"We have the results of the last tests, sir."

"And?"

"These are numbers I have never seen before in a human... strength, speed, agility, intelligence.... all these are frighteningly advanced!"

"Good... what is the status of the device?"

"Stable and offline. Set on Level Two Offense Condition."

"Ready the subject for deployment."

"But sir, we don't know what kinds of effects the stresses of a first mission would have on him. It could destabilize his perception of things, and judging by these statistics... if he were to go rampant there would be little we could do to stop him!"

"That was the problem with the previous test subjects. He believes us to the most part, but he isn't quite sure of himself."

"The previous Test subjects discovered the truth. We need something to make him believe he's one of us."

"A trial run."

------------------
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 discovered something today during Memory Reintegration Therapy today. Among the many newely-gained valuable experiences I left the building with today, only one of them left that impression on me.

I have a name. I am, or was, Smai of the Gul family. My full title is gul'Smai. I spent all day saying my name, testing how it sounded, what it meant to me....

gul'Smai! gul'Smai! gul'Smai!

It is the most beautiful word I have ever heard since my freedom. My brothers on the homeworld have given me so much back to me. In the Population Databanks of Gaitor, my whole life had been neatly tucked away on a computer. They showed it to me.

I was born on the homeworld itself, back when my people, the Terrans, were still alive. I was a part of the War Guild of Gaitor, serving as a squad leader for my people when we first encountered the.. the evil Obain.

The Obain and the Dominus annihilated my kind when I was only 12-cycles old. My people tried their best to protect me, but me and a few other terrans were kidnapped and sold to the Salril for life confinement in the science prison. Many Gaitori heroricly lost their lives bravely defending the Terrans. For the next seven cycles I was a slave, a prisoner, to the Salril I was nothing more than a 'thing' to be experimented on.

It was there I was rescued bravely by my brothers, who defeated the combined Obain/Salril Armada with merely a strike force. Gaitor is a glorious civilization. I love it. They helped me 'remember' how to speak, read and write Gaitori this morning with their great 'remembering machines'. Literally said, my name means twice born. Ironic at least.

Tonight I repay my debt to my people. My first mission in over seven cycles. I will be one of the many marines on the Assault Transport Personell Carrier G.C.S. Breathtaker in a small raiding fleet.

Our plan is to approach and penetrate a local Obain feulling station in the Remus system. Once in we will make for the power couplings for each of the feul tanks. Once we've secured the charges we will return to the transport and detonate the charges at a safe distance.

It will be a spectacular explosion._

------------------
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.

Mag's crew was busy loading up the cargo bay with all of the wines they hadn't sold. It was going quickly, but the Salrillians were fast, they'd be there soon. Things could've turned out much better. Now the Sals probably knew about every one of his ship's gizmos, and there'd be no surprising them. Ah, well. The wines could be sold elsewhere. An orange beam lanced past him, sparking as it came into contact with his ship's hull.

Mag and his crew all ran for the cargo bay. Several more shots were fired, and some of Mag's crew were hit, and other crew members near them picked them up to carry them. One of the wine containers erupted into flame as a shot from the Salrillians ignited the alcohol. As the cargo bay door at the back of the transport was closing, Mag counted the Salrillian troopers. Only four of them. This is too easy, something's going on, was Mag's thought right before the cargo bay door closed.

Mag hurred up the stairs to the catwalk over the cargo bay, and headed for the door. Most of the other crew members were inside already.

"Take everybody who's wounded to the medical bay. I need to get to the bridge."

He scuttled on. Up ahead, he heard more LRPK fire, with kinetic laser fire in return. Mag ran to the room where the combat droids were being kept, and entered the activation code. The door shot open, and Mag's fifteen combat droids ran out to the battle.

The battle droids were each 1.75 meters tall. They had a pair of long legs, taking up most of their height, and the "head," containing the sensors, power cell, and computation center on top, with a concussive pellet gun mounted on either side. They were designed to run fast and dodge well, and turn their "heads" to fire at any hostiles. Mag scuttled after them as they ran off to the battle, although he arrived several seconds after they did because he couldn't keep up.

The sixteen Salrillians that had blasted their way through the airlock, wearing combat suits, were firing at a group of cornered Bazidaneze in a gear storage room when the combat droids arrived. The first droid on the scene fired a single concussive pellet before turning and running to the side. It hit one of the Salrillians, and the small explosion it caused upon impact was enough to kill the Salrillian. The others turned and began firing at the combat droids as they all managed to get into the room. Mag managed to slip out of the room and head for the bridge, hearing sounds of battle behind him.

Several minutes later, he arrived on the bridge.

"Helm, get us out of here."

"Aye, sir! Hang on!"

Mag was thrown down the long corridor connecting to the bridge as the ship rocketed off. Mag quickly ran up to the bridge again, and sat down in the captain's seat.

"What damages have we taken?" Mag asked the ship status officer.

"One missing airlock, some cargo destroyed, several crew member casualties, and wall damage from stray fire in gunfights."

"How many Salrillians are on board?"

"At least twenty, probably more due to stealth shields."

"How are the combat droids doing?"

"We've only had one loss, and they're doing well at clearing out the ship."

"Finally some good news."

"I've got some bad news, Captain..." said the sensors officer.

