He wasn't ready for me, I could tell. He was all in a fluster trying to reload his rifle when I charged for him. He dropped his gun and pulled a blade, drawing far back to slice at me. Big mistake. His arm was all drawn back when I came, charging like a prastor ox.

I could feel my elbow hook around both his necks as my feet left the ground, using my momentum to pivot around him, elbow firmly anchored to his necks. I snapped every one of his back plates in the turn, and the Gaitori Marine collapsed in a broken heap.

The automated robotic defenses took a split second to adjust to my sudden change in direction. By the time they had started tracking me again, I had landed a shot right in between the processors. The turret fizzled with a shower of sparks and died down.

faster! faster! I ran like a madman, bulletfire lining the walls trailing me. I jutted my shoulder and plowed straight into the heavy blast door. It gave way and I was on the runway. Gaitori security had not expected this show of strength on my part, and so had not bothered to fortify the landing pads I was making for.

A trail of marines followed me, firing in my direction blindingly through the thick white fog-- Gaitor is a very wet planet. Ahah! I saw a pair of cruisers in the repair hangar ahead of me!

- - - - -

The cockpit was smaller than anything ever. A Gaitori, standing at the average height of only three feet tall, would have found it roomy. The controls did not fit my hands, but I was forced to make do anyways. Scanning the buttons quickly, I found the main throttle and, my fist packed into a good a resemblance of a gaitori finger as I could manage, engaged it.

The ship lurched upwards and began to cruise from the hangar. "Shět! Autopilot!" I grunted with barred teeth, knowing it would take me up to orbit the long way out. I glanced at the rear controls.

The other cruiser and three fighters had joined the chase.

------------------
I know not who or what I am, nor where or why I am here, I remember nothing, and I know nothing; but while I don't know why, I do know is something is terribly wrong.

(just making a cameo)
Darkk , heres $100,000,000 credits , and 100 hvds
there's my war contribution
now back to the bar

------------------
Being 6 feet tall isnt bad , just not as fun as being 50 feet tall

So annoying, but so much learned. Time for some fun...

A large flotilla of Gaitori ships hung in the void around Falden 3, waiting to transfer the governor to his new post. The crews hated the boring and monotonus if safe duty of ferrying pompus beuarocrats from planet to planet, but they didn't have a choice in the matter.

The Governor's transport joined their formation after a perfectly uneventful planetary launch...

...and suddenly, their job became less boring and less safe.

3 Cantharan carriers and 6 Cantharan gunships exited the jumpgate so close to them they could count the seams on the hulls. Immediatly, the carriers began to dump their fighters and unload into the nearest ships. A Gaitori HVD moved to intercept but was rammed from two sides by gunships, which fired at it all the while, sending it drifting out of control and on fire.

15 Gaitori cruisers got into encirclment position around the carriers to make the most use of their high damage weapons, but the fighters used the same tactic and they weren't able to hit much before the clustercells and fighters munched them. The Gaitori gunships were hunted down and waxed by superlight strikes fron the Cantharan ones, and the battle was becoming a rout.

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

"915 group Delta, this is Gateship ISN 54218125. We're recieving transmissins from a Gaitori Fleet at Falden 3. They're under attack by the AZK Raider Group..."
"This is Commander Trinv. Say no more! Let us at those psycho b*s! We'll get 'em! "

Five 915 cruisers dropped out of a jumpstream as the AZK ships bore down on the remaining Gaitori. They quickly got a weakened carrier, and began to tangle with the fighters and gunships, breaking into a massive furball.

One cruiser got onto the tail of one of the gunships and had begun firing, when another dropped out of superlight literally decimeters from it and fired its pulse, knocking the cruiser around with the impact. The one in front turned and fired as well, and a second shot from the rear one blew it to flaming splinters.

The lead cruiser had dove straight into the fighters, and had blasted many, when one of them flew BETWEEN the Lepton and Onas shots, then popping up slamming into the front weapons emitter between shots when it got close enought, at a combined velocity high enough to shatter the weapon array and destroy the fighter. The cruiser spun under the force of the impact and blast as its crew stuggled to regain control. The other fighters immediatly broke away from it, as it was harmless, and attacked the other cruisers.

The next to rear (now the rear) cruiser was trying to engage the remaining carriers, but one of them superlighted right up to it, unloaded its clustercells and missles, superlighted around, and fired some more. Now 2 functional cruisers were left.

The 2 finished off a gunship, and turned to the current weakest carrier and blew it apart. The last carrier came in behind them at superlight with the remaining gunships and got their shields down to below 1/4 before the 915s managed to get behind them and take another gunship. The remaing 4 gunships hit their boosters, and came around again, but so did the 915s and a great superlight dogfight got underway.

Eventually, the ships dropped out. The 915s had drained their energy and had to use their Onas pulses, and the Cantharans had to use their antimatter pulses. The Carrier unloaded some missles into the furball, forcing the 915s to jinx, and a Cantharan Gunship pegged one. The last one was caught from behind by the last 5 Cantharan fighters, and was taken out.

The cippled cruiser finally managed to regain control (their primary computer had fried along with the weapons, but the backup had come online), just in time to see the last carrier latch onto the transport.

2 minutes, 2.34 seconds later it detached.
2.53 seconds after that, a jumpgate opened and the AZK ships flew through.
1 minute, 1.2 seconds after that, 2 915 battleships and 3 915 carriers arrived.

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

Commander Trinv slowly walked through the gutted transport. The crew, the governor, and his staff and family had been transfixed to the floor with spikes through their legs, and were so shocked by whatever had happened that they stared blankly ahead and occasionally screamed. The doctors said that they boarders had done something to their short-term memories, and that it would take a lot of work to fix them up. They also said that they'd mercifully never remeber whatever the AZK did to them.

Fortunatly, most of the crews of the destroyed vessles had gotten off in time, as 915 crew members always wear space suits. However, Trinv and the other survivors would never forget those who did not make it.

He looked at the slash marks everywhere, and wondered how they had had time to do so much wanton destruction in only about 2 minutes. He then stared once again at the image the pirates had called up on the screen.

The person was instantly recognisable to anybody who had read the great Cantharan pirate epic, the Frin'Mik, even if the gesture was from a different speices. The main character, pirate lord Thip'Wex - giving "the finger" with both hands.

Trinv threw a chair through the screen. They had left him drifting and laughed at him and his men. This was totally unforgivable.

William Darkk sipped his tea, looking out the window of the SS Barbarossa. "You've got a very nice ship here, Dave."
"Thanks boss. I found it after bailing out of an HVC at full superlight."
"Ouchie. Must have been hair-raising."
"Heh. I had about a 1 in 204 million shot of surviving it."
"I always thought you were a lucky b******."
"Heh."

The massive ship rumbled towards the next jumpgate to they Phylydion boarder. Sarah noted the "Gravitran Hyperlinks: Your jumpgate to the future." sign on the side of it, and snickered at the shear number of companies owned by certain legeslaters. The familiar green glow encompassed the ship again.

"Dave, there is someone who wishes to speak with out guest. May I patch him through?" said ACK, the ship's computer, through the speaker.
"What the heck."

"Greetings, William and Sarah Darkk." Neither Darkk nor his sister would ever forget the dual voice now coming over the radio.
"Hello, Audemed, Pharris," said William, "how are you today?"
"I, The Axis, am fine. I wish to discuss something with you ... in person."
"What?"
"Something not for the ears of anybody but you, William. Your sister does not need to be involved."
"Suits me."
"A unit will transfer to your foremost cargo hold upon entering the next system. It will meet you in the nearest space with breathable atmosphere."
"An aud drone? On my ship?" shouted Dave, "I don't think so!"
"Relax," said Darkk, "it's just one, and they aren't dangerous at all alone."

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

Right on schedule, a drone latched onto the foremost cargo pod after the SS Barbarossa cleared the jumpgate. William let it in through an airlock.
"William Darkk," the drone said, in Pharris's voice, "please step closer and allow me to interface."
Darkk had seen the interface procedure when he had looked at Audemed's source.
"Alright, nose probe me already".
A thin cord extended from the drone, and moved up Darkk's nose. Thousands of microfilaments would connect to his neurons, and he would view and listen to whatever Audemed wanted him to see and hear entirely in his head.

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

_William Darkk was standing on an infinite checkerboard plane. In front of him was a table with 2 chairs. In one sat a transparent Audemed and a transparent Pharris, occupying the same space. William sat down in the other chair.

