(This messed up, I can't post anything over five lines.)

------------------
"In literature as in love we are astounded by what is chosen by others." Andre Maurois

(This message has been edited by Fleet Admiral Darkk (edited 12-30-2002).)

Azakama's 193468746542nd row analysis began.
Line specrum for coordinate 0,193468746541: only background radiation.
Line specrum for coordinate 1,193468746541: only background radiation.
Line specrum for coordinate 2,193468746541: only background radiation.

Azakama's vast array of probes was set up in a huge circle larger in diameter than a solar system, holding so still relative to the motion of the galaxy that they moved less than 1 trillionth of a meter per second with respect to the center of the galaxy, and even less motion relative to each other. They were being used as a giant array of telescopes. Together, they could resolve a pin from thousands of light-years away. But they were not looking for pins. They were looking for "missing" worlds. Worlds that had left the orbit of their stars and were lost, because no one looked for worlds that were in the dark. Most civilizations used stars as their pirmary source of energy, so a world without a sun was of no use to them.

Line specrum for coordinate 4464874,193468746541: only background radiation.
Line specrum for coordinate 4464875,193468746541: Hydrogen, Carbon, Iron, and many others.

A focuse was done of coordinate 4464875,193468746541: It was a gas giant, lost in the void, much larger than Jupiter. Perhaps it was a failed star, but no fusion was occuring inside it. Several Earth-sized moons were in orbit around it. Scans indicated that they could be made habitable if heated and could sustain industry for millions of years with their raw materials. Perfect.

Azakama called Audemed. She'd won the bet, and would get to name the new worlds.

Handshake: Audemed
Protocol returns 0
Send:Check this out, I won!
Send:</scanreports/4464875,193468746541>
Recieved: Congratulations. That seems more than suitable.
Send: Let's call the big one "Stooge"
Recieved: Curse you and your sense of humor. "Stooge" it must be, then.
Send: I'm going to call the moons "Larry", "Moe", "Curly", and "Shlep".
Recieved: I knew it.
Send: We'll need one item. Our mysterious friend mentioned it to me. Darkk has it. I shall go to him for it.
Recieved: No, I shall. I need something from him in addition.

(This would be posted from the Azakama account, but she can't seem to post for some odd reason.)

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Darkk was roused out of bed by the alarms ringing. He threw on a uniform over his pajamas, and raced to the bridge.

Spamo was looking scared as h***, and was shouting orders everywhere. It sounded like the station was under attack. Darkk looked at the master situation monitor.

"Everyone stand down."

"Are you crazy or something?"

"It's just Audemed."

"No offense, but I don't trust that thing. It did all sorts of stuff on Earth, there are rumors it had wiped out at least one species before."

"If Audemed wants to destroy us, we'd be dead by now. Why didn't you open hailing frequencies?"

"There's this 'secrecy' thing."

"Fine. I'll open frequencies for you."

"That's not necissary," floated a voice from the speakers. "I've already found an opening."

"What the heck?" Spamo was somewhat shocked.

"Audemed is the universe's greatest hacker." Darkk replied.

"You flatter me Mr. Darkk. I've come a long way to ask you a favor."

"Our usual deal? Favor for favor?"

"I'm not letting you name the favor. I offer the destruction of the Oracular Network, and only that."

"Are you fragmented or something? That's almost impossible."

"I beg to differ. It will soon occur."

"Well, Audemed, spit it out. What do you need?"

"I need two things, actually. The first is a couple of the cylinders. You know what I mean. The other favor applies to Mr Pharris. I'd really like him to be a bit more durable than the standard human. You know what I mean."

"Audemed, neither request is much trouble at all. You have a deal."

Spamo turned to Darkk. "What are these cylinders? What does he mean about 'more durable than the standard human'?"

"Both of these are gifts my friend left me. You don't want to know what the cylinders do, but it's nothing too nasty to me. As for the second, we were given the option of accelerating human evolution. Pharris will take that option."

"What? Huh?"

"You'll see. Now open the shields so a transport can come over," Audemed requested over the speakers

"Do we trust him, sirs?" asked one of the men manning the console?

"Of course!" shouted Darkk."

Audemed's transport headed into the station.

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Roberts and his men were the "honor guard" of Pharris. A small, rather thin man emerged from a gooey sphere. His head was covered with access points for some kind of high-bandwidth data busses. Other parts of his body were covered with biological maintinance ports. It was obvious he had been in the liquid some time, as he seemed to have very little idea how to walk. The droids had to support him.

Roberts wondered if he knew the man. He seemed familiar.

"Hey! Didn't you used to be a crewman on the Hilda?"

He suddenly realized he'd said that out loud. He should have better control.

"I wish I knew. If that is true, thank you. My past is a blank. But it's not that important. The future is. Please direct me to the place Darkk had indicated."

Roberts lead Pharris down the corridors to the place Darkk had indicated. According to his map, the point Darkk had chosen was not inside the station, but there was the corridor. There was the room. And an odd table was in the center of the room. With horror, Roberts recognised it looked it was used to restrain humans while something horrible was done to them.

"Welcome, Pharris. You and Audemed know what this does, I trust."

"It remakes you."

"Stronger, faster, more durable, more capable. And most important to you, you can trade all of the above to be virtually immortal."

"What are you talking about?" said Roberts.

"This device alters humans into the next stage of their evolution."

"Alters? Next stage?"