"Oh?"

"We've got a couple incoming cruisers."

------------------
"Why do we have to mow our lawns? What's wrong with the 'natural' look?!?"
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Mag's ship lurched to the side, dodging the LRPK volley.
"Captain! Naval base on Luna is launching 3 gunships, and there's some sort of incoming via a jumpgate..."

Suddenly, 3 Cantharan gunships appeared - broadcasting AZK signals. The cruisers stealthed, but had to dodge some fire. Mag's ship was ignored - the pirate gunships went after the Salrilian ones. The Salrilian gunships stealthed and tried to use their superior range, but the pirate ones entered superlight, and dropped out literally centimeters from the enemies' rears, firing like mad. They then engaged their thrusters and began to slowly circle, fireing their antimatter pulses while the Salrilians tried desperatly to get beads on them, or break away.

BOOM
BOOM
BOOM

A Salrilian carrier launched as well. The gunships ignored the fighters, and poured antimatter into the target while dodging disconcerting portions of the fire.

BANG

Then the fighters went up, as they were hit by the antimatter spread. The pirates made for Mag. Antimatter pulse after antimatter pulse streaked past his ship - coming closer all the time. He couldn't return fire, he could only dodge for now. Finally, they depleted their ammo.

The three pirate gunships promptly entered a swirling jumpstream that appeared for them, and dissapeared.

Mag's logic buffer filled with swear word searches - in all the excitment,

(f***)
...the cruisers following him had been ignored, and were still alive.

_There was an air of nervousness among the marines in the cramped locker in the assault transport. It was a plain windowless, low, rectangular room, with circular benches on the sides, a thin alley between the benches. The Gaitori were all curled up nice and tightly, as the benches were designed for the natural rest position. The best I could manage was to perch on the side awkwardly, as my heels scraped on the floor from the swaying of the ship.

The hull echoed and in some places the wals grew warm and warped. The ship continued to sway and the best I could guess it was dodging the gunfire from the static turreted defenses on the feul station. I could guess we were getting close. The assault transport continued to rock in motion for what seemed as an eternity, taking the occasional minor hit that jolted the room. If anything, Gaitori ships were trusty old beaters, capable of taking advance repayment for the damage they would inflict.

The room began to depresurize and we all grabbed our Kabuto Combat helmets. The squad leader spoke up. "We have all been briefed. Remember, you must move quickly, and _fail not _to let gul'Smai out of your sight. Let's take it on!"

There was a brief rattling and the door exploded open, ejecting us and our support equipment into deep space. There was a brief moment of disorientation, then we grabbed the controls. "Get the laser drills!" one marine shouted over the channel. I glanced over to find all our equip. floating towards the station. flanked by a pair of Gaitori I jetted over to the spinning crate. I gripped the handles and aimed.

"Stay back, brothers!" I yelled. I pulled the trigger. A thick yellow beam shot out, the recoil sending me back in time to see the entire side of the station ripped open. The secondary inner hull's blast doors automatically began to close to seal the leak.

"Let's move!"

"Rodger!"

We shot for the closing hole like mew-rats with their tails on fire! Most of us made it before the doors slammed shut, but some were locked out, left in open space with no remaining feul or air cells, to die. Once inside, we activated our magnetic boots and split into two groups. Almost immediately the green klaxons sounded, growing louder and louder as air flowd into the chambers.

"Go! go!"

Gunfire began to echoe down the halls as we engaged the hated Obain.

"We've got heavy resistance in sector two!"

"You go on, y'Gg, I'll hold them bac- Unnngghh...."

I ran forward, blind to the sheer danger I was charging into, my twin rifles shooting a gale of death into the group of startled Obain security personell. I charged around the corner, leaping a summersault over the newely-created pile of bodies.

Another Obain moved to intercept. I gripped the wall with my foot and repelled just in time to avoid the shells from his pistol. I brought my gun to bear on him in midair. BLAM!

He collapsed, his torso seperated from the rest of his body. He lay there in a bloody mess, panting. "So..." he gasped at the air as his organs spilled out. "You're the one..."

His eyes defocused as he began slipping away. He didn't notice the hands I placed on either side of his neck. There was a loud snap, and his world went black.

- - - - -

Of the origional ten who had set off on the mission, four of us remained. We sat amongside each other in the assault transport, bragging about the number of kills we had each achieved. Five, three, seven. I told them mine.

Twenty-four.

They cheered for me, giving me a hearty (and extremely painfull) slap where my gills would have been had I been Gaitori. A slap on the gills was their version of a pat on the shoulder. I sort of doubled over, holding my stomach. They grinned.

"Here's the celebration." The ship's pilot had entered, crouching to avoid hitting her head on the ceiling. "Join us for the celebration." I was the only one who could fit in the cockpit with the pilot, but then again it was _my _celebration. The feuling station was in the window, a little to the left. I was handed a charge pad. "You have he honor."

I pressed the main detonation key. My face was lit up as four thermonuclear devices, combined with years of unignited feul, simultaneously detonated. I smiled in glee as I saw the shockwave ripple past, finishing off the crippled hulks of the obain defense patrol.

It was then I truly knew I was one of them._

------------------
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.

