Spamo stepped off the Barbarrossa and onto the unloading zone of the main orbital station around Dominus. Liz and Dave came down the ramp beside him. Various pieces of cargo were being offloaded the Barbarrossa as Spamo walked into the station. He glanced at his palmtop for the directions to his contact.

Spann walked up to a man sitting on a bench. He sat down next to the man, pulled out a magazine and opened to page 13. He turned to the man and spoke.

"Pardon me, would you happen to have Ishiman Home Report from 14 days ago?"

"Sorry, I only have the Cantharan Stock Exchange today."

"Then I would talk with Sarfi Altemena about that."

"If you say so Jack. But I'm sure you have more important things to do."
The man grinned and shook Spamo's hand. "Right on time. Come with me."

Spamo rose and followed his contact into the station towards the shuttle bays. Liz and Dave followed behind. They all boarded a small craft, and decended down towards Dominus. An hour later, they were relaxing in a penthouse nearby the Ishiman embassy building on Dominus. Wizr's people had set up a good working base here on Dominus.

"Mr. Spann, we've prepared an appointment with the Phylydian leader. All the information is here." the aid handed Spamo a data chip for his palmtop. Spamo slipped it into the slot and began to read.

"What's the plan Jack?" asked Liz, later in the evening.

"I'll be meeting with a Drion Nerec tomorrow." replid Spamo. "Hopefully I can get what I want."

"Oh, and the great Admiral Spann always gets what he wants now does he?" replied Liz with a grin.

"Damn straight. And right now, this Admiral has a little surprise." Spamo reached behind the couch he was sitting in and brought up a bottle of champagne and two glasses. He popped it open and poured the glasses.

"A toast, Liz, to success tomorrow."

"To success."

Liz sipped the champagne, then stood up. Walking over to the door, she locked it with a deft motion. Turning around, she grinned at Spamo. "Happy birthday Jack." she said with a wink.

It took a few seconds for Spamo to realize that it wasn't really his birthday. But by that time, he had other things on his hands.

<><><><><>

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

I ducked behind one of the energy pillars as the repair engineers slipped and slid down the hall. The sound of slithering grew distant. Coast clear. I made for the observation decks, my destination in mind.

It was a crazy plan, but it was the only one I had. The Salrilians always hestitate to annihilate that which is unlearned. They could bring themselves to destroy me, I hope they won't destroy my destination.

I darted down the long tube and finally reached the low-cut wall studded with windows. I looked out into deep space, awed at the view. There was Earth, a sparkling blue and white jewel hanging like an earring from the ear lobe of space. Several other simlabs and battlestations clustered together around, each tethered to each other by engineering and cargo tubes, forming an isocohedran frame around the massive starship the Salrilians were studying.

It would take decades for that massive hulk to be dissected and studied, analyzed and fed ito the Oracular Net. So valued by the Salrilian Archeologists, that it was protected byt a full ring of battlestations, guarded by a whole fleet of their deadly black warships. Nothing could get past the Salrilian guard, protecting the precious find like a mother would a child. So precious as the Salrilians would rather lose it than have it destroyed.

Perfect for me to hijack.

I gave a low whistle as I marveled at the size of the ship. Nearly a kilometer long, beautifully and lovingly crafted by an ancient and lost civilization. It's blue-tinted grey hull sparkled as the stars bounced off of it. The U.N.S. Ares.

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

No more stowing away, no more running. I would steal the titanic vessel and not turn back, and there would be nothing the Salrilians could do about it.

I dodged another patrol of guards as they slithered by with their blades, sharpening their teeth while chatting. " They say a heuman was aboard that shuttle when it blew."
"I guess that's one less of the vermin we have to worry about then."
"I'm not so sure. The Admiral lost her pet again."
"The Test Subject?"
"Yes. He was tracked to Earth, but we've searched the planet. He's nowhere to be found."
"I take it she sent her home fleets to search?"
"Yes. They're scouring the cosmos.... but if he were to return with her fleets out, the consequences would be disasterous."
"Does he know the truth about himself?"
"No. Thank Doz he doesn't."
"If he were to harness his power like the sentinal on Gaitor did...."