"Hello. I wish to discuss your experiences on a certain desert planet." said the 2 together.
"I guess we can talk..." Darkk began to reply.
"No need. I simply wish your permission to access your memories dealing with that."
"Alright, but JUST that. I like my head private, thank you."
"Acceptable."

He released that part of his memory, and watched a total sensory replay of the experience. He felt an odd sort of relatedness, between that and this. Of course, mind probes had been done of his memories both times. That was probably it.
He felt an odd thrill at the part where he was lifted off the floor, and a bigger thrill when the projection of the woman had told him that her self image had been based off him and his sister.
He then returned to the table on the plane.

"Most interesting. Would you mind if I scanned ALL your memory?"
"As a matter of fact I would. Lots of private stuff up there."
"I could make it worth your while..."
"It would have to be pretty worthwhile."
"I could show you hacking techniques you never even dreamed of. You'd be astonished."
"Throw in some combat AI programming techniques, a few miscelanious ones, and I guess I'll make a deal."
"Alright. Ordinarily I would never let anybody learn this, but this is important to me."

He felt the whurl of his memories from his birth to his adolescance to his early adulthood to his joining the Apollo to the Ares Wars to his breakaway to the second invasion of Earth to the third battle of Sol and finally he returned to the plain.
Then he felt his mind expand as suddenly new avenues of all sorts of computer techniques leaped into focus. Audemed was being generous.
_

"Thank you." the drone said, and scuttled out the airlock, where it was picked up by an ATR.

William Darkk rushed off to try out some of the stuff he had learned.

------------------
Formerly-Rampant Human-Coded AI

_My cruiser blasted out of orbit, pursued hotly by a pair of fighters and a cruiser. "gul'Smai, this is you last chance to halt your flight and prepare to be boarded, else our orders are to terminate you."

I clenched my teeth as a kinetic beam darted accross the shields before sizzling into space. A warning shot. I swerved just as another kinetic beam went sizzling past, missing by mere quads.

"gul'Smai, for faliure to return to the homeworld we are hereby ordered by the hive to terminate your existance."

Throwing out another barrel roll I managed to dodge the hail of uranium bullets from the pursuing cruiser. I swerved left, I swerved right, yet I was unable to shake them. I had left orbit entirely now, pursued now by a full string of fighters trailed by the slower cruiser.

Perhaps out of desperation, I dived for the sun. Faster and faster I pushed the engines, frantically trying to keep ahead of the pursuing Gaitori out to end my existance. I squinted against the intense light, when a huge shadow fell accross my face. The sun had disappeared- no- it was being eclipsed by a massive vessel I had never seen before!

I wasn't sure what they were at the time, but they damn well saved my life. I saw a massive, podular ship, painted entirely black. Windows lined the sides, and on the above and underneath two massive domes sat. They began to glow, channeling an intense yellow light. I wasso ignorant, so naďve at the time, I did not know the danger of my actions.

I was blinded as a huge electrical beam shot out from the ship, missing me but plowing straight into the fighters behind me. The radio spat at me. "The Salril have arrived. A carrier has been sighted near the Alpha jumpgate. All units converge!"

Trapped!

With the Salril pressing prescence at solar side, the Gaitori attacking planetside, I was cought in the middle of a huge planetary invasion! No way out.... but maybe.... I remembered them mentioning a jumpgate being nearby. It was a crazy stunt,but it was my only chance of escaping alive.

Already more ships of the Salril had arrived. "We have four knots of fighters and two gunships mark seven!"

"Move to intercep-"

Another massive electrical beam spat out, hitting a cruiser squarely on the tanks, sending it spinning.

I must get close. Really close. My ship darted towards the evil black ships of the Salril. I saw a pair of domes powering up in the corner of my eye, sending my cruiser into a barrel roll just as another electric beam shot past me. That was close. I screamed for the Salril fleet in pure zeal. Four grey pods, undoubtedly launched from the carrier, flew head-on at me, firing in rapid succession and rolling off.

Damnit! The perfect shot! If only I could use these weapons! Four more pods, now clearly fighters, fell onto my tail, pumping my rear shields with their orange lasers. I dodg- what the hell was that?! A large orange sphere, sparkling, was headed straight for me from the carrier's direction. Oh shět it's a bomb!

I dropped formation, dodging the homing pulse as it slammed into my pursuers. I was fast approaching the Salril Carrier._

"Look, there's a brave one." The Salrilian said to his other, as he watched my ship spin out of the path of another yellow bolt. "Do you think he would pose any morsel of a threat?"

"Certainly not, brother. We are aboard the finest vessel in the navy. Can a mere Gaitor cruiser but dent us?"

"I hope not."

_I was prepared to see large ships when I left orbit of the capital world of one of the most influential governments of the galaxy, but even so when I laid eyes on the Salril Carrier up close, I couldn't help but whisper. "My god...."

Point defenses lined along the perimeter shot in my direction, but my close proximity (I could have reached out and touched the damn turrets) was more than enough to scramble their tracking systems. Another blast shot in my direction. Time for another roll. Suddenly my hands slipped from the piloting controls. My ship damn near crashed into the side of the carrier, but the moment I grazed the controls, a hail of bullets shot out.

I was nearly at the rear of the carrier, and had found no jumpgate. I began to panic. Was there a way out of this nightmare at all?!

Perhaps.... yes, Jumpgates operated on a multispacial frequency meaning any pulse of energy large enough would reveal it's hidden location. An idea popped into my head as I saw the huge engines at the rear of the carrier I was about to pass. I aimed...

I fired. The huge tanks burst into flame, jets of plasma blowing into deep space. Weaving between the pillars of fire, I could make out a faint and fading orange ring in the distance. I made a beeline for it.

Freeeeeeedom!_

The Salrilians hung in the silent herd room, reading the victory reports. "We have succesfully invaded the Gaitor Homeworld. Military herds are scouring the planet and the remaining Gaitor ships have fled into deep space. A declaration of Greivance shall be filed by the Ishiman Senate within forty-eight hours."

"Excellent. Have we recovered the Test Subject yet?"

The other Salrilian cleared his gills hesitantley. "Well... one Gaitor Cruiser managed to bypass the blockade and escape the system. Shall we pursue?"

"No." The Salrilian Admiral said with a glint in his eyes. "Have the rest of the fleet meet us at the simlab cluster."

------------------
I know not who or what I am, nor where or why I am here, I remember nothing, and I know nothing; but while I don't know why, I do know is something is terribly wrong.

So annoying. Time for a change of hands...

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

Shipyard Area 134.
Rows of Salrilian ships sat unpowered, as they waited the arrival of the crew transports from Thasero.

Above them were 2 HVDs, 4 carriers, and a myriad of cruisers watching over their inactive brothers. They would get about 1.34 seconds of warning.

Collision alarms went off as something decelerated from superlight right into their formation. A pale white beam lashed out in every direct, and the watchers were totally gone.

Had there been any crew on the inactive ships, they would have heard boarding alarms ring.

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

When the crew transports arrived several hours later, they found nothing but a bouy from on o carrier broadcasting "Now you see them, now you don't .|_ _|."

"This is the captain speaking. All hands, standby to kick ass." The Ishiman calmly returned his mic to its cradle on his chair as the ISN 91588763 was spat out of its Jumpstream. He already could see the flashes from the hyperlight engines on the cloaked HVCs that were assigned to his escort.

The ship didn't run, it flowed. The crew was so used to each other and to their equipment that it acted almost as an extension of their bodies. The crew thought and the ship acted. Already, a large flight of missiles was speeding towards the small, backwater starbase.

The starbound traffic was immediately ordered to heave to and await instructions. Those ships that disobeyed and tried to make a run for it were struck down as if from nowhere by the Cruisers that dropped out of cloak for only long enough to disable their marks before slipping back into their stealth fields.The pirates on the station were by no means easily intimidated, but the speed and sudden fury of the strike on the station had reaped confusion.

The ships that launched were immediately cut down while the HVC's quickly vented a large portion of the station to space. What didn't colapse from the explosive decompression was then boarded by EVATs. Those still alive were dragged back to the Assault transport, then locked in the brig of the Carrier while the Cruisers thoroughly slagged what was left of the station, useing their Onas pulses to knock it into a terminally decaying orbit.The entire convoy then entered a stream to the next Pirate stronghold in the area.