A tiny little junker of a ship flew in towards an orbiting station. An unremarkable ship with an unremarkable crew entered an unremarkable docking bay. They exited the ship in a tired fashion seen so often on crews of salvagers. They went to a well populated bar, and ordered popular drinks. Totally unnoticed, they went about their business. A pair of them, an man and a woman, left after not too long, headed to quarters that rented to provide roomier combinations than the tiny salvage ship. Two of the others stayed at the bar, nursing their drinks for a while longer. Presently, one of them took a message cylinder from his tunic. Walking over to one of the booths, he sat down next to a patron of the bar. They talked for a moment, and then the man stood and went back to the bar to finish his drink. The man in the booth put the message cylinder in a safe place, precious cargo.

<><><><><>

William Darkk looked at the small message cylinder.
"This was checked for explosives?"

"I checked it myself Will. It's safe, whatever it is." replied Sarah. "Norry brought it in when he came back from Ri'Sh'nor mining station. Said that the man who gave it to him said it was more important that he get it to you than anything."

Darkk turned the cylinder over and over in his had. Curiousity got the better of him, and he cracked the seal. A message stick slid out, with a strange device on the end. It looked like a device for reading DNA. Darkk allowed it to scan him. The device detached itself from the message stick. Darkk the slid the stick into a reader.

The face of Jackson Spann appeared.

"William, I know that you are reading this, as that device would have destroyed the message without your unique signature. Now, make sure that you pay attention, this will only play once..."

Darkk stared in disbelief at seeing his dead friend's face again, and then listened intently to the message. When it was finished, he turned to Sarah. "Prep the Outrun. We want to get there fast."

Sarah nodded and strode out of the room. Darkk began making preparations for his little trip.

(Darkk, if you want to write the meeting between you and Spann, that's fine, just pick a good remote place for it. I'm still supposed to be dead, remember? ;))

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

"This is taking forever. Just give the punk his bribe so we can get the hell out of here."

The Captain slipped a fat roll of money to his first officer and walked out of the room, leaving him alone with the Phylidion customs agent. He was young, and was poking his way through ten thousand tons of cargo with a flashlight and a handheld scanner. The first officer walked up to him, put his hand on his shoulder and said calmly in his best Phyldian:

"Here, I just found a new cargo transcript. It verifies everything, you don't want to go through all of this."

He smiled, handing the officer ten thousand Phylidian credits. The Phylidion's façade of self control dropped for a moment as he realised he was holding six months wages. He looked from the money to the merchant, then back at the money, smiling.

----------

Ten minutes later, the four heavy freighters were released from the docking ring, and began thrusting towards a jumpgate that lead to Dominus, and riches galore.

Suddenly, a jumpstream tore open in front of them, dropping a dozen Cantharaan ships right on top of the freighters. They didn't have time to react before the gunships opened up, tearing the unarmored ships to pieces. Already, there were Phylidion ships scrambling from the station, fighters mostly, speeding towards the pirates.

The Cantharaans superlighted to the bunker station and started firing upon it, looseing plasma and leaping back to superlight. It wasn't long before the station's power began failing. The heavier Phylidion cruisers and gunships finally crash started their reactors and launched, preparing to engage the pirates.

Skilled pilots though they were, the Phylidions fell victim to the rapid, aggressive tactics of the pirates. As the last Kiojea was vented to space, the Cantharaans fired a few more volleys at the disabled station before fleeing back into their jumpstream.

----------

"Ok, you two clear this place out. Scan everything. I want this office turned inside out. You two, go find his archives and move them back to the ship before the Prophets do. You go back to the Mariposa and talk to Spann's officers, and you guard that door. Keep the damn Slugs away from my evidence."

Wizr stood calmly in the center of Jackson Spann's office in the capitol building on Earth, watching some of the best forensics experts in the galaxy comb over every inch of the room. The same was happening at Spann's home, and in his quarters on his flagship.

Wizr had gotten lucky. He had actually pushed a group of Salrillian intelligence officers out of his way to get into the office, thankfully before they had touched anything. He was glad he had brought his full entourage with him to Sol. He would figure out why the Salrillians killed his friend, and he would make them pay dearly for it. He would get Earth back and rebuild the ravaged, wrecked homeworld of humanity only to spite the Salrillians who thought they could cross the Protectorate and feel no consequence.

He was halfway through his museings about doling out comeuppance to the Salrillians when his PDA ponged. He opened it and read the news, a new wave of anger flowing over him.

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

David and Darkk sat in a cozy room complete with fireplace on the tremendous Zander X-1 Heavy Starliner-SS. Barbarrossa. A relic from the days before superlight, once upon a time it had ran a long route around the colonies, to Earth and back. Ferrying goods to the new worlds at ž the speed of light. Using the Stars to slingshot, and tugs to load the massive freight containers onto its spine, the Barbarrossa never wasted fuel to slow down. Instead, it ran its route endlessly, visiting the colonies, picking up produce and dropping off goods, then continueing on through the blackness of space for years at a stretch.

