Ambrosia Garden Archive
    • I think it's your turn to post, Slug...

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      "You can get much further with kind words and a loaded gun than you can with kind words alone."
      - Al Capone

    • Pharris, I don't know how many times I've crippled your vessel and then boarded it again. This is getting monotonous so I'm taking the plot in a different direction.

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

      The Blips came closer to the center of the screen where the Barbarosa was relatively positioned. Everyone held their breath.

      "Chief, do we have enough power for scanners?" Pharris hazarded. The comm spat static back.

      "Barely."

      "Do it." Pharris breathed.

      A few moments of suspense hung in the air. "Captain, this is..... not Slug's fleet, but apparently they're looking for him."

      "I thought you said all pursuing fleets were destroyed."

      "Yes, sir, but this was heading straight for him on an intercept course. They're requesting communications.... they're ordering communications."

      "Put their commander on." Pharris said. The screen blinked, and the motionless stars were replaced with the features of a rough-looking Obiard wearing Generals Stripes. Pharris grimaced. "Who the hell are you?" Pharris demanded.

      "Haven't you read your history, human? General Swtz of the Third Primary Armada of Obain."

      "Actually, General, I am familiar with history. And it says you are dead."

      "I am looking for an... aquaintance of mine. Your ship and your life is mine now, the sooner you tell me the position of his ships, the sooner you can be left alone."

      "You know, you Obiards have alway-"

      " Tell me the position of the fleet. "

      "-have always irritated me with that superior attitude of yours-"

      " Pharris, your ship is mine and it will not do you well to talk back at me in that fashion. " The Barbarosa shuddered as docking clamps locked it onto Swtz's Juggernaut.

      "Wrong, Obiard, the Barbarosa's mine." Pharris keyed at his pad, every light that was still active suddenly flashed red.

      The hull of the Barbarosa screeched as lasers carved away at it's surface, creating a door for the Obish boarding party. A squad of armored soldiers burst into the bridge.

      As he was lead away in handcuffs, Pharris grumbled under his breath. "Oh, but I still have the last card, Obiard."

      (Pharris, email me before continuing this plot)

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      Good laws are produced by extremely bad manners.
      -Alduran Pirate Captain Macrobius
      StarLance

    • Darkk had ordered all Nijayas pirates to stand down. He also had informed the Nijayas and Phylydians he was back. "Time to make the big play," Darkk thought.

      A course was laid in for Phylydia. The nano-assembaly plant aboard the ship was making a traditional Nijayas diplomatic uniform, with the addition of Darkk's rank strips on the shoulders...

      ------------------
      Me: You ******* IDIOTS!! That planet was INHABITED!!!
      Them: Ooops
      Me: Let's resume this disscussion at the admiralty court near airlock 13.
      (immediatly following the first disrupter missle test)

    • Darkk's vessel approached Dominus, the capitol of the Phylydion Imperium. As it dropped out of FTL, a trio of the new Kiojea-class heavy battlecruisers approached, weapons and shields full charged and online. "This is Garrion Retoe, PhylSec agent and acting captain of the Conqueror. Identify yourself." The Phylydions had good security, he had to give them that. He could have taken on the ships and destroyed them if he had to, of course, but he wouldn't want to scrap ships of such value.
      "This is Fleet Admiral Darkk," he felt good saying again, "Of the Nijayias remnant. I am here for an audience with the High Octicon."
      "Checking your ID transponder... clear to proceed."

    • (Hang on. Nobody post on my part of the plot until I hear from Sargatanus. This is important. I'll let you know by casting the first post 😉 )

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      Me: You ******* IDIOTS!! That planet was INHABITED!!!
      Them: Ooops
      Me: Let's resume this disscussion at the admiralty court near airlock 13.
      (immediatly following the first disrupter missle test)

    • (Ok, it's cool) (Oh, and this is long. Sorry, but I need to return to the bar.)

      Darkk smoothed his uniform. It was nearly time for his audiance.

      ...