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

Wizr couldn't help feeling an intense sense of satisfaction. The crusade had been his idea, and it was working extremely well. The 915 task force was in the process of gutting every dive that was used extensively by pirates. Stations, bases on planets, any system that had terminated a jumpstream recently was thoroughly scanned by Radio Intercept and Designate vessels. They were tracking a long trail of jumpstreams from the last attack. Unfortunately, it takes longer to trace a jumpstream than to make one, and the longer they took, the colder the trail became. It was a race against time for the Ishiman RIAD ships, a race that they were losing.

But even that was not concerning Wizr at the moment. He was pageing the news, an activity that took up a significant portion of his day. He scoured even the most trivial news articles looking for connections. Connections between apparantly unrelated events always meant an opportunity to be exploited. Today he had found many, includeing a report of the phrase "Capitalism Suxors!!!" displayed on all the displays in the Ishiman Stock Exchange. Wizr had made notes for his various industry heads before reading about the blocade of Gaitor by the Prophets of Salril, and the official Ishiman objection. Angering as it was, it was outside of his immidiate control, so he went on to the tasking order for active ISN ships. Usually a very short list, the tasking order accounted for every active ship's orders at that moment. There were many 915 ships out and about, so he scanned their tasking by system. His finger stopped on NCG-56781. It couldn't be. He acessed his notes, then looked back at the tasking order, then at his watch.

He got up and ran out the door, dialing his pilots as he ran.

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

It was certainly the strangest base Commander Trinv had ever seen. Suspended from a tremendous balloon, deep in the atmosphere of a tremendous gas giant. The funniest thing about it was the writing that scrawled across the top of the gas envelope: "Salrillian: The other dark meat." Not that he had expected any less from the secret hideout of the infamous Darklight Entrepeneurial Federation. Supposedly they had gone legit, but since they were well into international space, Trinv could do what he wanted, and he wanted to find the AZK raiders.

Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, another HVC dove in from the upper atmosphere, its encrypted transponder pinging "diplomatic service." Trinv couldn't help but wonder who it was as it flew straight to the landing pad, touched down and opened its port.

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

Wizr ignored the pilots and station personell who were trying to look fearsome brandishing their rifles. He strode past them and around the corner to where he recognized Bizz standing.

"Hello, Bizz, I need to speak to William Darkk. Now, if possible."

Seeing that it was not an EVA trooper, she smiled and replied"He's not here, and I have no Idea where he went, and we can't reach him. All I know is he took one of my ships without signing the waiver."

"That's a lie. If you couldn't tell me his pulse at this moment, I'd be surprised. I need a secure line. Now."

"Very well, Trey'sh" She replied.

She led him to a communications room and placed him in front of a screen in a small cabin.
"You have ten minutes." She said, as William Darkk's face appeared on the screen,

"Darkk here, what's --You!"

"Nice to see you too, Admiral Darkk, I have more than a few questions for you, including one about the security on the Ishiman Stock Exchange."

Darkk smiled broadly."So what do you want to know?" he said through a chuckle.

"Well, first of all, I want to know that you'll never try a stunt like that in my stock market ever again. I won't even ask about how you did it, I just want to know that you'll never do it again. Second of all, I want to know what you know about the AZK Raiders. Everything. This isn't the time to lie to me, Will. Who are they, where did they come from, and who taught them to fly."

"I can honestly say that I don't know. Whoever they are, they're quite skilled, and they're fighting style is very similar to tactics that I developed while fighting from the Ares."

"My analysts noticed as much. That's why there are 915 cruisers casing your base. I think too highly of you to accuse you of masterminding this, but could their leader have worked with you in the past? I mean your techniques are not well known or documented. How else could they have learned them?"

"I don't know. In fact, I was wondering the same thing. They are almost too good to be coming out of nowhere, and the fact that they're flying this top-notch Cantharaan equipment is also very interesting."

"Actually, I can answer that. Our surveillance shows that several dozen Cantharaan vessels were removed from a mothballing facility. Unfortunately, we couldn't get a good look at them. They had laid down a very powerful active jamming field."

"Interesting. And do these missing ships match the ones that have been giving us so much trouble?"

"They do, in fact every one of those ships has been accounted for. Though most of them have been destroyed, and the rest are in pretty sorry shape, at least according to gun camera footage. We're going to get a better analysis when the wrecks are brought to the lab."

"So I guess the question is not where will they strike next, but what will they strike with."

"Exactly, but we hope to catch them in the act this time. The Cantharaans have tripled security, and we have tripled surveillance flights through Cantharaan, Gaitori and much of Salrillian space. If they try anything big, I think we should see them."

"Well, if you do find out anything more, I'd like to know, and I'll certainly be on the lookout. If you need me, you know where to call."

"Nice speaking to you Darkk, goodbye."

The screen turned off and the door opened. Bizz was waiting.

"If your finished, sir, allow me to escort you back to your ship."

"Very well, lead the way."

Bizz lead him directly out to the landing pad, and said a terse goodbye, locking the blast door behind her.

As Wizr climbed aboard his HVC and sat down, one of the pilots handed him two emergency dispatches from Ishima. An emergency meeting of the Trey had been called in the legislature. All contact with Gaitor had been lost, and the Salrillian fleet was still in system. The second was dispatched ten minuted after the first: All life on Gaitor had been destroyed.

The HVC launched immediately, leaving the squadron of 915 ships behind to watch the base.

(This message has been edited by Trey'sh Maletena Wizr (edited 04-16-2001).)

_The Bar on Bazidan was in an uproar when I entered. Every one of the low-crouched insectoids was astonished at the galactic news projecting on the holoscreen. I was only able to decipher some of the clicking from the Bazidan News Network.

Salril had invaded the homeworld! Their fleet of ships had crushed the Gaitori defenses, their troops tore apart the hive cities of the planet, searching for something.

But what? I concentrated. What could they want so badly.... Then my eyes grew wide. It all made sense. The last of my species! They were searching for me! But why...? I remembered the unusual attention constantly payed to me during my training on the homeworld. I remembered my first ears of remembered life aboard that Salrilian simlab. It would be like the Salril to want an antique like me, the last of my kind, to study me.

But then I remembered the careless engineer. But I wasn't the last of my kind. That meant there were more of my race spread amongst the stars. But why scour a planet for one...one... what _were my people called... when you could easily find one elsewhere. Why me _??

It all didn't make sense. Was there something about me that distinguished me from the others of my kind? What was so special about me that the Salril would start a war with the Gaitor just to find me? I looked back at the holonews for answers....

Yes indeed they were looking for something. And the mindless killing would not stop untill they had found it. I saw a tape of one Gaitor, obviously of the Br'el family, executed at point-blank range. I had to stop the killing._

- - - - -

Simlab Cluster, Irthus system.

The entrance hole clicked and the Salrilian Admiral turned expectantly. "Enter."

Her face showed no surprise when he saw me, bound and bleeding, shoved into the cave-like room. I collapsed onto the floor, spitting blood out of my mouth and staining my teeth. A pair of tall warrior-breed Salrilians entered in suit, one of them grasping a bloody and still-warm torture stick. "We have captured the Test Subject, herdmaster. He intercepted and surrendered to one of our patrols this morning. He is before you."

The Admiral stared disapprovingly at me; I looked up miserably to meet her superior gaze. "Excellent work, Corporal. Leave us." The door flushed open and the two guards left.

We were alone. "Be gratefull, 'herdmaster', that I turned myself in when I did. You would hate to have continued to war against the Gaitor, would you not?" I demanded.

"Silence, human." The chamber echoed with her stern words. "We have recalled from Gaitor now we have our prize, yet your 'brothers', as they insisted you call them, are pushing for vengeance. They are so blinded by their fury that unless we halt them, they will drag on the war at the cost of untold lives."

"How can you tell they would sink that low, Salril-"

"Do not talk petty with me. I know much more about you, than you know yourself. I am the gatekeeper, and you are traveller. You will only know information if I allow you to. I am your master.

"Come, stand here and watch." A holoscreen appeared in midair, a slowley rotating planet in the center. I reckognized the planet immdiately.

"the homeworld..." I whispered to myself.

"You would know this world as Gaitor. To prove our superiority over your race and all others we shall end the conflict here. What you are watching is, in all tenses, live. There is a 3.28 millisecond delay between what you see here and what is actually taking place. This will be a lesson to all who dare defy the prophets."

I watched in anticipation. I did not need to wait long. I thought I was prepared to see the Salrilian atrocity in action, but what I witnessed was more horrible than anything I could ever imagine.