It was a massive ship. From nose to nozzles it was over 25 miles long. On one end was the engine module, a massive collection of fusion plants that generated the thrust needed to move several hundred trillion tons of ship and cargo, at the other, a massive set of crew quarters. Two miles wide, a mile long and a half a mile tall, the crew quarters were tremendous and lavish. Designed for travel in an age without hyperspace, it was more than simply a freighter, but also a Starliner for moving people across the colonies. The passengers would call the ship home for years between their destinations, and the living quarters reflected this focus on comfort. Interestingly, these quarters would not be used for the crew. The Zander Freighter launched from Earth with no crew whatsoever. ACK, a near-sentient Artificial Intelligence was placed in charge of the ship, and that he did. For seventy five years, the Barbarrossa circled the colonies, and never once did it miss a delivery. That is, until the Cantharaans came, and ACK, seeing the danger, used all his remaining fuel to stop his ship, happier to waste away in the depths of space than to be captured by the Cantharaans.

And that is how David Bowman discovered his ship, adrift in deep space. Upon awakening ACK, he payed for the ship to be pulled to Elejeetian Space, where he sold all two hundred and ten trillion tons of cargo, refueled his ship, and left to roam the galaxy, exploring, and ramscooping fuel from nebulas when he needed it. He was just finishing explaining this to his old friend and Commander William Darkk, when ACK spoke in his monotone.

"Dave, I think I have found something worthy of your attention. If you will look at the screen, I will display it for you and your guest."

"Well, sure, ACK, go right ahead, what is it?"

The wood paneling on the wall opened, revealing a large screen, upon which were a series of images-obviously constructed from long-range sensor data, of several Cantharaan ships destroying a Phylidion border station.

"When did this happen?" Darkk looked suddenly alert.

"Three hours and seventeen minutes ago, sir."

"Dave, come with me. We're taking the Outrun to investigate."

"If you insist, boss."

Dave looked slightly hesitant. He had been enjoying his drink and his meal by the fire.

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

"Find out who the hell they were and stop them. Try and get the Phylidions in this with you. I won't have my merchants murdered by butchers in foreign space! Get in contact with the Phylidion Navy. In the mean time, try and dispatch some 915 ships to fly cover for our traders. There are more and more of these attacks, and I want those traders to be safe. Thanks Myrk. I'll call later. Goodbye."

Wizr dropped the line, and looked around at the disassembled office, then at the reports of the losses from his freight company. He shook his head. He still had to get a team prepped to find Spammo's ship, and he was tired.

He opened the door to a crowd of Humans and Salrillians, who were pushing against the guards that Wizr had put at the door. Good thing he had, they looked angry. He walked past them, wrapping his cloak around him so he wouldn't have to touch the slimy bodies.

"Exxsssssscuussse me, Treyisssssshhhhhhh, May I asssk what you are doing in the office of the Minissssster? You do not have Clearanssssee to do thisss."

the Salrillian, clearly an administrator or a messenger of the oracle had slid up quielty next to Wizr and had caught him off guard with his hissed remark. Wizr stopped walking, turned to him and said coldly, under his breath.

"I am doing a last favor to a friend. Do not try and stop me, Slug, for I am very upset right now, and you would not want to start something here that might make its way to Ishima and back. I am watching you. Do not forget that."

He held his finger against the Salrillian's belly, knowing full well that his salty skin oils were makeing the Slug very uncomfortable. He turned and walked back to his transport, his two Gaath bodyguards almost unnoticeable in the crowd.

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

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

(Hmm. I seem to be in two places at once. I guess we can say that Wizr's comes first, and I stopped by my base on my way to investigate.

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

(You got the message on Dave's ship. Just meet Spamo after you check out the wreckage)

Mark Pharris felt the grip of his rifle as he flexed his hands inside the thick gloves. ahead of him was his airlock. His responsability. His life. All that mattered now, was that he kill the first thing through his door and yell for help in his intercom. If he didn't then the Andalusa would be captured, and all would be lost.

The air was gone. He felt his suit ballon slightly as it stretched with the 15 PSI of lifegiving air that surrounded Pharris' body.

He flexed his hands and watched as the laser torches silently cut the door, sending sparks flying. He squezzed the handle, and fifeteen rounds per second sprayed out of his pulse rifle, spilling blue Cantharaan vital fluids through the vacuum.

"Contact! Airlock 4!"
He barked into his comlink as he flung a grenade into the gaping airlock door. A moment later, Alec was next to him, shooting too, beating back the Cantharaans. It was all they could do. The Andalusa was disabled, and these aliens were here to end his life, and his friend's life. He had to stop them.

Soon, more came, faster and faster, closer each time. Soon, he was covered with blood, a mist floating in the corridor. Panting, sweating, they came closer still. His weapon clicked. He fired off the underslung shotgun. Round after round. Long after Alec's scream had been stifled by the air being sucked from his suit, long after he had heard his friends and crewmembers wailing over the radio. He fought on, now with his bayonette, stabbing, cutting, killing, he had to live. He would survive, not even the Hunter/Killers would- He paused as if in a freeze frame. His heart standing still. The jaws of a hunter killer about to close on his face, and him helpless. He watched it, wanting to scream in terror, until suddenly he opened his eyes.

He screamed through the oxygen saturated liquid that filled his lungs.

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

Duh, I have a ship too! It's 100000000000000 miles long. It doesn't matter if Kilometers are the standard because I have my own personal empire with 10000000000000000 ships and they're all warships! I shoot enemies and they all die in one shot because my crono-halitostic-barbecue guns are infinitely powerful!
</sarcasm>

Guys this is stupid. Stop with these non-rpg posts and be fücking realistic

------------------
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.