      Supreme Octicate: Fleet Admiral Darkk (if I may call you that), lately of the NIN, please state your case for replacing the Protectorate Governor.
      " Simple, really. Look at these. a chart appears on the big monitor, with hundreds on entries These are all the NIN vessles unnacounted for so far. I can state with confidence 98% or more are currently opperating as pirates. This list another chart replaces it is the date, time, location, involved ship(s), damages, and fatalities of all pirate attacks commited by former NIN ships.
      Military Octicate: We are currently putting a stop to this!!
      " So you are. This graph represents total losses to all ships from your anti-piracy actions. The bars in order from largest to smallest represent losses by catagory: Phylydian commercial and private ships, Phylydian naval ships, neutral ships, and finaly Nijayas Pirate ships.
      MO :These numbers are ludacrous!!!!!! Where did you make them up?!?!?
      " Actualy, these are from your own office. The pr rep told me they were for an announcement to be made today and said I could use them...
      MO :Very well, what is your point?
      " I am so respected among the traditionalists, that they would go along with anything I said in the abscence of the Royal Family. And I could wind up the pirate threat and the rioting in only 3 weeks by my estimate.
      Judicial Octicate: You believe your mere ethos (good name/reputation) could quell all that?!?
      " Not merely that. A Nijayas leader must provide, for lack of a better word, subtler support than almost all other leaders can.
      SO: What do you mean?
      " I mean that I know the secrets, tricks, and ploys necissary to rule the Nijayas. Me, and no one else living.
      Balence Octicate: That might explain your further requests...
      JO: reads Darkk's proposal Blanket pardons! Outrageous. I might have granted you Governorship, but not pardon power!
      " Without that, I would not be able to stop... THIS! *A sim window appears on the screen. Simulated pirate attacks take place as a timer ticks off months, weeks, days, and hours, and another counter climbs at a fantanstic pace.
      MO: What is this?
      " An extrapolation of current data. The pirates have shipyards and can sense the approach of the Phylydian Navy. Their numbers will only increase, and so will the number of Phylydian dead, as indicated by the counter. After half a year, there will have been more casualties from piracy than in the rest of the past 2 decades combined...
      MO: We will find those shipyards! It's only a matter of time!
      " Really. Did you know almost all Nijayas shipyards have emergancy jumpstream equipment and shields of planetary class? There's no way you could hunt them down. The Hyrakian Nebula, their primary staging area, contains enough hiding space alone to hide practicaly forever, even if every ship in the Phylydian navy was called after them.
      MO: How do you know they are there? We've had suspicions...
      " I can FEEL their presence there.
      MO: Then lead us to them!
      " You have no authority to do that, however if you give me the authority I asked for, you would have authority over me. Of course, then the solution would be MY way. But it would be the solution with fewest Phylydian casualties.
      MO: How can you be sure they will obey you at all?!?!?
      " Because they are traditionalists, and the Fleet Admiral becomes Emporer in the event of a lack of succesors. They COULD NOT disobey me.

      The Octicon deliborated for 2 hours. Ordinarily such a decision would have taken days, but the Octicon was more worried about the Sals.

      SO: Darkk, we have granted your requests. In 2 days, you will be Governor of the Phylydian zone of Nijayas space. And you will have the authority you requested.
      " And the piracy will cease ... immediatly.
      SO: Are you in communication with them?
      " Sort of. The primal psychic link of our species can be used by the rightful ruler to exert authority. I am now beginning the "calling".
      SO: Couldn't you have done it earlier?!?!?
      " smiles I didn't really have the right.
      SO: Oh, get out Darkk. Just make the piracy stop. We have more important worries

      (url="http://"http://www.AmbrosiaSW.com/webboard/Forum11/HTML/000032-17.html")Darkk could use a drink to celebrate...(/url)

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      Me: You ******* IDIOTS!! That planet was INHABITED!!!
      Them: Ooops
      Me: Let's resume this disscussion at the admiralty court near airlock 13.
      (immediatly following the first disrupter missle test)

    • Sundered Angel finishes his scan of the bar, and moves over to the table Avatara is sitting at, picking up a drink from the bar on the way. He sits opposite Avatara, silently sipping at his Devil's Breath. His blue eyes search the mercenary, who begins to feel a little uncomfortable. Then he leans back and spits a gout of fire at the roof, expelling his breath with an explosive "Aah". He looks at Avatara.

      "Tell me, are you interested in a little mission?"

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      Sundered Angel ,
      The One and Only

      Ares Webboard Moderator, and all-around Nice Guy

    • Cicion was in the training room of the Phylydia which was en route to Dominus to be modified. He finished his excercizes and approached a block of a granite-like substance. He drew his arm back and concentrated with every neuron in his brain. Silently, he thrust his arm forward, palm out, extremely rapidly, and stopped it completely a foot from the block's surface. Spiderweb cracks formed throughout the block. He repeated the motion, and the block shattered and was blown back several feet to collect in a pile of dust on the floor.