On the surface of the planet, there was a light flash. It seemed it was over when I noticed the expanding circle where clouds were absent. A shockwave. The wave passed, faster and faster, leaving a trail of destruction. The planet seemed to boil under the mysterious forces upon it. The surface, now visible, began to crack, transforming from the lush blue of plantlife to a burnt ash grey. I could see massive firestorms forming accross the continents, sterilizing the land with their devil's tongues. The oceans boiled and shrank and the atmosphere began the blow off as the entire planet was transformed into an inferno. Whole cities, continents, were being wiped off the face of the planet as the great landmasses soon fell into a see of lava, deep unto the magma.

Helplessness engulfed me in the way the flame engulfed the planet. It was more than I could bear. More than an hour had passed. None of us said anything. None of us did as I watched the homeworld of Gaitor boil away into space. The flames died down, their feul spent, the last traces of atmosphere evaporated into space, joining the expanding cloud of debris.

Gaitor was left nothing more than a smouldering, lonely, lifeless and barely reckognizable rock drifting somewhere in in the G-1 system. I wept in the darkness.

The Salrilian Admiral cackled.

------------------
I know not who or what I am, nor where or why I am here, I remember nothing, and I know nothing; but while I don't know why, I do know is something is terribly wrong.

(This message has been edited by Test Subject 22 (edited 04-14-2001).)

Spamo stepped off the Outrun into Darkk's private base. It had been a long time since he could walk about so casually. Hiding out was tough work on the nerves and on the body. He looked down at himself; he had lost weight and had taken on a wiry look. He was physically stronger though, more toned. Must've come from the long hours of manual labor keeping the little junker of a ship going from system to system. Shaking his head with a wry grin on his face, Spamo walked towards the secure comm center of the station. He had a secure line to Wizr waiting, and he needed to contact him if his plans were going to work out right. A few minutes later, he arrived at the private room Darkk had reserved for him. Spamo walked in and took a seat in front of the monitor.

Accessing tight beam encryption subsystems.
Encoding transmission
Host contacted...connect 483sb33z@ssh.leo2.isn

Wizr's face appeared on the screen, grinning broadly.

"It's like looking at a ghost..."
Wizr's mouth worked silently, at a loss for words at seeing his dead friend.

"I'm quite alive I assure you. I'll fill you in with the whole story over a cup of tea someday. But right now, I've got a favor to ask you."

Wizr nodded. "You were hiding then. Alright, what do you need Jack?"

"I need to get to the Phylydian leadership. The Phylydians are somewhat sympathetic towards the UNS, and quite powerful. If I can get to them I might be able to convince them to help."

"That's a very risky plan Jack. There's no telling what the Phylydians will do when they find you at their doorstep. There are any number of things that they might do to you. Keep in mind that you are supposed to be dead."

Spamo looked sternly at the screen. "I realize the risk, but there isn't any other option anymore. Diplomacy won't make the Salrillians let go. They've got a death-grip on the UNS, and we'll end up having to cut off their head to make it let go."

"More fighting, more loss of lives." replied Wizr gravely.

Spamo just frowned.

"There is a great deal of trade going back and forth between the Phylydians and the rest of us. Borrow a ship from Darkk, and I can slip you into a trading convoy. You should be able to reach Phylydia in a week or two."

"Thank you Wizr. Trust me, I want the fighting to stop as much as you do. But it won't just yet."

Wizr laid out some plans and said farewell and closed the comm. Spamo sat back, going back over the plans they had made. In two weeks, the Phylydians should be gunning for humanity.

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

Spamo returned to his quarters a while later, decidely worn out. Liz was waiting for him.

"Jack, you look wasted. Did things go well?"

Spamo slumped down into a chair. "Yes, I'm just worn. We leave tomorrow for Phylydian space. I need to borrow a ship from Darkk, and prepare identities to cover us..." he trailed off as his tired body cried out for rest.

"You're exhausted. You need to relax! Come on, let's go have some dinner at the cantina. We can take care of things tomorrow."

Spamo started to object, but Liz pulled him up and led him out of the quarters and down the hall.

(OOC: Fixed the continuity, so it now is reasonable to think that I'm talking to Wizr after Darkk did.)

------------------
If things around here aren't working right, it's because I'm laughing so hard.
-Durandal

(This message has been edited by El Spamo (edited 04-15-2001).)

Darkk looked out at the 915 flotilla. They actually thought he'd attack a peaceful Ishiman trading group for no reason. The funnyest part of all was that they thought he'd use CANTHARAN ships - he had no respect for those, he'd only fly one if he was trying as hard as he could to make things hard on himself. Well, they didn't actually suspect him, or have evidence, but they did feel the need to rattle some sabers at him.

"Hey, Trinv!"
"What is it you slimebag?"
"Heh, slimebag, is it? Just so you know, I can see you fine."
"What's it to me?"
"So, what are you doing here? Looking for AZK?"
"Yeah. Not too many people can use superlight like that."
"I'd never be caught dead flying a Cantharan ship, they're way too sucky. Heck, UNS ships are better."
"Heh, you got that right."
"Besides, I've been with some independant parties who can verify I've been on the SS Barbarossa during almost all the incidents. It's a civilian freighter."
"We don't like you, you know. If we wanted to, we could tear you up inside of 5 minutes."
"Heh. I wouldn't put money on it."
"Maybe someday we'll get a chance to make you put your money where your mouth is. Wizr made us back off for now, so feel lucky, punk."
"Feel free to when you get real evidence."
"You bet I will."
"Heh. Nice talking with you. Care for some tea?"
"Har har. We'll be going. If I EVER catch you doing anything suspicious, I'm taking you out."
"The feeling is mutual."

------------------
Formerly-Rampant Human-Coded AI

(This message has been edited by Fleet Admiral Darkk (edited 04-15-2001).)

"You see," The Salrilian Admiral slid up and down in front of me, her back aggressively arched. "there is a certain order in the universe, an inchangable constant to everything that we call uthara . It has been a constant since the beginning of the universe (or the 'creation', as your pathetically boring religeon would label it), and it will be a constant up to the end. Uthara is everywhere, uthara is unchangable. The many species and civilizations of this galaxy all have different names, different words for it, but they are all referring to the same constant. You would know it as death _.

"We cannot halt it or even delay it, we can merely contain it. For there to be winners, there must also be losers, a fact we were forced to learn so harshly during the reign of your people under the UEC. They prospered, we fell. They lived utopian lives, we lived beaten ones. They lived, we suffered _uthara . The UEC brough-"

I interrupted. "Who are the UEC? Are there really more of my people?" Her response was a petulant glare, as if she were staring at a slime-mold or a stillborn Gaitori larva.

_"How much do you know already?"

"I... I don't know really... I know I am one of the last of my race, that there are more of us scattered throughout the cosmos, that at one point we did something horrible and were crushed by the Obain. I know that somehow, I am unique from the rest of my kind, that I am different and so rare that Salril would destroy Gaitor to recover m-"

"Enough! There is nothing special about you! You are a common human, like all the rest!"_ she forced it upon me almost as if she didn't believe it. _"The Gaitori kidnapped you, telling you what it took to use you as a weapon. Didn't they?"

"I... I guess.... I dunno."

"Poor little human. I will explain to you what you need to hear.

"Yes, your people were once a thriving primitive civilization. You were content with your lifestyles, untill the Cantharans came. They made several attempts to invade, and even occupied your homeworld Earth for some time.

"Your people were desperate, they were willing to try anything to save them from the destruction. This allowed dangerous men to come into power. One such man, Jerry Levt, appeared two weeks after the invasion of Earth with a massive fleet. He destroyed the alien invaders who threatened your kind, and united all of your people under one common rule, known as the UEC. For a while, things were good, then in a fit of genocidal vengeance he lashed out at all nonhumans. Several races were completely eradicated before we were forced to halt his rampage forcefully.

"The resulting war left your people decimated. Your civilization in decline, your worlds and your people firmly under our stranglehold to make sure NOTHING like that would ever happen again. The prophets have witnessed it before and have foreseen that should the son of man walk free and be allowed to rise, a new evil will reign unstoppable, and even more unimaginably bloodthirsty.