Darkk stared in awe at the wreckage tumbling about him.
Cantharan ships did this...
He had never really respected their ships much, but now he realized that it was primarilly outmoded tactics that had enabled him to beat them consistently. The Phylydions were too slow for these pirates, who were using moves Darkk had never though any mere pirates (other than his own) capable of.

It had taken 4 months to get his men up to the standards needed to do this. These pirates came out of nowhere in no time and were ripping into just about everything. He studied the battle events again. Hmm, something... odd.

"ACK! Could you attach their reaction times to the images?"
"Certainly"

Darkk considered silently. He'd have to take these to Sarah, she was a whiz at smoothing data.

Time to meet Spamo.

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

Trader Outpost 16 had accuired a sinister reputation for back-room dealings. Most Bazidanese avoided the outpost like it harbored a plauge. Outrun docked onto it without any hesitation.

William and Sarah looked like completely different people when they stepped off. A little make up, some hair dye, and a few fake scars had turned them into hard-bitten mercenaries. They went past some deserted hallways to a rusted-over maintenance hatch. A quick check of sonar, infared, and ultraviolet verified that they weren't being followed. They walked through the abandoned access tunnel, careful to be silent.

At long last, they reached the disused battery room. Spamo was huddled in a corner.
"Who's there?"
"Hek Met and Sr'thnama"
The prearranged code words.

"So, glad you and your sister could both make it."
"Yeah. I had to swing by a Phylydion boarder system to check out some pirate attacks, but here I am."
"You've got some explaining to do, disappearing like that!" shouted Sarah.
"Well, I just couldn't stand it. All that hypocracy, knowing I had to sign away all sorts of things. After awhile, I couldn't take it."
"Great," muttered William, "Guess who they offered the job?"
"YOU?? I'd think they'd want to chop you up!"
"Well, I am the most visable human leader left. However, I wouldn't take the job even if I didn't have to do what they said. Political power, even the fake kind, makes my skin crawl."
"So who's going to be the new figurehead?"
"We're not sure yet. They've offered it to me," said Sarah "but I turned it down."
"I see..."

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

"I had thought something like that would happen. But the government was too fragmented to identify a certain successor, and I can't exactly go around appointing people." A wry grin passed Spamo's face.

Sarah spoke up "Still, you've caused a lot of trouble. You were the leader of everything that was left of humanity. Sounds like a cop out to me."

Spamo shook his head. "No, I wasn't a leader of anything. There's no hope for humanity from the inside, and all of us know that. If anything's going to save them, it'll come from the outside."

"Point. Still a stupid move on your part."

"Stupid Will? I couldn't have done any good in there. I'm no politician. I'm a captain, my place is aboard a starship, not in an office. Those are where my skills lie." Spamo paused for a moment, then reached into his tattered cloak. "Here, this is the name of who can take my place. He's best suited for the current situation, and I've trust in him."

"Hm. And you want me to appoint him as leader or something?"

"I don't know, you'll have to think of something." snapped Spamo. "There are more reasons why I did this. I'm going to the Phylydians, and asking them for help."

Sarah and William both stared at Spamo with incredulity.
"You've got to be kidding. What makes you think they'll be helpful, even if they don't kill you right off!?"

"Think. The Ishimans won't help now. Our friend can only pull so many strings. The Bazidanese and Elejee won't help, they want neutrality now. Everyone else is indifferent, hostile or preoccupied. Except the Phylydians. They're new, strong. I have to try."

"This is madness. You've gone insane!"

"Have I Will? Am I insane like Jerry was? Would I slaughter innocent thousands to achieve my goals? I'm tired of the fighting. Tired of the killing, the running and hiding, tired of the politics, just so damn tired. I want so much to retire, lay down somewhere warm. Meet a woman, have a family. But none of that will happen the way things are now." Spamo chuckled slightly. "I should meet with Wizr. He can get me the resources I need without blowing my cover." Spamo reached once again into his cloak and fished out a datapad. "Get this to Wizr. He'll understand the instructions. I'm sorry, I haven't given you a chance to speak much. I get to rambling when I'm tired."

Darkk saw the lines on Spamo's face. Maybe the stress was getting to him.

Spamo grasped Darkk's shoulder. "I can pull this off. In a few weeks, with a little luck, we should be well on the way to restoring humanity."

------------------
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 04-05-2001).)

"gul'Smai has been doing well."

"I'm aware of that, but he seems to be getting more and more integrated into our culture."

"What if he discovers the truth?"

"Pray to the gods he doesn't."

------------------
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? What have you found?"

The engineer dropped four twisted shards of metal onto Wizr's desk.

"Explosive bolts. They usually hold the escape pod in place. These have been detonated."

Wizr stared at the bolts, smiling.

"Do the Profits know about this yet?"

"No, we were the first to examine the wreckage-"

"Keep it that way. Hurry."

"Yes sir."

The Engineer grabbed the bolts, turned and was just on his way out as Wizr said "Good work"

-----------

Dave was sitting on a pile of crates that had been left in the docking ring. His heavy coat and hat covered him well enough that nobody would notice he wasn't just a passed out drunk.