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      -Traek Cicion of the Taeskor

      "Never tell me the odds!"
      -Han Solo

      "Then we'll do it real quiet-like."
      -Han Solo

    • Avatara leans back in his chair, trying to relax.

      "Uh...sure, why not? Although, it will cost you of course." Avatara said, slightly uncertain.

      "I presumed it would. What is your price for a 'simple' mission?" Sundered Angel replied in a much calmer voice.

      "It depends, usually it would fall somewhere between 500 and 2,000 shintak."

      "Good, we'll get back to specifics, now what I am asking you to do is..."

      (Cicion: yes I am trading in your currency; I frequent the bar enough that it gets to be a pain to have to exchange between currencies.)

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      (This message has been edited by Avatara (edited 10-15-2000).)

    • Sundered Angel leans back in his seat, sipping at his drink. He smiles.

      "The mission is quite simple. I need you to deliver a small package to Earth and bury it in the sands of the Sahara Desert. It's possible that you may have unwelcome attention enroute, but I expect it to be minimal, so combat pay will be 5000 schintak per battle, plus 2000 for the mission itself. Payable in Earth currency, of course, on arrival. Sound reasonable?"

      ------------------
      Sundered Angel ,
      The One and Only

      Ares Webboard Moderator, and all-around Nice Guy

    • "Great, I'll start in the morning." Avatara says as Sundered Angel slips him the package. Avatara stands up and is about to head over to the counter when muffled shouting is heard from the hanger. Sundered Angel betrays shock for a brief few seconds before he regains control of himself.

      "No, slip out now. And hurry, if those people out there catch you, the mission is doomed." Sundered Angel spoke as he grabbed Avatara's sleeve.

      "If you insist, but how am I supposed to leave with all of them outside the door?"

      "Cicion has a back door, follow me."

      A few moments later, the Azurewrath sailed away from the bar and headed toward the first hyperjump point. Sundered Angel stared up at it as it faded from view. Yes, he had made the right choice.

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    • The StormBreaker and Phylydia zoomed through omnispace towards Dominus. Darkk had felt the sensor scans, and could feel the techs aboard probing StormBreaker. It was only natural, he thought, that they would try to figure out its secrets. It HAD come from a different universe, and he HAD claimed (while refusing an official ship) that it could overwhelm a good 1/3 of the Primary Armada's firepower (aka the Phylydia). But their efforts were wasted. There were no major weapons anywhere. The secret to StormBreaker 's firepower was that it could generate a "virtual weapon effect" - in other words, use replicators, graviton emitters, and e=mc2 converters to produce any physical or energy weapon, and many other types of weapons, that it had data on. It could even create new weapon effects, once the propper code was in the central computer. At current, the most powerful weapon it could use was the disruptor missle, but Darkk had heard rumors of worse.

      (Sargatanus, before you or anyone else complain about the StormBreaker being too strong, remember that it'll need to be to stand a George Lucas chance (think first Death Star). And also, there are many other drawbacks I will introduce as needed, such as fragility, power requirements, recharge time, etc.)

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      Me: You ******* IDIOTS!! That planet was INHABITED!!!
      Them: Ooops
      Me: Let's resume this disscussion at the admiralty court near airlock 13.
      (immediatly following the first disrupter missle test)

    • An Obish Colonel stood behind the mirrors on the wall of the interrogation room, watching several of his finest officers beating on Pharris.

      One of the larger offecers came forward, just out of Pharris's sight. "Tell us where the fleet is now, if you value your ears." He demanded, raising a nasty-looking blade by Pharris's head. Pharris spat on the obiard's face, burning him slightly with his 'volatile human oral acids' as Swtz had so many times in the past dubbed.

      Humans are, and always have been, the strongest and most physically powerful species in the galaxy. No alien could expect to get in a fight with a human and survive, because of sheer brute strength. A reason the Cantharans chose to enslave mankind rather than wipe them out in an attempt to harness that power. That was why when the officer grabbed at his now raw face, he dropped the blade which cut the strings binding Pharris's hands.

      Pharris sprung into action. He headbutted one of the security obiards, sending him sailing unconscious to a corner. With his feet, Pharris kicked up the chair and caught it in his hands, swinging it dangerously. Before the second officer could de-holster his blaster, he was also knocked out by the metal chair. Dropping the chair, Pharris sprung for the doorway. "Yes!" he oomphed, seeing as the forcefield, perhaps in innocence (or arrogence) had been left off he jumped into the hallway.