"There are only about a hundred million of you left now, scattered so far across the cosmos that in three generations, your people will be extinct."_

I was devastated by the news. I couldn't accept it. "No.... I don't believe you... that's impossible.... no! Stay way from me! Let me out of here! LET ME OUuuuu....." A sedative pack was placed on my throat and hissed slightly as the relaxant was transferred into my bloodstream. I fell to the wet soft floor with a thud, out cold.

------------------
I know not who or what I am, nor where or why I am here, I remember nothing, and I know nothing; but while I don't know why, I do know is something is terribly wrong.

He rattled off a letter to the head of the Lyconian Trade Coalition, and another to Admiral Spann. If he showed his letter to the leader of the Phylidion convoy, no questions would be asked. That done, he went back to reviewing the intelligence reports.
Observer drones in the Gaitor system had been discovered, and so had self destructed before the Salrillians could determine their origin, but the resulting information blackout had meant that the Ishiman Stellar Protectorate had no idea what the Salrillians had done to Gaitor for nearly three hours. For a high-speed, information driven government like the Legislature, that blackout had been aggravating, and ultimately catastrophic.

Wizr took his seat in the legislature, along with all of the Trey'sh. No Trey'eck or lower Trey could hold a seat at these emergency sessions. Each committee was represented by its highest officer, as a consensus had to be attained. The Trey'sh of the Intelligence Committee gave his brief of the situation on Gaitor, followed by a briefing on the steps that had already been taken by the Foreign Relations Committee.

Then, the Defense Committee gave a brief summary of the capabilities of the ISN in the current situation, followed by the Intelligence Committee going through, in explicit detail the situation in Salril at the moment. This speech was what had interested Wizr the most.

"The Prophets of Salril are in a very tight spot politically, economically and militarily at this time. They had made a significant investment into the Cantharaan war machine long before we sponsored the Ares crew in their fight to liberate Sol. The great success of that operation left the Cantharaans and their powerful navy trapped, and events conspired to prevented the Salrillians from donating aid to the Cantharaans.

The Salrillians funded the Audemedon invasion force that took Earth, and invested significant manpower in their effort to subdue the Humans, who mounted a large resistance movement, with the help of a significant amount of aid from the Reestablishment Committee, which funded several joint technological ventures that allowed the UNS resistance forces to do a significant amount of damage to the Salrillian war machine. The series of lightning raids that the UNS resistance launched did significant damage, and combined with the rise of the UEC and their fleets, left the Salrillian Navy's infastructure in very poor shape.

At this point, approximately 18 months ago, the Audemedon Axis seemed to desert the Prophets. The Audemedon fleet simply abandoned the defence of Salril, leaveing the UEC fleets to rush through and make use of a direct jumpgate to Sol.

Upon secureing Earth, the UEC entered a campaign of ruthless slaughter against Salrillians and Cantharaans, which soon grew into a genocide against all other races. Sources show that this was driven by the megalomeniacal Emperor Gerald Levt, who had apparantly been driven to madness by his long and painful escape from a mission in the Audemedon Axis during which he lost his wife.

At the same time that the UEC's fleets were roaming the galaxy, the Salrillians brought together the largest combined fleet in history, including Gaitori, Cantharaan Obish and Salrillian ships under the name of the Woven, and planned a full scale assault on Earth, which they executed very well, catching Sol with its fleets far away in the field.

Unfortunately, the Woven made a large miscalculation, and despite their threats to level all life on Earth, the UEC fleets returned and proceeded to destroy a tremendous portion of their Armada.

The rebelling Audemedon Axis took advantage of the Salrillians just as they were taking advantage of the UEC, and attacked and destroyed all life on the surface of Salril useing unknown weapons while the Salrillian fleets were fighting at Sol.

The battle of Sol went very badly for the Woven fleet, and they were only saved from a rout by the sudden and mysterious appearance of Phylidion forces. The motives of the Phylidions still remains unknown.

Since then, the Salrillians have been continually hassled by the rebel Audemedon, and their vast reserves of materials is beginning to run dry. In the last few months, imports to Salrillian space have quadroupled, and exports have stopped almost entirely. Our spies indicate that the Salrillians are in dire straits. Their economy has been strained by these last few years of war, and the loss of their navy and their homeworld has left them in a shambles. They have been deficit spending for many months now. The government is in considerable debt, and much of the populous is in poverty. A less totalitarian government would have let the nation collapse into economic depression long ago, but the question still remains, how long can they last.

The Prophets have yet to make an official statement about what has happened at Gaitor, which is somewhat disturbing, but I think it is clear that the Salrillians are in a desparate situation, and, weakened though they may be, they are still a force to be reconed with, and we all know that desparation makes makes people very unstable."

The intelligence analyst took questions, and then the Legislature went to work. As always, the option of military intervention was brought up and shot down, and finally it was agreed that the Stellar Protectorate would institute trade sanctions on the Prophets. For the moment, Ishima would not buy or sell anything to or from Salril, and if Foreign Relations had its way, Elejee would initiate a similar embargo. If anything would make the Salrillians sweat, it would be when they realised that they could not support their prized illusion of control any longer.

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

I awoke to find myself strapped securely to a large metal profile table, built to support my design. I looked about me only to find my eyes had been bolted shut. I was helpless and blind, alone with the hum of machinery. What was I doing here?

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

They slid in a circle around the controls. _"Batteries have been charged to fifty eightyiths, Admiral. Estimated time untill total memory wipe is seven point two daps."

"How much will the probe do to him?"_ she queried.

"We estimate near total selective memory loss. He'll forget all the Gaitori revealed to him."

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

It was cold. The machinery behind me grew louder, humming to where I could feel my skull vibrate. The table I was strapped onto was moving deeper into the device.

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

"'Near-total' selective memory loss is not good enough, Corporal." She was very angry. _"That Test Subject knows too much. If he were to gather the truth..."

"'Near-total' is the maximum safe level of memory wipe we can risk. If we were to go higher and push for complete memory wipe, the effects could be disasterous!"

"How so?"

"We... we've never tested that amount of power on a unit of that build. If we were to trigger the weapon inside of him-"

"It would be no better than if he were to remember , except we would die much quicker. Maximum power, Corporal."

"yes..."_

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

The machinery grew louder almost immediately. My temples began throbbing I clenched my fists in pain.
thudding. Thudding. THUDDING!
Bolts of electricity stabbed my body all over. My body clenched, straining against the agony that was digging deep into my cranium. I pulled hard on the straps. Harder and harder. My brow was splitting from the facial contortion brought on by my exertion of all my energy into that strap! I grunted through clenched teeth as I pulled several tons of force on the strap, out of the extra power that had entered my body.

There was a screech of twisted metal, then the bar of trianium supporting the strap snapped completely! I used my freed hand in combination with the other to free my second hand. I sat up and began untying my feet when a pair of guards entered the room, carrying their blades.

I perked up, wielding my right hand as a weapon, as still attatched to it was the strap and a pair of very dense and very heavy bars. I drove into the first one with a newborn ferocity, plowing deep into his softside. I drew out, my fist drenched in syrupy cyan-colored blood. He collapsed in a flurry of cyan.

The second one lunged at me, his blade held like the warhead at the tip of a missile. I deflected the military blade with the much stronger industrial bar. I continued untying my right foot as I sent him spinning. He recovered and made a swift dive at me, broken blade in stance. The heel of my boot slammed into his side like a sledgehammer, breaking through the soft skin and blowing cyan-goop everywhere.

I hurriedly finished untying my left foot and jumped out of the table chair, landing on the soft, now cyan-colored floor six feet below.

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

The console room was amiss, a flurry of panicked activity from it's Salrilian operatives.

"What in Zom's name happened?!" demanded the Admiral

_"The memory-wipe overdrive has caused him to malfunction! He's gone rampant for the next forty-eight hours!"

"Where is he?!"

"Sector 47-G! He's headed for us!"_

She glanced out the doorway into the hall, loudly echoing the sounds of bloody and brutal hand-to-hand combat as herds of security troops charged me. There was an explosion from a laser bolt and a bloody Salrilian head rolled out into her view.

I lept down the twent-foot shaft, slamming into the floor into her plain view without the slightest hiccup in my procedure. I looked up, stolen rifle in my hand, masochistic grin on my face. That was the only time I had ever seen a trace of fear in her.

I started running for her as she stood frozen in the doorway with fear. Her face returned to it's usual smug frown as she remembered another trick up her sleeve. "Close the compression doors!" she bellowed over the din.