The talk trailed off as they headed farther and farther down the tube. I made a break for the hive airlocks. I waded through the air-proof gel barriers and into the cargo bay. It was enormous and black. Past all the crates, all the barrels and containers and equipment, was the cargo chute. I walked up to it, feeling it's rim with my fingers. I peered down the immeasurable deep hole into the blackness. The circular chute was barely wide enough to accomodate me as I wriggled into it, holding myself up with my hands. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and let go.

I plummeted down the tuboid chute faster and faster! I looked around in a panic, but could only see darkness. Futher and further I plummeted from the station, spiraling through deep space. I finally saw a light at the end. There was an enormous flash, and I crashed into something at the other end.

--------

I must have been unconscious for hours. I sat up, rubbing my head and staring down at the pink mush by my boots. Obviously I had caught the night-shift guard off guard and driven him several feet into the steel wall, now with a huge dent. I stood up on the carpet, and I didn't have to duck hen I did so as the cieling was just my height. I gazed around at the ghost ship around me in wonder. There was the uniform rack, where heavy EVA space suits hung in a rack, the NASA symbol printed on every one of them. In the corner a pile of UNS helmets, their visors cracked and their shells worn. There was a ring around me lined with computer terminals and screens, each one with a chair bolted to the floor, equipped with padding and seatbelts. I realized I must be in the command dome.

Making for the navigation controls, I took the time to look over the ship status.

Hull at 99%
Static Defenses at 104%
Drives at 138%
Core material at 50%
Core is offline.

Boy, this ship musta been through a couple of wars. The Ares must have been an early battleship, though it was now absolutely obsolete. It had crossed the spiral arm twice on it's journeys, but had a star map that was as advanced as the Salrilians. It must have met some friendlies at one point, as it had been heavily modified and upgraded. The history banks rated the ship as nearly two hundred years old. I only hoped she'd survive the next few hours.

There was some light security, a few encryption routines, nothing special guarding the navigation banks that prevented me from cracking in. I accessed an autotarget program.

**Current position is 55,67,1.
Current positionary status: Stable orbit over planet: Earth
Warning! Unauthorized docking detected!
Warning! Unable to locate Earth Network!

Reconnecting through other servers listed:
NASA Headquarters 134.56.923.8 ..............................Connection Attemps Failed
UNS Headquarters 557.891.376.22..............................Connection Attempt Failed
UESC Regional HQ 74.665.234.98 ..............................Connection Attempt Failed

Searching for unlisted Earth Network Servers.................One Match Found

Listing......

1- Salrilian Oracular Network Node 94596 ....................Connected

ERROR! Invalid Data Format! Connection Closed.

Tracing Server..... Stellar Coordinates: 3:11:4

Matching to Stellar Maps: System found: Salril

Automatic Course set to: System: Salril: Fleet of the Prophets Carrier S.N.S. Burning Glory

Program created by William Darkk.**

The Ares creaked and rumbled as it's fusion drives slowly came back to life. It began to turn, snapping all of it's tethers and docking links. By the time the alert sirens had gone off all over the Salrilian Stations, the U.N.S. Ares had disappeared from orbit, slipping into the abyss of Lightspeed.

------------------
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 loud buzzing noise awoke Spamo. Glancing at the digital clock next to his bed, he saw that he had better get his arse moving or he'd be late. He rose quietly as to not disturb the other sleeping persons in his bed. Minutes later, he strode out of the door and down the hall to his makeshift office. The Ishiman on duty greeted him. A transport would take him to the Imperial center, where he would meet with the Minister under the guise of an Ishiman delegate. Being that the Ishimans employ many different races, no one will think it odd that a non-Ishiman would be meeting on their behalf. From there, it was all up to Spamo.

The transport sped towards the Imperial compound.

Inside, Spamo was bussed about by the Phylydian functionaries. Dave and Liz would be arriving shortly according to the message he recieved on his Palmtop. They would arrive on time for the meeting. A few minutes later, Spamo relaxed as much as he could in a waiting room. Dave and Liz entered only 10 minutes from the time.

"Nothing like cutting it to the wire, eh Jack?" laughed Dave.

Spamo cocked an eyebrow. "I hope you didn't run over anyone on the way here. Do you have the information with you?"

