right behind the gunship, firing furiously as always. The carriers, off to the right, were tying up another 5 gunships with their new LRPK beams, stolen from the Sal superfreighters.

It wasn't long before the Sals were gone. "Well, let's board the survivors and inventory the pillage, everyone." Darkk was outwardly happy, but felt some sort of spring coiled inside, as though something extrodinary would be expected of him soon. He donned his EVAT armor and went in behind the boarding party for the first transport...

------------------
Never fly in front when attacking a Jjaro ship. -Me

The Trey'sh was tired. After the grueling cruiser race back to Ishima, he had barely two hours to prepare a large list of war grievances and points of felonious conduct on the part of the Prophets of Salril with the Trey'sh of Foreign Relations and the Trey'sh of Defence.

He dropped the list on the Slug's desk fifeteen minutes after his arrival in Ishima, and Immediately entered a long introduction and welcome in Salrillian, courteous and dignified as every Trey'sh should be-he even brought a gift, but still grinding the travel-weary Salrillian, who was obviously uncomfortable in the cool, dry, conditioned air in standard Ishiman life support systems.

Wizr had timed his meeting just for the proper effect. The Salrillian Ambassador was tired and worn out. It had been a seventy-two hour flight in a shuttle, that while comfortable, was not designed for his body. He had not yet adjusted his quarters to an atmosphere that was remotely comfortable, and his reports had not warned him that the Trey'sh of Reestablishment would be so forward, and unfortunately, the Salrillian was slightly less than polite in excuseing the Trey'sh.

As Wizr left, he felt quite good. He had taken a Salrillian by surprise and had out witted him. He sent the recording to be transcribed and translated by one of his top aides, with instructions to be as liberal as possible.

The transcript he put forth in the legislature that afternoon showed the Salrillian Ambassador callously disrespecting the repeated attempts at friendliness, a general curt mannor, and an outright refusal to respond to queries about Salrillian Intentions, and responses to the grievances put forth.

In the seven hour assault of questions, Wizr's responses even generated grumbles from some of the strongest pacifists in the Legislature.

Finally, after he had his evening meetings with the Trey'sh, the Trey'al and the combined Solar Liberation Fleet, he retired to his office, and checked his messages.

He paged through a few dozen useless or irrelivant notes until his eyes stopped on a Sender's name. "Trey'eck Myrk"

As he read the message, he hit the intercom switch for his secretary.

"I need a secure line to Armiral Spann, Now If possible..."

------------------
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."