The huge metal doors, made for holding in an entire ship's atmosphere in the event of decompression, slowly sank from the ceiling, seperating us. Thet did not stop my intense burning desire to kill her. I kept running, the door closing the very instant I stopped in front of them. We were but several inches away, yet I could not harm her. Or could I?

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

Inside, the mood in the control room was somewhat calmer. She turned only to jump.

CLANG

The turned back at the door, to see a huge dent had appeared in it's center.

CLANG

The door gained another dent.

CLANG CLANG CLANG

The door was bulging out at them. "He'll break through! We're all going to doe!" The Salrilians fled to the corner of the room, trapped in a slithering panic. The Admiral stood her ground against the failing door, and the super-strong man beating it down.

"Deploy the sentinals." She ordered coldly.

----------

I drew back, my fists woven into one in between the fingers to strike another forty-ton blow against the hull-quality door. My hands, sensing an eminant contact with the blast door, intinctivley hardened.

I charged at the door when I heard a robotic voice behind me. "Leave no survivors." it droned in a pathetically monotonous, yet strangely terrifying tone. I turned just in time to dodge a large robotic claw. I rolled to my left as four more struck the floor where I had just been. I looked up to see a quartet of spider-like droids. Battledroids. Sentinals.

They lashed out with stunning tamwork, keeping a random and unpredictable set of attacks. I strained to deflect their blows, but twenty huge atom-sharp claws at a time was a feat to block. Time for me to be unpredictable. I jumped up high, summersaulting to avoid to adapted strikes. I came out of roll and firmly pointed my heels. I landed, slammed more like it, onto the back of one of the droids, snapping all of it's joints off and crushing it's processor box.

Something deep inside me stirred. A memory? A word came to me... 'Aww', no, 'ahh', no wait, 'Audemedons'! That's what they were called.

I bound my fists again and slammed one of my blast-door-denting swings at another 'Audemedon', driving it's proccessor box deep into it's robotic body. It fizzled and spat smoke. I grinned. These Audemedons were surely the easiest opponents I had ever faced! So I thought.

I bound my fists together for another earth-crushing swings. I put my weght into it, only to see a pair of those atom-splitting claws come for me. I quickly pulled out of the dive, but not quick enough, my elbow was sliced open like a potato. Damn! What had I done wrong? It wasn't what I had done wrong, it was what the audemedon had done right! Having seen the fall of it's comrade, it had developed a countermeasure against my move!

Shďt! They had adapted to my moves! There was only oe thing I could do now.
Run.

I dived over the teeming mass of claws, landing in a ball onto the ground behind them. I jumped up and dashed the fastest I could. To the docking ring! The remaining two battle drones followed me, gripping not the floor for their pursuit, but crawling across the cieling with amazing speed so as to drop on top of any unweary passer-by! I dashed faster, they clawed accross the cieling faster. I rounded the corner, to see the origional pair of dead guards, their guts spilled out into the hallway.

Aha! A gun! I picked up and did my best to mount the circular rifle. I squeezed the base. A bolt shot out, picking one of the drones off the cieling and sending it flying, a large smouldering hole embedded in it's proccessor box. I faced the last drone and squeezed the base. The rifle buzzed in protest.

Damn! The last drone had networked with the rifle's computer and shut down it's use mechanism. The rifle was useless. Or was it? With superhuman strength I tossed it, barrel-side towards the drone. Several tons of force were behind it when it slammed into the drone, ripping it apart and pinning it against the wall.

I stood there a moment, panting, gaining my breath. Then, with an adventurer's spirit, I slogged down to the docking ring to stow away onto one of the departing ships.

-----------

I curled up alongside the heavy crates so as not to make myself a conspicuous target. I expected to perhaps stowaway on a transport or a shuttle, but all there was available was a beaten-up, worn down garbage scow. Wherever the Salrilians dumped their garbage, I would be traveling too.

------------------
I know not who or what I am, nor where or why I am here, I remember nothing, and I know nothing; but while I don't know why, I do know is something is terribly wrong.

I was jolted awake by a yellow light through the seams in the cargo door as the Salrilian Garbage Scow maneuvered into dumping position. So, I had finally made it to the Salrilian Empire's glorious and spectacular dumps on one of their apparently lowly-regarded planets. The whole scow stank of decomposing biological products, chemical vapors, and burnt cybernetics.

Still I was glad there was breathable air. For the whole week-long journey I was in a catatonic sleep-like state in the cargo hold, which deserved no such royalties as a pressurized atmosphere. My whole bosy had gone into centralized stasis, while my skin and hair had continued at an accelerated state to adapt to the vacuum. I had noticed the gigantic gash on my elbow had disappeared.

I was spared barely a moment to gather my surroundings when the floor began to tilt. The cargo-bay door opened and I was unceremoniously dumped from it along with the rest of the garbage. I plummeted nearly a hundred feet before landing even more unceremoniously on top of a large pile of scrap. I lay there for a second as the shock passed.

I looked around me, gathering my surroundings. The planet had a blue sky with white streaks of clouds drifting lazily about. In the center of the sky sat a single yellow sun, bright but not too bright. I was quite comfortable with it's brightness in fact. Most other suns on the alien planets I had visited were either too bright and hot, or too dim and cold. This one suited me perfectly. The atmosphere was rich, carrying a sweet-metalic smell, and was quite comfortable to breathe. It was as if the whole planet had been custom-built to suit me. Or my kind. A shudder danced down my spine as I looked off into the distance.

Beyond the garbage, beyond the blue bay with it's massive red bridge lay an abandoned and ruined city; massive burnt-out skyscrapers and hollow shells of what were once the buildings of a civilization at it's peak. The buildings were everywhere, and had even spread to the few islands that dotted the jaw-shaped bay. I saw a cracked and rubbled structure sit forebodingly on a solitary island, disconnected from the rest of the city by bridge or power line. Most likely a prison or military base. The soft crumbly material beneath my feet as I dismounted from the garbage heap must have been a road sometime, a stuttered yellow line down the center of it's jagged and eroded form, leading towards the beach. From there on, lay an infinite and uncalm ocean.

The sight disturbed me. I was on a once-great planet that had been utterly crushed into dust. Once capital of a glorious empire, now nothing more than a Salrilian Garbage Dump. I felt trapped, I knew I must somehow go from here on off this planet, no matter how familiar and natural it seemed. Almost too familiar. I knew I had been on this planet before... but when? I strained for more in my locked-away memory... yes... I had been here before.... on a blue-green planet....

Earth.

------------------
I know not who or what I am, nor where or why I am here, I remember nothing, and I know nothing; but while I don't know why, I do know is something is terribly wrong.

(Sorry I haven't been reading. I just read the part about enlisting Phylydion aid. Well, I'm here now, so go right ahead.)

Drion Nerec stood on the bridge of the Phylydia II in orbit around Dominus. Today, the capitol world was festive. Nerec watched as a ship slid from Orbital Shipyard One. She was a sleek, massive but compact battleship, the first of the new Domination II-class. The Domination-class battleships, the most common large ships in the Imperial Navy, were getting old. But the basic design was still effective. So, the Domination II-class was made. They took the Domination-class's hull and totally refitted it. This new battleship had more power, shields, armor, speed, and maneuverability. She also had new weapons: Flare-pulse batteries instead of Flare-bolt cannons. Additionally, she was the first ship to ever have the new Flare-beam weapons. As she sped from her dock, she followed the tradition of all new warships, firing several salvos at Dominus's small moon before taking up formation. She was named the Domination II, being the first of that class, and she would be the new flagship of the Phylydion Navy. The Phylydia II, while more poweful, was to remain at Dominus, the flagship of the Dominus Defense Fleet.

Within days, two more D-II class battleships would be completed, and sent off to serve as flagships in major fleets. Within a month, five more would be in service. Nerec took the lift down to his shuttle and it sped towards the Domination II.

------------------
-Traek Cicion of the Taeskor
"What sort of man is he?"
"Oh, he's just like any other man, only more so."
-Casablanca

"It's my ship, Spamo. If the cargo is on my ship, it's my business."

"I still don't see how we''re going to get in to them, they're probobly all sealed."

"Well, Spann, Obviously you've never met 'the ambassador'." Dave chuckled as he patted the duffel bag on his shoulder. Spann still seemed dubious as the tram they rode in stopped in front of the first starboard cargo hardpoint. The airlock hatch opened, and the two of them clicked on their helmets.