"Right here Jack." said Liz as she shuffled through a thin folder of papers. She handed them to Spamo just as a tall Phylydian entered the room.

"The Minister will see you now." said the Phylydian as he motioned through the door. Spamo , Dave and Liz all walked through the door and took seats in front of a large desk. The Minister rose to greet them.

"Good morning. Let's get right to business shall we? My aid did not give me your names." said the Minister briskly.

Spamo stood and extended his hand. "Of course. My name is Jackson Spann, late Minister of the UNS."

The Minister stopped cold for a moment. "I don't have time for jokes." he said. "Spann is dead. I am very busy, so get to your point or get out."

"I assure you, I am he. If you want proof, I can supply it. Dig up photos of me. They'll match."

The Minister eyed Spamo for a moment, then tapped some commands into his terminal. He glanced from the monitor and then to Spamo, and back to the monitor. He frowned, then hit the communication button on his desk.

"Neris, prepare the lab for a blood test. And prepare an appointment with the Supreme Ocititate."

Spamo smiled at reclined in his chair. The Minister sat across the desk, staring at Spamo in a look very close to that of seeing a ghost.

------------------
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 04-27-2001).)

(I will soon.)

"The Supreme Ociticate will see you now." chimed a voice in the empty room. A door slide open at one end, to admit those to see the Supreme Octicate. Spamo rose from the hard chair he had been sitting in and walked through the door and into a luxurious yet very functional office. Windows looked out over the city, offering a breathtaking view. The Supreme Octicate eyed Spamo as he entered the room and bowed.

The Supreme Octicate inclined his head. "An honor Minister Spann. I am graced with your presence here. My ministers have briefed me fully of your reasons for being here and the circumstances of your, disappearance. A novel approach to a problem. Please, have a seat."

Spamo sat down in one of the chairs before the Supreme Octicate's desk.
"Thank you greatly sir. It is a privilege to meet with you. However, if I may dispense with formalities, I would like to discuss the issues I bring before you."

"Of course Minister. Go ahead."

"As you have known, the UNS has fallen underneath the dominion of the Salrillian empire. After three long and very costly wars, humanity has fallen under control of hostile forces and lies without a real chance of gaining independence solely on its own. However, the arrival of the Phylydians as a power within the galaxy has opened a new door for humanity."

"You wish the Phylydian empire to fight it's battles for you?" said the Supreme Octicate.

"Of course not. I am merely asking for material aid, and support personnel to assist in a swift attack on Earth to liberate it from Salrillian hands. The rest of UNS space lies within the control of various races, ranging from Cantharans to Gaitori to Obish. Earth is the figurehead and key to our independence."

"What is the benefit for the Phylydian empire?"

"As I stand here now, I have little to offer. However, the trade opportunities offered by a stable and independent UNS far exceed those offered by Salrillians."

"Assuming that the UNS manages to gain independence."

"We will gain our independence."

"With our help, of course."

Spamo grinned. "Of course."

The Supreme Octicate's eyes flashed, and then he nodded. He's a shrewed human. he thought.
"Very well Spann. You will have your aid. Speak with my Minsiter about the details."

"You are most generous. Humanity thanks you." replied Spamo with a bow of his head.

With a gesture from the Supreme Octicate, Spamo rose from his seat, bowed again and left the room. As he left the door, tears of joy were streaming down his face.

(Acceptable? I don't know much about phylydian personalities.)

------------------
Madness takes it's toll; Please have exact change.

(PhylydiOn, first of all. And second, the Supreme Oc. was still a little too friendly. Overall, good.)

The doors shut behind Spann as he entered his guest quarters. He clapped his hands together and huffed, an artificial grin on his face as he tried to keep his spirits up. They collapsed like a paper dam.

He placed his head in his hands and sobbed.

He sat down and opened the laptop arranged on the desk, keying the comm. frequency for a William Darkk. The screen displayed the waiting symbol as the call rang on the receiving end. There was a click and Darkk's face appeared on the screen.

"Hullo Spamo, how are the talks?" Spann tried to look his best, phony smile and all, but it obviously wasn't fooling Darkk. "Not good eh?"