His eyes followed the Cantharaan up the hall to the airlock door in front of the Outrun. The alien opened the door, and walked down the docking collar to the Cantharaan schooner. He opened the door to the ship, and stepped inside as the handle of Dave's Pistol came down on his skull. As he crumpled to the floor, Dave closed the door and pulled out his flex cuffs.

Five minutes later, David was wandering through the station, looking for Will and his Sister. The Cantharaan was tightly bound with the flex cuffs, and was stuffed into a storage locker a few sizes too small for him. Darrk hadn't told him who he was meeting, but he had told him where to find him if there was trouble, and the gang of pirates with various weapons waiting in the docking ring near the Outrun was suspicious enough to suggest that he expedite whatever deal Darkk was working on.

He walked down the long corridor very quietly, listening to mumbling voices getting louder and louder. Dave moved slowly for two reasons, one to make sure he was walking in on Darkk, and two because he saw a shadow crouching in the corridor. As he closed in, he saw it was a small Gaitori, huddled, listening intently. Dave grabbed it hard, hauling it up and searching it for weapons. As it squealed, he heard the talk in the other room stop. He tossed the Gaitori ahead of him out into the battery compartment.

"Darkk, we have company."

The three figures watched him duck into the room, reaching under his coat for the dissasembled parts of his fletchette rifle.

"Somebody was checking out your ship, and there were another ten punks around the corner, waiting for him. I flex cuffed him, but his buddies are still there. Then I found this guy in the corridor listening to you. By now, I think the gang has figured out what happened and they'll be on top of us."

He slapped in a magazine and leaned an eye across the doorway to look down the corridor, then looked back at the three others.

"Get your guns. Now."

Darkk already had his Plasma rifle out, Sarah hated guns, and the third figure had nothing. Dave took his sidearm, a pistol-sized sub-machine gun, and tossed it to him. As he did, he saw the man's face. He was surprised for a moment.

"You're dead..."

"I assure you, I am very much alive, and I hope to be for a little longer, but we'll see."
Jackson Spann cocked the gun, smiling broadly.

Dave looked down the corridor, he could hear the foot steps coming.

"Stay to the side of the door. Sarah, take these. When I say, pull the pin, toss one and hit the red button."

He slid his helmet over his head, and leaned one eye into the door frame, so monitor their advance. Silently, he pushed a 60mm Grenade into the underslung launcher, pointed the nose of it into the doorway and fired off the round.

He could see the glowing, stubby round bounce off one side of the corridor and land just ahead of the advancing group. He heard curses, pulled his IR visor over his eyes, and started firing short bursts down the corridor as he reached into his web gear for another grenade round.

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

"Have you finished patching up the ventalation systems?" The Engineer said as he heard my footsteps behind him.

I stopped, confused. "Are you talking to me?" I asked him.

He turned to me and his face went blank (their faces usually do when they think). "Oops, I'm sorry. Wrong human."

"What?! You mean there's another human around here?"

"Hey whaddo I know, there could be hundreds of you scum in this city. You are scattered throughout the galaxy you kno-"

"I thought I was the last one!"

"Erm, oh dear you're gul'Smai aren't you?" He squealed in fear. "I-I-I'll be going now... job's all done... see?" He faked a friendly grin and left, locking the cell door behind him.

I was left alone in the room, pondering. They lied. My masters, my friends, the only one I thought I could trust.... they.... decieved me.....

- - - - -

The Gaitori engineer galloped up to Commander gy'Tall. "It's gul'Smai! He knows!" He spluttered, out of breath.

gy'Tall flutted his gills in disapproval. "Know's what?"

"He.. he isn't alone."

gy'Tall twitched in fear. "Very well. It's unfortunate he learned... he had such potential." He opened a channel to the regional guard commander. "It's gul'Smai.... he's become a threat. I need you to take a few marines into that vault and... dispose of the human."

gy'Tall huffed in pity. Poor little human. None of this was his fault, yet he was now a threat to Gaitor. He had to be terminated.

------------------
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 squeezed off another burst, then spun out of the door, dropping his empty magazine on the floor.

"Cover. Frag out!"

Sarah pulled the pin, then rolled the grenade out the door. She squeezed the red button on the pin, and the grenade exploded. Spann and Will fired off rounds behind it. The submachinegun emptied quickly, and two Plasma blasts followed. Just as they got back to cover, another wave of fire spat through the door, across the room, and into the batteries. The energy bolts broke up and fizzled on the metal, but the projectiles added to the large number of holes. The hissing grew louder.

"Will, that's hydrogen, right?"

Darkk looked at the lead-acid cells.

"Should be."

Dave threw new magazine to Spann, then looked at Darkk.

"Then stop shooting that plasma rifle."

Darkk nodded.

"Listen, the punks are hiding in the transistor room halfway down that corridor. If we keep shooting, they won't move up, but if we stay here, the hydrogen will blow us to smithereens. You two find another door, Spann and I are covering this one. Gimme those frags. Move!"

Sarah slid him the grenades, and Dave went back to ducking and shooting through the door, interspersing a frag or a 60 mm round between bursts while the two Darkks checked for another exit to the large battery room.