The pod wasn't pressureised, so it had been attatched to an outer ring on the cargo spine, and hadn't been connected to a pressure collar, so Spamo and Dave stepped out onto the acess catwalks that criss crossed the spaceframe of the docking spine. With artificial gravity working at very low power for six feet over the catwalk, Dave and Jack could walk with relative ease. They walked the last ten feet to the side of the huge cargo pod, and the massive docking clamps that held it in place.

Dave opened a small gate, and stepped onto the basket of the "cherry picker" arm. Dave hooked his feet into the restraints and closed the gate behind Spann, who hooked his feet into the straps. Spann pushed the joysticks, manouvering the basket on the end of the light manipulator arm. He reched out to an acess door on the side of the pod. Needless to say, it was locked at four points. Dave reached into the bag and pulled out a small scanner. He extended the antenna and swept the door as he moved the basket around it.

"Ok, this one has at least two intrusion sensors. Those are probably just the ones they want us to find. But no matter, I can jam these ones, I think."

He took two boxes from his bag and stuck them to the door over where he thought the detectors were. He then pulled out a huge pair of bolt cutters, and attatched the handle extentions to them, giving him over ten thousand pounds of crushing power on whatever he chose.

"Admiral Spann, meet the Ambassador"

He chucled over the intercom as he went to the first external lock and put the jaws around it.

"Spann, here's where you come in. My arm is still broken. so I need you to cut these locks."

Spann looked at Dave rather oddly

"You know this is all the property of a very good friend of mine. He would be insulted if he found out I was doing this."

"So? He won't find out. We'll tell the convoy head that the customs officer wanted in, and we'll bribe the customs officer so he won't check it out. We're golden. Shut up and cut."

Spann couldn't belive he was actually cutting his way into Wizr's Cargo pod. He leaned hard against the red bars as they slowly came together. He felt the tungsen alloy pop under the pressure from the Ambassador. As he released it, Dave reached out and took what was left of the shorn deadbolt, manouvering the basket to the next. Spann started leaning into the Ambassador, straining against the bolt. The deadbolt popped similarly, and Dave moved the arm to the third. As Spann leaned into it, Dave felt a rumbling.

"oh ****..."

As the third bolt released, the doors burst open knocking the basket back as a blast of pressureized gas washed over them. Dave was already holding the joysticks, so he managed to keep his feet in the straps as the gas washed over him. He looked to his left just in time to see Spann get hauled off of the rig by his grip on the bolt shears.

"Spann, hold on. I'll be right there."

He wasn't nearly so sure. Spann was going pretty damn fast.

He clipped the end of his reel onto the safety rail and pushed off after Spann. He used his emergency manouvering unit to drive him towards the spinning figure that was rapidly heading towards the docking spine. He could hear Spann cursing over the intercom, and couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. He just managed to catch up to Spann and grabbed a handle on his suit, at the same time reaching for the button to lock his safety reel. He hadn't looked up yet, but he knew that any second they'd hit the -- WHAM ... docking collar.

"See Spamo, that is why we should always wear safety wires on EVA."

"What the hell was that, anyway?"

"It's the way Ishimans keep their cargo clean. They fill the pods with a coupla PSI of Helium. Unfortunately, they decided not to put "pressureized" warning labels or dump valves on these pods."

"Nice... Please tell me we're going back inside."

"No way, you lost my favorite bolt shears. I want to check out the cargo."

"No Dave, I'm going inside."

"Chicken."

Dave floated through the doors to examine the contents of the container, leaveing Spann to consider yet another long sail back to the safety of the inner docking ring.
-----------------------

Now safely inside, Spann Dave and Liz were sitting in the huge library that Dave had used as his study for the last three years. The walls were wood paneled, and the furniture all solid Oak. Bookshelves lined three walls on two levels, above and forward was a huge skylight and window.

The view was sectacular, Just total empty blackness, and the occasional HVC that cut ahead of the ship. Behind and around the SS Barbarrossa a large convoy of merchant vessels flew, along with a rather large ISN escort.

Ahead lay the last few jumpgates across the Free Trade Zone, behind them the fronteir of the Protectorate. In a few days they would be at the customs station. In a few weeks they would be unloading cargo at Dominus.

Dave watched Liz and Spann staring out the window, smiled and declared

"Ok, I'm going to bed. You guys can sleep wherever, there are about a thousand-odd bedrooms. Just ask ACK if you need anything."

Dave left them alone in the library, and went for a stroll through the huge atriums of his spaceship. He sat down at a table in one of the parks and started to play chess with ACK.

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

It was nighttime. I plowed into another sapling as I stumbled my way through the immense forest. Nearly a day now. If I wasn't lost, I was mad because I could have sworn I passed that tree three times. When I got up, brushing the twigs and needles off me and propping the tree back up, something caught the corner of my eye. A light.

In the clearing forty yards ahead of me, was a base of some kind, apparently constructed as a tactical base out in the middle of the redwoods. I started running for it, hoping to find something, something other than these accursed aliens! I hoped to find someone of my own kind for once. I reached the edge of the clearing, peering over a large granite boulder.

The sight I saw amazed me to the core, disappointing me as well. It was no grand human city or friendly base; it was a Salrilian Airstrip. I sat there pondering my thoughts when my ears picked up some very loud and very obnoxious laughter. I crept closer to the source, hiding behind one of the many huge tree trunks. Huddled around a blazing large fire, two Salrilians sloshed their drink bags and drafted mouthfull after mouthfull of purple liquid. One of the spoke very loudly, his words slurred as if hiss brain had been disconnected.

_"Aya mate, if itsh one thing theshe... youmans are good for, itsh alchoholllll."

"Yah brother, thish iz th'reeeeel reashon th'prophetsh took earth..."_ Distgusting. They were quite clearly drunk. Being as foreign as all aliens were to the mysterious human substance alchohol, they enjoyed it greatly. All aliens found it an exotic good, and the years following the initial invasions of Earth, the galactic markets had been awash with bootleg copies, replicated bottles, entire tankers full of the wonderfull substance. The cantharan word for human, Whota , literally meant fire water man.

They boozed on, not noticing my stealthy appearance through the shadows. One of their necks snapped as a pair of boots flipped the hapless Salrilian over like a pancake. His friend gave me one startled look before a palm-strike shattered his cranial suit, sending blood and brains everywhere. A hand slid into his pouch, retrieving an electric card. With the passport in my hand, I hurried off into the darkness towards the airstrip.

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

It wasn't comfortable inside the feul tank. The liquid hydrogen was freezing and the pressure was immense. I was forced into my usual hibernation sleep, barely noticing the enormous shaking as the shuttle took off, destined for somewhere in orbit. Before I had climbed aboard, I had taken the time to memorize it's flight route. Shortly before blasting off towards Salril, it was to refeul at Earth Orbital Simlab Twenty Four. I would sneak off there.

------------------
I know not who or what I am, nor where or why I am here, I remember nothing, and I know nothing; but while I don't know why, I do know is something is terribly wrong.

Admiral Niura Bedein strode the bridge of the Blazer, a Kiojea-class heavy battlecruiser and the flagship of the force charged with the elimination of the rebellion. "Rebellion" was used only loosely, as the group had been seperate from mainstream Phylydion society for so many centuries that they were hardly Phylydions anymore. The population of the Imperium was not in the least sympathetic to them.

And now, a medium sized fleet gathered outside of an asteroid field. The fleet floated just outside the sensor range of a large rebel base deep within the field. Soon, it would plunge inward, surrounding and destroying one of the last significant rebel outposts.

The Blazer's captain strode up to Bedein. "Sir, the fleet is assembled."
"What is the precise size of our force?"
"Two battlecruisers, including the Blazer, six destroyers, and one light carrier."
"What is the assessment of the rebel base's strength?"
"Three frigates protect the base, and the base itself has four heavy flare-bolt turrets. We don't know their exact strength, however, as more ships may be hiding in the field."
"Very well, captain. Order the carrier to launch fighters and have them do a quick sweep. Then we'll go into the field with the other battlecruiser and two destroyers. The other ships will wait outside the field and destroy or capture any escaping craft."
"Yes, sir." The young captain nodded and walked to his command station, transferring Bedein's orders.