"The Octicion was a nice man, but it was almost as if he were mocking me in there." Spann said. "He was gracious and all, but I don't think they're going to help us, and rightfully so. We have nothing to offer them in return for them fighting a war for a civilization they helped destroy. The UEC has left every alien out there with a hatred for humans. There is no sympathy out there for us."

"They killed the UEC, but we're not the UEC, remember Spamo? The Confederates were horrible horrible men!"

"But at least the UEC was better than what the galaxy is now. At least there was Galactic stability, even if it was unbalanced. At least there was unity and protection, glory and respect. At least we weren't doomed to extinction."

Darkk's face flashed in horror. "Extinction?!"

"We're simply too scattered and rare in the galaxy. There's no unity, no homeworld, not even a habitat. We're just a bunch of nomadic drifters now. The prophets give us six, maybe seven generations."

"So that's it now. We're all going to die off."

"Darkk, what have we done?" A tear formed in Spamo's eye. "We were fools to think we knew better for mankind."

"No, Spamo. Thet's bull and you know it. The Salrilians intended for us to be struck and never rise again. It was inevitable. It was all the prophes said about Humanity never rising again, lest it become corrupt and bring doom."

"What do the Prophets know?! They could have given us a chance!"

"They did, Spann. They said that before during the Audemedon war. We liberated Earth and got the UEC. They were right."

"God only knows if we were to rise again..."

"Somehow."

"No. Darkk, lately I have been disturbed by troubling dreams. The same kind Levt said he had had, about a man and his machine. That man, in my dreams, that man told me not to give up on humanity. That there was but one last hope, and that was for him to free mankind personally."

Darkk scoffed. "One man?"

"Yes." Spamo said darkly. "And his 'machine'"

"Personally, Spammo, I don't think this "machine" he was talking about would help any. Levt talked about a machine, too. Look where it got him. I could have finished it, if the Phylydions hadn't butted in. Those friends of his are complete morons, and probably crimianlly insane. If we have to go to tyranny, I'd prefer it to be run by somebody who at least knows how to win. Levt was a total moron. If I had gotten the chance to capture him, I'd turn him over to the Sals and laugh the whole way through the tape of it I'd have them send me. Turn the offer down."

"But Darkk..."

"And another thing - you're starting to BELIEVE the UEC's propaganda, aren't you? They didn't bring any of that. It was merely the calm before the storm - what happened to his little empire was inevitable, as such tyrannies are inevitably self-limiting. He failed to learn from history. Nazi Germany, North Korea, Cuba. All of those are great examples of what happens when you do things Levt's way."

"But Darkk, if nothing is done, humanity might go extinct!"

"Hmph. I think you, and the Salrilians, forgot the feasable alternatives. But that's not the issue of the moment. I had planned to use this figurehead office with the Sals to annoy them, and help you from the inside, but now I've got a more pressing matter. I'm going to use the resistance to fake my death, then go to Dominus to make sure you don't go nuts. I've got a theory about how these dreams are sent to you, and were sent to Levt. I don't have time to explain all the details, you'd need college degrees to understand, but this method of communication has been PROVEN to drive any normal human insane. I'd suggest you find a doctor there that can put you into suspended animation and take you out of it when I get there."

"What are you going to do when you get here?"

"Backtrace the moron who was pulling Levt's strings, and make them wear a dunce cap."

"How are you going to do that? How are you going to get here?"

"The second answer is simpler, Sarah put a stealth field on Outrun. The first part, well, will be made up as I go along. Oh, there's one other thing you must know."

"What?"

" Just in case you've got any misconceptions: Levt's morality was NOT the main reason I opposed him. Neither was his destroying my base. His morality was only different than mine one a couple of points, and my position on those can be bent a little for a little while. The reason I opposed him was I wanted to excercise control of his fall. As soon as I saw his fleet in the nebula that first time, I knew this would happen. I wanted it to happen on my terms. This could have been worse, Spann. I insured it was not so. Had Levt been a Lincoln or a Washington, I'd have been wearing his uniform. But he was a Castro, a Robespier, a Kim Ill Sung, and so on. I'm gonna win this, just so I can write the history books on that moron."