He leaned out into the door, exposing only a part of his head and his shooting arm. He waited until someone pointed their head out, then shot of a burst of rounds. Just as he did, another pirate of some indiscernible race leaned out. As he lined up his gun, Dave saw the muzzle flash. He had even started to move out of the way when he heard the snap, and felt somebody hit his arm with a baseball bat. He dropped his pulse rifle as the force of the hit knocked him across the doorway. A photokinetic bolt knocked him to the ground as the polymers in his heavy coat absorbed the energy from the blast.

He pushed his back up against the wall on the side of the door, gasping, clutching his right upper arm, screaming "I'm hit!"

With his free hand, he rolled a grenade down the hall and set it off. His right arm didn't work, and Spann was too busy suppressing them with the submachine gun to help. He tried to shrug the heavy coat off, to see how bad it was, but the pain stopped him. Spann finally found a break in the fire to grab his pulse gun and look at him, speaking between bursts.

"How bad is it?"

"No ****ing clue. Get the morphine packs from my right coat pocket. Now."

Spann held the gun in one hand, shooting while he reached down with his other to retrieve the pouch. He tossed it in Dave's lap and went back to firing. Dave opened it with his good arm and pulled out a dose. It had a long, spring loaded needle. He pushed it against his pant leg and hit the button. The needle retracted and he tossed it. He dosed himself once more before be could shrug the coat off and see the spurting arterial blood. He pulled a large sheet of comex from the kit and started cramming the super-absorbent gauze into the wound until the bleeding slowed. He pushed a splint against his arm and wrapped the whole mess in a field dressing, took the submachine gun that Spann had dropped, and resumed shooting. He was surprised at how well the morphine was working.

Will and Sarah finally came back. They had found a ladder leading up to another battery room. The others provided covering fire while Dave set his anti-personnel on trip mode. He pushed the toggle, and the entire group ran to the ladder. As they scrambled up, the layer of plastic explosives ignited, sending the hundreds of metal balls imbedded in it flying down the corridor into their pursuers.

------------------
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 sat there on the crate, deep in thought pondering my next move. It had been several days since the Gaitori Engineer had accidentally shone the light on the truth. I hadn't been sent on another mission as promised, I hadn't even made contact with another living being since then. Usually it wouldn't bother me, as I had spent the greater part of 9 years completely alone.

But something was wrong. I could feel it. I had to be very carefu_-

The heavy blast door to my quarters flew open and a rain of bullets showered in my direction. With military reflexes, I summersaulted to the left. The gunfire followed. Four Gaitori Marine squads were outside somewhere, I could taste their anticipation for the kill. Eight of them crawled in, expecting to see my dead body.

Instead they saw the bullet-riddled crates where I had been perched. "You two, take the left, you two flank right, the rest of you follow me." They moved with such cautious slowness, to be sure no to miss me. They managed to anyways.

I dropped from the ceiling like a meteor, landing on the group leader and cracking open all his spine-plates. He gave out a shriek of agony then collapsed. The others turned to fire on me, only to meet the hard end of my show. Two more fell to the ground, shattered faceplates, leaking their green copper-based blood. I picked up their fallen weapons and ducked behind a barrel. I fired, three more Gaitori fell, massive holes left in their bleeding gills.

"Backup! We need backup!" Another one retreated behind another cluster of boxes literally sobbing into her comm unit. Pity, she must have been a young one. I jumped over the boxes and dived onto the hapless female, guns blazing.

------------------
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 slammed his bayonet into the door jamb, prying it open a half an inch. He shoved the charge into the space and set it off, ripping the door wide open. He ducked into the room just as PK beam fire arced down the hallway. The woman sitting on the bed fired the pistol into Dave Bowman's chest. He was thrown back against the wall, gasping for air. He looked at the woman on bed.

She walked closer to his body slumped against the wall. She leaned in to see if he was still alive, and as she did, he lashed out, knocking the gun from her hand. He jumped up, taking his gun with him, getting between her and the door.

"Liz, right?"

She nodded.

"Spamo sent me. Don't ask questions just follow me!"

Already shocked by the laser bolts that were flying through the hall, she followed, covering her ears as he ducked back into the hallway firing his pulse gun. They ran from the rooms down through the bar to the docking ring, where Darkk and Spann had boarded Outrun.

They ran to the docking gate, only to see Outrun detach from the station ring, leaving a dozen angry pirates in the docking collar. Dave dragged Liz away, pushing his earpiece in, and turning on his radio.

"--ere the hell are you? Bowman! report!"

"She's here. I'm in the ring, but there are still pissed off guys all over. I'm going to try and find another way out."

"Call us when you know where. hurry."

"You don't need to tell me that, skipper."

He dragged her around the docking ring, looking for an unoccupied docking collar for Outrun to touch and go on. They were all full.

He picked a small shuttle, and disengaged the clamps holding it to the station. As it drifted clear, he called Darkk.

"Docking collar four. Quick!"

"Got it."

Outrun lined itself up with the collar, but the pressure seal was torn, and it wasn't forming a seal. Dave could see Will sitting in the cockpit of the schooner, listening to his audio-feedback system.

His voice came over the intercom.

"Dave, I can't seal, the door. Find another airlock."

"No can do, skip, I'm not going out there to get shot again. Open your door and hold still."

"Dave... that's a really bad idea, espescially with the girl."