      He ran down the whole prison cell wing, pushing every button on the way and releasing his crew. "Come on!" He shouted, running ahead, "There's not much time! We must steal a shuttle and escape within the next three minutes if we are to live." The Humans scurried for their guns.

      -----

      Meanwhile, on the bridge, Swtz stared at the stars sourly. So when the internal security alarms went off he was very startled. "What the tronoth is going on?!" he screamed at the chief constable.

      "Sir, the humans! They've escaped! They're heading for the airlocks."

      Swtz pondered their move. "Hmm. They know our team on the Barbarosa has them outnumbered and outgunned. They're heading for the-"

      "Unauthorised shuttle launch from the main bay! It's the humans!"

      "Lock on the shuttle and fire!"

      "We can't, sir, it's just engaged it's stealth field!"

      Swtz swore. "Kadt! Lost them."

      "Yes sir."

      "But we still have their Barbarosa."

      "Science teams have found something."

      "Report."

      An obish science officer with an ocular implant appeared on the screen. "We've managed to hack into the main computer and it's giving us some strange coordinates."

      "Put it on"

      The calm voice of the Barbarosa's computer came over the comm channel "seven...six...five...four...three-"

      Swtz's eyes dialated. "Oh shďt."

      "two...one..."

      ----------

      On the stolen shuttle, Pharris and his crew watched as the Barbarosa, still attached to Swtz's Juggernaut, self destructed in a massive explosion. The flare guard kicked in, dimming the screen to a dark grey for a few seconds. The shuttle shuddered slightly as the shockwave passed and a tear rolled down Pharris' cheek. As the guard lifted, the destruction was seen. No survivors. Where The Barbarosa and Swtz's command ship once stood, now there was an expanding cloud of gas, twisted metal, and remnants of bodies.

      A obish generals stripes floated by the screen. Two legends had died that day.

      Pharris's second-in-command tore his eyes away from the sadness. "Course, sir?"

      Pharris still watched painfully. The debris, and the rest of the obish fleet which had now come scurrying in to see what the hell had happenned to Swtz's ship. He could hear their frantic wails and howls of sorrow as they wept to each other on the Obish Comm unit.

      Pharris responded to his second in command. "Set a course for UNS space."

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      Good laws are produced by extremely bad manners.
      -Alduran Pirate Captain Macrobius
      StarLance

    • (A patrol on the outskirts of UNS space)

      Onboard the private gunship "Mariposa" captain Jackson "El Spamo" Spann paced the bridge. This was no ordinary mission that he was sent out by the Company. Indeed, it was exceedingly odd. What reason would he have to go out here, on the edge of explored space? There wasn't any hostilities between the humans and obish in a good long time. In fact, El Spamo couldn't remember when the last time he had an argument with an obiard. That could be because of his intimidating 6'3", heavyseat frame. Though he was tall, and thick, much of that was muscle. Growing up in the slums back on earth, he joined a company which he excelled in as a pilot. After many years of service, this Gunship, the Mariposa was given to him as a gift for his brave defense of a valuable shipping fleet from pirates. Pesky things, those pirates, and everywhere these days. That had prompted capt. El Spamo to "modify" his ship a bit. Extra armor and a souped up engine, far beyond specs give the ship the same manuverability as before, but with armor and shielding fitting that of a much larger ship. External missile racks were added to give long range punch, and the Phoenix missles loaded in them were viciously accurate. A second laser turret was added on the underside, cutting down the blind spot to nearly nothing. Extra capacitors added to fire rate, and a widend power cable added a bit more power. Consequently, the size of the turrents are much larger, and the ship much uglier. The magno-pulse gun has always had short range, but by lengththening the barrels, and adding more power (much abundance there!) the range nearly comparable to that of the standard laser cannons. Almost.

      But what good are those out here in space that hasn't been colonised yet?
      El Spamo did not know. But, it was easy money, and Spamo needed the spare time to work on his swordsmanship, a little hobby he had picked up as an alternative to fist-fighting. He rarely went anywhere without his custom-made katana, usually strapped on his back.

      Spamo sat back in the captains chair and ordered up a cup of tea, when the sensors registered a small craft.

      "Hail the craft ensign" said El Spamo.
      "Aye sir. Hailing open".