Darkk and Spamo both laughed at that last sentence.

"Well, Darkk, I'll consider what you said. Goodbye."

"Don't go crazy before I get there. If you can't get yourself frozen, DON'T SLEEP. A little shock treatment, 1984 style, can keep you awake for a few days. I shouldn't take more than 2, now that I can use Sal jumpgates."

"You bloody psychopath, I'll give that a shot. This is a little disconcerting."

"I'll try and get there as fast as I can. Cya in 3 days, tops. Don't let them talk to you, I'm serious about this."

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

(This message has been edited by Fleet Admiral Darkk (edited 05-02-2001).)

"This meeting of the High Octicon is now in session," said the Supreme Octicate as the seven other octicates took their seats. He stood up. "A simple proposal has been given to us by the leaders of what remains of the UNS. They want our help in throwing the Sals out of their territory."

The Balance Octicate snorted. "Haven't we helped them enough? Our last little venture into Human affairs cost us the Phylydia."

"The Sals don't have the kind of firepower that the UEC did," said Drion Nerec, the Military Octicate. "We have a few spare fleets that we could dedicate to this."

"What will we get out of it?" Asked the Economics Octicate. "Our budget's a little down after commencing building these new Domination II-class battleships before we were fully ready," he shot a look at Nerec, "and we could use a bit of a boost."

"They're promising us plenty of profits, mainly in the form of renewed trade between the Imperium and the UNS." The E.O. thought for a few moments, reviewed some information on his personal computer, and looked up.

"That is an acceptable boost. You're sure we'll get full trade rights?"

"Yes," said the Supreme Octicate. The S.O. then turned to Nerec. "Will this aid at all stifle our effort to crush the rebel remnants?"

"No," said Nerec. "We can dedicate three attack fleets and one major fleet to the Humans' cause."

The S.O. turned to the Technical Octicate. "Any chance of the Humans learning too much about our military technology?"

"The Humans don't have sensitive enough scanning equipment to figure out much from the outside," said the T.O., "and we will not allow any science teams in."

"All right," said the S.O. There's no reason to involve the Senate in this. Only we will vote. We will meet again tomorrow to vote, and will then inform the Human rep of the results." He nodded, and the eight members of the High Octicon left to consider their votes.

The cabinet of Phylydion Octicate leaders sat in session around a circular studded table, readying for the final questions before the vote was cast. In the middle of the table sat Spann.

He sat there nervously, gripping his chair like his life depended on it. It had been a brutal meeting, and he was beginning to loathe the Phylydions more and more for their petty universal superiority complex. The questions had been brutal, as had the dreams the night before.

"So, Spann, tell us again why we should free your people from the Salrilians."

"With all due respect, Octicate, you were the ones who got us there by destroying the UEC."

"Excuse me? The battle for Sol cost us two command ships and almost eighty support vessels. Our economy is in a bit of a shortfall right now thanks to your race."

"Well maybe if you waste all your money on building more bloody battlecruisers you might be able to feed your people!" Spann burst out in a violent outrage. "You think it's alright to destroy a civilization just to make a name for yourselves and fulfill your egocentric fantasies?!"

The Octicate smiled instead of returning the hostility. "So this is how humans act when they want something. No, I think I speak for us all when I say we have better things to do."

This hit Spann on the head like a brick. He suddenly realized what he had just said and woke up. "But..."

"You are excused, minister Spann."

"But I..."

"Please leave."

Spann hung his head in shame and left.

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

Boy he had really screwed that one up. Spann hung his head as he sat in the passenger pit on the shuttle back to Earth. Where would mankind turn now?

As he thought, he didn't notice himself dozing off to sleep....

(Slug: please stop posting unregistered and show your face)

Suddenly, Spann felt himself rudely awakend by a hard kick.
" Wake up, you moron! Didn't you learn yet that you should listen to me?"

"Will!?"

"Looks like I got here just in time. I caught your impromptu lesson on the don'ts of diplomacy on the local news broadcast as I came in. Whoever's behind those transmissions is already starting to eat away at your mind."

"Guess I sorta lost control a little..."

"You bloody might well loose more control if you keep this up!"