"Shut up and open the door Darkk. They'll be launching to get you any second."

Through the port, Dave watched the airlock on Outrun open and line up with his. Dark pressed it as close to the jagged metal seal as he dared before saying "Ready".

"Ok, Liz. When I say so, I want you to close your eyes and take three or four deep breaths, then exhale as hard as you can. Keep your mouth open, and your hands over your ears."

She looked very pale as he twisted the dump valve halfway. The air started hissing out. He had to yell to be heard.

"Breathe... breathe... breathe... ok, exhale. HARD!!"

With 3 PSI still in the chamber, he blew the door. Holding onto Liz, he pushed off the wall, towards the airlock, 5 feet away. With his hands full, he couldn't even try to dampen the blow to his ears. His left cleared, but he felt his right eardrum burst. He opened his eyes to check his progress, then shut them hard against the stinging cold as he banged his head against the inside of the airlock. The door clicked shut, and immidiately, the air rushed in, quickly up to 3 PSI, then slowly up to 15. He slumped down, panting, blood trickling from his ear, his eyes burning and his chest aching as though he'd had the wind knocked out of him. The inner door opened, and Spann ran in to see Liz, and Sarah dragged him into the cabin and lay him on a bed.

She rolled him out of his coat and body armor and pushed some gauze into his bleeding ear. She hung up the energy-protective coat, noticeing the scorchmarks and bullet holes all over, along with the smoking rounds imbedded in the chest plate of the kinetic body armor. She then went back to see how badly he was doing. Besides the hit in the arm, Dave had taken another shot through the thinner armor on the side of his abdomen and one in his upper thigh. Thankfully, they had missed major arteries, and Dave had already taken so much morphine that not even his shattered humerus bothered him. As he passed out on the bed, she pulled out the medical kit and started dressing the wounds.

In the front of the ship, Darkk raced Outrun through the jumpgate, clearing it's log behind him as he made his way back to the Barbarrossa. He couldn't help but notice that the pirates that chased him were flying Cantharaan ships.

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

Must practice HARDER...

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The cargo fleet hung in space, heading for the jumpgate a great distance away. They were carrying a great deal of high tech equipment, manufactured by the Protecorate Electronics Combine. Around them hung several carriers and their escorts, as well as one 915 carrier and it's escorts - more than a match for any mere pirates.

The Lyconian Trade Consortium had had to go through a lot of trouble to get this escort (as well as a lot of money), but it was worth it. Cantharan pirates had been attacking all sorts of ships, and had frustrated all sorts of escorts. No chances were being taken.

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The AZK raiders came up behind them in the superlight-direct-to-six move that the 915 crews had expected. The interesting feature was that they didn't seem to care that the 915 cruisers were cloaked, and targeted and attacked them like any other ship. They slapped their boosters, and came around and began to tangle with the AZK group at 14-19 times the speed of light.

It was a spectacular fight - ships shooting out of superlight briefly to fire at each other. After awhile, they stopped trying to superlight into postion and dogfighted normally. Scissors manuvers commenced, as they jockeyed for position. All sorts of manuvers, from simple to complex to made-up-on-the-spot were used. Ships darted everywhich way, pk beams, onas pulses, antimatter pulses, lepton beams, and myriad other shots.

The 915 cruisers were doing a good job on the Cantharan ones, which weren't nearly fast enough to compete, as had the normal Ish cruisers. The Ish gunships had picked off most of the Cantharan fighters, but the Cantharan gunships had done some serious damage to the Ish carriers. The Ish carriers had been put out of comission by the gunships, but the Cantharan carriers had gotten a great deal of the lighter Ish ships.

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"Will, get the f*** up here!!!" shouted Spamo.
William wondered what would make his normally calm friend shout profanities.
Then he saw the fight. The AZK and the 915 were fighting so well it almost made Darkk feel jealous. And they were between him and the jumpgate to Dave's ship. Time for some fun...

Outrun pealed through the furball like hot lightning, sliding between the pk blasters on the gunships, dodging the antimatter pulses, skimming against the missles fired at him, dodging the Onas shots from mistaken Ish pilots, and in general Darkk was having a blast.

He shot between the 2 attacking carriers, laughing in satasfaction as they hit each other with their clustercells. A lone HVC tried to superlight onto his tail, but he jinxed its initial bursts and it couldn't keep up for long at sublight.

Darkk had made it to the gate, and the battle was still raging. Dave could deliver Spamo, and Darkk would be able to think some more about these pirates. Sarah had gotten to know Dave, and she and William had convinced Spamo to trust him.

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

The battle was a close one. The remaining 915 cruisers onas pulsed the Cantharan carriers from the sky, and the cruisers fell in short order. The HVCs and gunships proved more tenacious, and the Ish didn't outnumber them by very much. Fortunatly, most of the remaining Ish ships were 915 ships, as the pirates had improved and were fighting much better. Ships exploded into fireballs in every direction as bright streaks of antimatter, photokinetic energy, onas particles, and leptons flew in every direction. Eventually, a 915 battleship arrived, and the fight was ended in short order with a flurry of Onas and Lepton turret fire.

The transport captains were noticably shaken as they entered the reassuring green tunnel of the jumpgate, and the naval pilots had many comrades to mourn.

So much learned...