      "This is captain Jackson Spann of the N.S. Mariposa. Identify yourself please."

      "Mariposa, this is the obiard shuttle 1294-k. I am Captain Pharris..."

      (Pharris, I hope you'll take advantage of this?)

      (Sorry, but your story was a tad inaccurate. It takes place on the border of known space near the Arliacian system, not Obish space. I just tuned it up a bit. -Slug)
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      Ne Cede Malis Sed Contra Audientor Ito

      (This message has been edited by Slug (edited 10-16-2000).)

    • (Sheesh, now Phylydion swearwords are catching on!)

      A blinding multi-colored flash erupted in space as the Phylydia dropped out of Omni space drive. Cicion was pleased to note that the newly made necessary trio of Kiojea's was already in front of them, shields up, weapons locked on. They instantly recognized the two ships, however, and pulled into escort formation as the collosal ships glided towards Dominus. The StormBreaker prepared to dispatch a shuttle to convey Darkk to the surface, but the Phylydia slid into a spacedock for modifications. One object that dominated the viewports of both ships was the largest orbital shipyard in history that was currently building a very familiar looking ship. Cicion smiled. "The Phylydia II is coming along quite nicely."

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      -Traek Cicion of the Taeskor

      "Never tell me the odds!"
      -Han Solo

      "Then we'll do it real quiet-like."
      -Han Solo

    • "I was in one of the sensory deprivation cells, you know, floating in the water in the dark, They damped out all the sounds in the room, I couldn't even hear myself talk... crazy... I must have been in there for seven or eight hours, and I was starting to feel real nuts, when the chief blasted the tank out with his pulse rifle. He had managed to hide in one of the smuggling compartments on the Barbarossa, and had snuck out when the coast was clear. He snuck into the Obiard ship and pulled me out of the tank, then we made our way to the main detention center, and released the rest of the crew.
      By that time, the Obiards had caught up to us, but we had stolen weapons from the guards, and we were pretty well armed. We stormed the ship, and tried to take the bridge, but they sealed themselves in, and we didn't have any charges that could get throught the blast doors, but we were almost out of time. We split up, and took three shuttles and as many fighters as possible from the docking bay, and split.
      We were clear just as the Barbarossa's self destruct went off, wrecking the Obiard ship, and sending it tumbling into one of their battleships that was holding station nearby. As we puled out the whole fleet was in a mess, trying to escape the explosion from the magazine of that battleship.

      We managed to get clear in the chaos, and the three of us split up to cover our tracks. We're supposed to rendezvous at the bar in two weeks, but I'd like to get to Sol first, I need to talk to a few of my friends at some shipyards. I hope you'll grant us asylum aboard your ship, this shuttle is out of fuel and low on food."

      El Spamo smiled, impressed and amused by the story, though not willing to admit it wholly.
      "Alright, I'll grant ye passage to Sol, if you insist, even a passenger job is better than patrol work. I'll try to find room too stow you and your crew for the timebeing."

      El Spamo directed his lietentant to lead the crew to their quarters, as Pharris was walking out the door, El Spamo shouted "Oh and Pharris! I'd try and keep quiet, if I were you... lots of people know about that price on your head."

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    • The Mariposa tore through space back towards the Sol system. Captain El Spamo sat in his private lounge, thinking about the story that Captain Pharris had told. An odd tale at the very least. Something wasn't quite right... the Obiards are not a careless race, and the late General Swtz was the epitomy of meticulusness. He wouldn't leave an enemy ship in his cargo bay without wiping it clear of all life-forms. It'd be too dangerous. Swtz wouldn't have done that. Beyond that, the fact that the humans cleared a goodly portion of the General's ship of crew and then stole a few shuttles isn't too amazing. He'd done so himself on one occasion, though not quite on as heavily armed crew. And once he'd gotten his Katana back, well, the crew died rather quickly. He'd even gotten a good deal of money from selling the old scow.

      Back to thinking about his current situation... Pharris had a price on his head. The thought of turning him in to the authorities crossed his mind more than once, but Spamo's curiousity and general dislike of the bounty hunters precluded this course of action.

      Now, how did this amazing rendevous take place? Why was the Mariposa in such an opportune place as to encounter the shuttle at a point where they would have to make a course correction to a refueling depot? Curious indeed. Somebody had tipped off the Company as to the coordinates. But wouldn't that require the fact that somebody on the inside of Pharris's crew would be in the know?

      click "Lieutenant, activate the recorders in the guest rooms please"
      "Yes sir".