Suddenly Spamo noticed some bruises on the left side of William's face.
"Resistance on Earth put up some challenge?"

"Nah, they think they got me with a rocket attack. A bunch of tissue-generation samples sitting in my chiar got spread over the office, and even the Sals got fooled. Some Phylydion with a cape and a really cool knife tried to kill me; he thought I was a 'rebel' or something. I had to collapse one of the bum's lungs before he'd listen to me."

"A pure taeskor?"

"Ah, that's what they're called. Fortunatly, humans are stronger and humans similar to me have reflexes on par. Personally, I think that any modern millitary unit that uses only knives is a joke."

"I still can't believe you won..."

"The secret is that no matter how good they are, they're never as good as they think they are. Thanks to some rather interesting factors, my reaction speed is better than a Phylydion's, even if I'm not as agile. I just grabbed and broke. Then a quick spin-kick while the bum stood there trying to figure out how a measly human broke his arm, and I'd layed him out to dry."

"Still, you've got something to discuss more important than that."

"Yeah. I'm gonna turn the tables on whatever b***** is trying to drive you nuts. Sarah's coming with the Escapade in about an hour, with a fake reg # supplied by our friend on Ishima, carrying a variety of fun equipment. In the meantime, I'm going to shove you into the Outrun 's suspension pod to prevent them from talking to you. Then they'll have to talk to me."

"But then you'll go nuts!!"

"Ah, Spann, Spann. Remeber what I said about it driving normal humans crazy? It can't hurt you if you're already crazy. Many neurological disorders have benificial side effects. Colorblindness lets you see people wearing camo. Aphasia and Agnosia let you see through allmost all lies told in person. Tourette's increases reaction time and creativity. Also, many of them provide protection against the comm system the late Jerry's friends use."

"So you won't go nuts because you're already nuts?"

"I believe the expression is, 'crazy like a fox.' In WWII, the US Army Airforce recruited colorblind bombadeers for their ability to see camoflauge. I prefer to use my differences, thank you. You should read more. Check anything by one Oliver Sacks, and you might understand."

"So, you're going to talk to them? Why?"

"Yes, to see if I can get them to let somebody with a brain handle the job here."

Darkk walked Spann up the onramp of his ship, and pushed him into the pod. "Relax, I had my sister check it out before coming here. You'll be fine."

Then the cold came, and Spann passed into a dreamless sleep.

Darkk watched the sky pensively, waiting for his chance. He'd love to gut-shoot the guy pulling Levt's strings, but it wouldn't happen. The bum probably has all sorts of stuff between him and anything that could hurt him - knowing the sheer stupidity of the people Levt worked for, probably neutronium or somesuch.

Darkk would have to avoid overly offending them by laughing at them too much.

As he waited for the specialized equipment needed to talk back at the wanna-be puppet masters, he recalled his list of feasable alternatives, none of them needing any outside aide. All of them would save humanity, given time, but they had side effects:

A) would result in Darkk and his sister wishing they were dead, as well as causing massive social, ethical, and relegious turmoil
would make every surviving alien race really bloody paranoid about humans
C) would end with near-omnicide, and massive outcry for William and Sarah's heads.

Maybe he could talk some common sense into the morons, and find an option that he could live with. Maybe he could grow pigs that could fly while he was at it.

(Slug: I know it's you posting all that unreg stuff. Darkk's not about to change his opinions, and I'm almost sure Spamo's unhappy with you having his character spouting Levt-isms. Play by the rules, please.)

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

(This message has been edited by Fleet Admiral Darkk (edited 05-05-2001).)

(Slug, Spann is not NEARLY that whiny. He's been through 3 wars, major diplomatic battles, and such. Even with the mind-whacking, he's still intelligent. Darkk, thanks for putting him to sleep. Saves me trouble, as I have very little time to write during finals. Apologies for the big OOC post.)

------------------
Madness takes it's toll; Please have exact change.

(How do you fellows know it's Slug? By the way, I'm the one who posted "The Meeting", but I didn't post "The Decision". Whoever posted "The Decision", please leave major Phylydion government decisions to ME, thank you very much.)

(Finally, I'm putting my personal character back into the RPG! Yahoo!)