The light carrier launched ten fighters, which plunged into the field. It was not a dense field, so the ships would have little difficulty navigating it. The fighters reported all was as they had expected. The Blazer's captain looked at Bedein, and Bedein nodded. The ships headed into the field. The sensor operator looked up. "Captain, large asteroid headed right for us!"
"Blast it apart!" The ship's smaller turrets rotated and fired, but the asteroid didn't break apart. It kept coming, with only small pieces missing. Bedein frowned. "Scan it." The sensor operator performed a quick scan, then looked up with horror.
"It's pure durantium, and..." he looked at his display. "It has a thruster on it!"
"Evasive!" Bellowed the captain. The Blazer dodged out of the way, but the two destroyers weren't so lucky. Both were struck by two of the odd missiles, and one was crippled. A pair of fighters appeared out of nowhere, fired missles into a gaping hole in the disabled ship's side, and destroyed it. The last thruster asteroid was blown to pieces by the other Kiojea's massive heavy flare-pulse battery.

Bedein sighed. "Any sign of the frigates?"
"Here they come, sir. And... They's got an old light cruiser."
"Where'd they get that kind of firepower?"
"I don't know. That class of ship was deemed obsolete ten years ago."
"All right. Target the cruiser first."
"Yessir."

The Blazer's heavy compression cannons spat glowing projectiles at the cruiser. The projectiles had a sort of a ripply wake. This wake was the bend in space that any object as dense as a compression projectile must create. The projectiles struck, downing the cruiser's shields almost instantly and starting to work their way through the hull. The other Kiojea fired on the cruiser with its heavy flare-pulse battery. Bedein turned to the captain. "I didn't know any Kiojeas were equipped with those kinds of weapons."
"It's the new upgraded version," said the captain. Bedein grunted and wondered why the most powerful ship wasn't his flagship. But the rebel fleet was soon destroyed.

As the ships turned towards the spacestation base, it detonated in a brilliant burst of flame. "Kadt," said Bedein softly. "We really could've used prisoners to provide us with information."
"The destroyers outside the field didn't capture anyone either," said the first officer. "All the ships they disabled self-destructed." Bedein shook his head sadly.

Another victory, and a very unsatisfying one, was dealt against the shrinking rebellion.

------------------
-Traek Cicion of the Taeskor
"What sort of man is he?"
"Oh, he's just like any other man, only more so."
-Casablanca

I was jolted into consciousness by the loud sound of docking. I drifted in the liquid hydrogen, gripping for a hold somewhere in the feul tank.

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

The shuttle sat in the cargo dock, attatched to a feeding line. All was quiet. One of it's external feul tanks began to rumble lightly. There was a clang, and a large dent stuck out. There was another loud clang, and all went haywire. A massive hole had been smashed in the tank from the inside. Frozen and liquid hydrogen blasted everywhere, sending the shuttle into a spin into the docks. Debris and broken plate metal scattered into deep space as the shuttle collided with the simlab. A large hole was smashed in the trench gouged by the remnants of the shuttle. Immediately, air and the insides of that section of the station blew out from the pressure.

The blast doors began clamping down like a pair of giant jaws, straining to keep the contents in. If an observer hadn't been so concerned with this catastrophy, they might have noticed a single human leap inside the station before the blast doors snapped shut.

------------------
I know not who or what I am, nor where or why I am here, I remember nothing, and I know nothing; but while I don't know why, I do know is something is terribly wrong.

"I am pleasssed you took your responsibilites to your race seriously, Darkk."
"I feel the same way. I've been running too long. I still find it hard to believe you would want me to have any political power at all."

Darkk was standing in a small square office, facing a rather self-important Salrilian. Darkk had accepted their 15th offer for the job of "Governor of Earth". The duities involved were rubber-stamping Salrilian tyranny and opression, and dodging assassination attempts. The pay was nice, though. He noted that the opportunities for corruption and graft had been almost enumerated in the offer. They wanted a corrupt "administration" for the humans to focus their anger on. Darkk would give them a run through on the finer points of backstabbing politics.

"We know your planet needs capable leadership to prosper."
Darkk could hardly contain his laughter at this. The Sals wanted Earth to prosper like they wanted holes in their heads. If there was anything Darkk could do about it, they would get both. There didn't seem to be much he could do at the moment more than be a petty annoyance. The Sals couldn't shoot him, as there would be nobody else to take the job of being their public-relations figurehead. The resistance, however would love to. Poor misguided saps. They still have a few of those old "submarines" Darkk remebered from his days prior to the launch of Ares aka Apollo. They also have a lot of guns and such, which they would more than likely use to try to assassinate him.

LET 'EM TRY!

Darkk was looking forward to physically hurting someone - such good stress relief.

"I'll let you go about your duties now."

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Dock 36B
A Salrilian transport sat on the pad, being loaded by humans.
"Hurry it up, you freeloaders!!" shouted its captain.

A couple of Gaitori wearing militia uniforms walked up.
"Excuse me sir, but the Governor has ordered a revision in the customs procedures. There have been some "incidents" lately, and everyone is instructed to be on guard. We are required to search ALL vessles, even ones exempt under prior regulations."
"Oh, fine."

The Gaitori made a thorough search, and came back holding a bottle of gin each.
"We are terribly sorry, but under the new crackdown on smuggling this undeclared shipment is grounds for the confiscation of your vessle."
" WHAT?!?!? "
"The governor has stated that the statues will be enforced strictly. We will arrange transportation for you and your people to your port of regestration."

It took 33.3592 minutes for the captian to stop screaming invectives.

The Gaitori forgot to mention that they were new to the militia, and had prior training in the DEF.

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"Mr. Darkk? There's some men to see you..."
Darkk's private secretary, assigned him by the Salrilians, was a nervious young woman who had been through so much she seemed continually fearful, and had the eggshell-walking manner common to those who lived through all sorts of disasters.

This would be the first assassination attempt. Darkk verified his plasma cannon was armed and set it to heat up quitely. "Show them in, then."

"Mr. Darkk, we need to talk."
"I don't think we have much to discuss at the moment. You're from the resistance, that bulge in your pocket is a really nice gun, and you're here to shoot me for collaberation without giving me a chance to explain myself."
"Heh, for a lapdog you're pretty perceptive."

The man in front drew the submachine gun. Darkk noted it was a GRK-67 - 20MM ammo, 2 shots per second, 30 round clip, laser sight, holy crap accurate.

Darkk had grabbed his hand before the man in front had gotten the safety off, and had twisted it around. Darkk kicked him hard to the face, sending him to the floor, still holding the gun in a position that was probably breaking the man's wrist bones. He then put his foot on the man's chest before he could release the gun and pulled up hard.

While he was doing all of this, the other 2 men had begun to get their guns out. Darkk took the SMG and popped a shot into each of their knees, then into each of their shoulders.
Darkk dropped it on the floor, cooled his plasma cannon, and walked out.
"Lisa, please send a medic up here. Those poor men had an accident."

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

"Wake up, Jocko."
Jocko, the man who had pulled the gun on Darkk first, woke up in the infirmary bed.
Darkk was standing over him with a small bouquet.
"Feeling better?"
"You treasonous hypocritical monster!"
"I thank you for the first and last charges, but the middle one is slightly offensive. I cannot recal a single instance of hypocricy."
"You sack of..."
"Heh, for your information, I'm not all that bad. Given your obvious incompetance and lack of experience, I've decided to let you and your friends go. They'll have to stay a bit longer, as I shot them in the legs and shoulders instead of just breaking a few ribs, an arm, a clavacle, and a wrist."
"Psycho arrogant murderous barbaric..."
"Heh. I consider all of those compliments, except the last one, which isn't very harsh at all."
"YOU F***ING..."
"Well, I see you're rather unable to appreciate mercy. Still, here you go."

Jocko looked at the document Darkk handed him. A full pardon.

"Wha?"
"I consider treasonous a compliment, remeber that when you get out. Don't worry about Salrilian secret police coming here, this is one of my people's facilities. I have a lot of work to do, now."

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

"Darkk, we heard there wasss an assssasssssination attempt."
"Totally incompetant and ill-planned. I let them off with severe bodily harm."

Then the Salrilian noticed that Darkk was wearing his old Ares uniform, with a picture on the back of a stylized hand crushing the life out of a Cantharan and a Salrilian.

"Why do you dressssss like that, human?"
Darkk noted the change in tone. They had noticed. Let them.
"I wore this during my period of greatest success. Many humans are silly about about an item of clothing, and I am not that much less silly than most."
"We will watch you, human."
The Salrilian signed off.

LET THEM. <snicker>

------------------
Formerly-Rampant Human-Coded AI

(This message has been edited by Fleet Admiral Darkk (edited 04-26-2001).)