      El Spamo was nothing if not prudent, and those recorders have gotten him pounds of juicy information.

      click "Lieutenant, please summon captain Pharris to my lounge please"
      "Yes sir"

      Perhaps El Spamo should have a small chat with pharris about his recent thinkings.

      whoosh
      "Captain El Spamo?" Spoke captain Pharris, standing in the doorway.
      "Have a seat Pharris, I've got a couple things I want to discuss with you."

      "Of course" said Pharris as he took a seat.

      El Spamo began to tell pharris a tale of his own.
      The Company would not be happy to lose this renegade Pharris, though El Spamo, but they're going to have to deal with it...

      (Thanks for the corrections Slug. I didn't have time to read through the 100 some-odd posts)

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      Ne Cede Malis Sed Contra Audientor Ito

    • Since the appointement had taken place, Darkk had had StormBreaker's main server sending pardons to the Phylydian Criminal Database at an insane rate. The entire known pirate forces had been pardoned in under 2 hours. Darkk had also created a small militia, consisting mainly of refitted bulk freighters with huge crews. The old NIN ships were decommisioned and melted down. The shipyard crews had returned to their daily lives. Everything seemed peaceful back home.

      Darkk was in a hurry to give his report on the Arliacians and go back to the Palace, to see to putting everything right.

      ------------------
      Me: You ******* IDIOTS!! That planet was INHABITED!!!
      Them: Ooops
      Me: Let's resume this disscussion at the admiralty court near airlock 13.
      (immediatly following the first disrupter missle test)

    • "Hold on!" Spamo said to Pharris with a lopsided grin. "We gave this thing the new QuasiSpace Wave Propulsion drive. You may feel some slight turbulence."

      Spamo, Pharris, and his crew were all pressed into their seats as the drive was engaged. There was a massive muffled explosion in the background and the engines kicked out. The ship dropped back into normal space with a jolt.

      "Damnit!" Spamo cursed. "I thought we had this thing worked out. Science level: report."

      "Sir, that was no ordinary pothole. There's a Dimensional rift somewhere in the system."

      "Wha....?" Spamo grinded his teeth in consternation. "What could cause a rift that bi..." He trailed off. "Pharris, what kind of engine core did the Barbarosa overload when it self destructed?"

      Pharris stepped out of the shadows. "Ishiman Singularity drive. You don't think...."

      Spamo slapped his forehead. "When the Barbarosa exploded, it destabalised the fabric of space in this sector. The we engaged our quasimatter drive, it got full blown into an interdimensional wormhole!"

      The Science officer interrupted. "Sir, we're intercepting some communications from the ships in the remnants of the Obish fleet.... There's some weapons fire and a lot of shouting."

      "The wormhole?"

      "Something came out.... I'm reading a star, three moons and an asteroid belt."

      "It warped in a system from a parallel universe?"

      "Something more.... the Obish are being wiped out by whatever it is."

      Spamo was frustrated "What are they fighting?!"

      "Hang on sir, I'm trying to relay some more comm signals.... level 12 mass!"

      Pharris interjected. "Level 12

    • Cicion walked back and forth on the bridge. Good things had happened lately. The captured Kiojea-class ship that had rescued Cicion had been recaptured along with the Crimson Tear and nothing had been lost. Kiojeas were now reaching almost mass-production levels, and had been put into every major fleet and armada. The Phylydia II, the most top secret project in the Imperium, was almost halfway done. She was as big and powerful as the Phylydia but much faster and more maneuverable, and carried more fighters to boot. The Phylydia's fighter squadrons were patrolling the outer edges of the system so the Phylydion Dominus defense squadrons could rest and refuel. Plus, the Phylydia had just finished being modified. It now had two forward-firing heavy compression guns, and a much more sophisticated sensor suite. Also, it had the maneuvering program for a very sophisticated planet assault maneuver in its data banks. This was called a slammer in military jargon, and what happened was this: A very large ship would approach a planet and dive towards it. The ship would hit the atmosphere at precisely the angle and force so that it would cause a tremendous shockwave of air which would slam into the surface, demolishing anything present.

      Cicion walked ino the docking bay, entered the Crimson Tear, and took her flying around the Dominus system.

      ------------------
      -Traek Cicion of the Taeskor

      "Never tell me the odds!"
      -Han Solo

      "Then we'll do it real quiet-like."
      -Han Solo