Traek Cicion stood, his crimson cloak flowing around him, over a beaten-up young Phylydion male. The man was wearing a grey jumpsuit and a blue cloak. They were in a small cell in the Radiant Flare, which Cicion had been away in for some time. The man was loosely chained to the wall. "Who are you, and where did you get that uniform?" The man struggled and jumped up to attack. Cicion swept his hand quickly, and a wave of invisible force struck the man and slammed him back into the wall. "And, while I'm at it," Cicion added, "Why did you attack William Darkk?" The man looked into his eyes. "You're certainly no Pure Taeskor," snorted Cicion, "not with such insignificant fighting skills." Cicion then produced a blade from an armored case. "And this dagger you were carrying doesn't have a sixth the craftmanship of a Keutae. Still, your fighting abilities are far above average, if not on par with those of the group you have disguised yourself as a member of."

The man finally spoke. "You think you can just crush us like insects, you imperial-" the man spat. Cicion waved his hand, and the spit reversed course and hit the wall an inch away from the man's head. "Why the impact kinetics?" The man said. "You can't even beat me without using your special powers?" Cicion's head snapped to face the prisoner on his last remark. "Fine," Cicion said, and he detached the man's chains from the wall. "I'll even go this far," said Cicion, giving the man his blade and removing his own. He stole a quick glance at the cell door to make sure it was locked. It was. He then spread his arms. "Take your time." The rebel, for that was what this man had betrayed himself to be, lunged at Cicion, blade in hand, only to find empty air where he had been lunging at.

He spun around, his fist already swinging. Cicion caught the man's elbow and threw him to the floor. The man then jumped up and thrust his blade at Cicion's forehead. Cicion swung his hand up, carefully struck the flat part of the blade, and knocked it out of his hand. Cicion then threw five punches, each aimed at a different location. The man, unable to block, took the punches, then dove forward. Cicion sidestepped and altered the man's course so he flew into the wall.

Straightening his uniform, Cicion walked up to the rebel and reattached his chains. "Pathetic. I wasn't even using half my abilities, and you had that dagger, too. But that's beyond the point. Tell me what I want to know."

"I'm of the ones who will bring the Imperium's downfall," said the man.

"Rebels," said Cicion.

"Call us what you wish."

"Where were you based?"

"Since we're scheduled to evacuate today, it doesn't make any difference if I tell you. The base I was stationed at was on Arkerach III."

"Ahh, Arkerach III, the unihabited desert world."

"There's no use telling anyone! The staff is going to evacuate the base in less than one hour. There's no way you could get a fleet there in time to destroy it."

"Allow me to show you a recording that was made yesterday morning." Cicion placed a holoprojector on the ground, and up popped an image of a desert planet. In orbit around the planet was the Domination II, spraying intense fire down onto it. Roughly a quarter of the crust appeared to have melted. "This was the Domination II's first actual combat test." The man's eyes grew wide with terror.

"No, you couldn't have, you butchers..."

"We didn't kill everyone, only those who chose not to surrender. Those who did surrender are safely in a prison ship, en route to Yeinata."

"Yeinata..." The most infamous prison world in the Imperium, the barren, moon-sized Yeinata had an attack fleet stationed at it at all times, and any unauthorized ships trying to escape were blown to hell, no questions asked.

"You may visit them, if you wish."

"How do I know they'll be safe?"

"I give you my word."

The man snorted. "Your word. Great."

"And, if you tell me the information I require, my word will seem all that more solid." The rebel sighed, looked up into Cicion's eyes, and sighed again.

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

Darkk collapsed onto his fold-out collapsable iron mattress, a shelf like protrusion from the wall with a pillow and a blanket. It had been an excruciating day, with Spamo in deep freeze, the negotions a shambles, and constant derision from neighboring alien patrols, derision that at moments, Darkk woulda swore to be a step away from direct fighting. All accross the galaxy it was a goddamn witch hunt. Humans were being tried and executed for ludicrus charges by non-humans, ranging from spying and sabotage, to heresy. It was becoming painfully aware to Darkk that if something wasn't to be done soon, all mankind would perish.

"What to do? What to do?" He murmured, "Gotta do something... I dunno. I just can't sit here and watch us treated like this. I've gotta do something!"

Silence once again engulfed the room as he sat on the corner, chin in his hands. He chewed the inside of his cheek lazily in nervous thought. Dark realized the room seemed darker than usual. He was about to get up and fiddle with the light controls when a cough came from the corner of the room. Instinctively, he reached for his pistol, but to find it was not in it's holster! "Damn!" he shuddered as he was unarmed. After a moment he hazarded a few words. "Who's that?" he asked.

A tall, white-haired man in a gleaming white uniform strolled out, cane in hand. His brushed-back hair and studded collar indicated a man of great importance. His nose ever so slightly pointed above a pair of dry, frowning lips. He turned with military prescision and faced Darkk, eyeing him with superiority. His trousers and jacket were spotless, pressed and arranged with great pride. The golden medals that adorned his left breast gleamed, polished and arranged perfectly. Hardly a space bum by any odds.

He saluted, then spoke in a low grey voice "I would have thought you would have placed a little more faith in my apprentice before killing him, William."

Darkk did not know how to react. Where had this man suddenly come from? How long had he been waiting for him? Why did he dress like the only civilized man in the universe? He was confused and only managed to stagger out a "wha....?"

He continued. "I suppose he had it coming, didn't he. I gave him a fleet, the smarts, the biggest damn capital ship your universe has ever known, and he squanders it chasing after aliens."

Darkk suddenly realized who this man was talking about. "Levt? Gerald Levt? He was a complete psycho! If it hadn't been for him we wouldn't be stuck where we are now, 'doomed to die' and all that nonsense!"

The man glared down at Darkk disapprovingly, his brows knit and his chin in an expression of heavy thought. There was a pause, then he spoke slowly, enunciating carefully. "No, not so I'm afraid. You must not be so quick-tempered, William, it truely will be your undoing. He had, in fact, fully anticipated the Woven and laid that trap at Sol. The only things that screw up carefully planned proccesses are outside interference. The Phylydions were the only factor involved in the bringing down of the United Earth Confederacy."

"How do you know all this?"

The man gave a chuckle. He was tall and ancient, but by no standard was he feeble, as his musculature was quite impressive, his fists were still tight, overall he seemed a very strong and experienced leader. "Hah hah hah.... The Phylydions, William-"

"Stop calling me that."

"The Phylydions are not from this universe." He rolled universe and waited for it's complete effect to sink into Darkk.

"What?"

"Foreigners who will bring enormous devastation, if not but at their hands." He let out a long laugh, the room went completely black, and Darkk woke up.

(Just keeping this thread from sinking.)

Y'know, it's probably a new chapter anyways. Why doesn't someone start one?

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Madness takes it's toll; Please have exact change.

(The RPG is pretty hosed (IMHO), so we've decided to write a decisive ending. Email me for details.)

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Formerly-Rampant Human-Coded AI

The single Ishiman cruiser, all that was left of the expeditionary force Ishima had sent to Earth, fled from it's pursuers with it's FTL drives set to overload. It's shields were collapsed, it's weapons were offline. The port beam nacelle was on fire, glowing fiercly and leaving a thin trail of thick smoke.

Neither reason nor future applied to the captain of the cruiser. Just sheer, blind terror. He didn't care where the cruiser was headed, just that it was running as fast as it could from it's predators. It had all happenned so quickly... distortion... probing... terror! The three ships emerging from the clouds like zepplins. One moment the fleet was defending itself, the next, they had singled out the cruiser and... melted the fleet.

Meanwhile, trailing four-million miles behind the terrified and wounded cruiser, the predators gave chase, toying with their prey. A massive pronged tip on each of the three ships flew forward, leading a huge armored shell, entrenched horizontally down the sides, lined with windows and turrets for nearly fourteen miles long. Clinging onto the shells were three huge nacelles, the tips of which secured a massive energy cannon. At the utmost rear was a tetragonal formation of titanic engines, the such of which would have been used to propel minature planets.

The three dreadnoughts closed in for the kill, and with a single disruptor blast the cruiser was annihilated.

But then time reversed itself and the three dreadnaughts disappeared, because they had never existed in the first place. (NO MORE STARLANCES!)