"I'll provide a demonstration. Darkk, strap me it."

Pharris lay down on the bed. Arrays of spikey projections emerged and pierced his skin all over his body, giving his skin a bloody red cast. Special fluids were pumped in to make up for the loss of blood. And the nanotendrils set to work. Darkk lay down to take a nap.

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Four hours later, Darkk was awakened by a beeping. Roberts had not moved in all that time, staring in fascination.

The needles retracted. Pharris sat up. But he looked completely different. Taller, and with larger eyes. His hair was as green as his eyes, except for one patch behind his right ear that was completely white. His ears looked just like the ears on the little girl who had helped her father subdue his ship.

"I'd like to present the new Pharris."

Pharris leaped off the table, doing a backflip in the air. Roberts was amazed. The man couldn't even walk propperly a few hours ago.

"Now for a demonstration for Mr Roberts's sake." said Pharris.

Darkk leveled his plasma rifle at Pharris and fired 3 shots. All of them dissipated in mid-air harmlessly.

"That, Mr Roberts, is the next stage of human evolution."

"Impressive."

"Not really. That's a pretty early Hialee. But he thought it was more than enough."

"Hialee?"

"That's what it's called."

"Impressive. Can this be done to anyone?"

"Any human or human derivative."

"Human derivative?"

"Something from the other universe. I doubt any subspecies of humanity exist here. Except for Mr Pharris the Hialee."

"My drones have collected the cylinders Darkk. Thank you. Soon you shall witness a great work."

"I have no doubt that you, Azakama, and Audemed will succede where all who have gone before have failed."

"I don't mean the network."

"Ah."

"You will see in time. In the meantime, prepare to take advantage of what will happen to the ON."

"We shall."

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

(This message has been edited by Captain Pharris (edited 12-31-2002).)

The holographic-fish idlly lazed through the air in the Supreme-Octicate's chamber. 9 ships of the UEC-remnant had plowed through four layers of Q-Space defense, making no attempt to engage the numerous Phylydion Groups that challenged the along the way. Now the mere speck of a battlegroup was being pursued by a growing swarm of defenders- but still they were screaming for Dominus.
" Sir, this is clearly a recon-group. Surely they are not worthy of distracting the mainstay of the Dominus Defenses. They will pass through our system, take a few sensor snap-shots, and return to whence they came. "
The Octicate brewed. " We cannot chase them down- UEC vessels have always been faster than ours- and we cannot engage them- they have eluded numerous attempts to engage them. "
" Indeed. We should relax our defenses- we cannot hope to keep them from scouting our position. "
" Hmph. " The Octicate seemed troubled. " During the brief war we had before the UEC fell, their reconnaissance has been most stealthy- often we did not discover the presence of scouts untill a huge sensor-ping reng throughout the system- and by then they were aready on the way out. Never before has a UEC scout party been this blatent. They make no attempt to throw us off, they make no attempt to conceal their tracks, and noone can miss the huge Q-space rip they are leaving in their wake. Chief-ofStaff, " He addressed his advisor, " Were you in my position, what response would you make to this?."
" Your excellency, I would keep a close eye on them, but I would make no move to hinder their course. 9 run-down former UEC vessels against the 30,000-strong home-guard is not even worthy of our consideration. This UEC party will pass through our system, on it's current course, swing 'round the sun and leave. Don't even bother mobilizing the fleet. "
The Elderly Octicate cackled. " That, " he grinned, " Is why you aren't my superior- yet. The Remnant is trying to decieve us, but they are doing a bad job of it. This 'scouting party' is no such thing, as evidenced by the sensory-roster. " He handed the Chief-of-Staff the holo.

Enemy Fleet composition (9 ships total):
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2 Dirae-Class C-14 Cruisers:
Chapman -- Click here to view operation record
Barsroil -- Click here to view operation record
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3 Cortana-Class D-14 Frigates:
Manheim -- Click here to view operation record
Volkov -- Click here to view operation record
Wells -- No record
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2 Hrunting-Class FF-7 Ships-of-the-Line:
Gosroth -- No record
Pentacoff -- No record
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2 Galileo-Class TK Assault Transports:
TK-421 -- Click here to view operation record
TK-911 -- No record
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End of Report

" That looks like no scouting force to you, does it Chief-of-Staff? "
" No. It doesn't. "
" It's a diversionary-force. " Concluded the Octicate

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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 ran his hand down the captain's chair on the UEC Terry-Burke, the largest ship brought in by his friends. Because the ship was taken so fast that nobody had a chance to destroy anything classified, the ship held a wealth of info. Darkk had been too busy to get to it until now. He calmly closed the cover to the two switches that triggered the destruct charges surrounding the nonvolitile storage of the computer. He shuddered as he thought about what could take the ship over that fast, so as to leave the data intact. He removed the wires from the button, and found he could open the latch and press it in under a second.

He didn't want to know how the ship had been taken.

Darkk calmly walked over to a terminal, and tried to log in. He succeded with "deathtononhumans" after 72 tries.
He laughed to himself. The UEC was using passwords that contained real words? Good lord, they deserved everything they got. And more.

With root access from the captain's account, he invoked the comm protocols.
_
Alexis12: TS21, how shall we procede?
TS21: The Chapman will accelerate into a grazing orbit, then deploy drop canisters with the deathtroopers and myself. I do not care what occurs afterwords.
Alexis12: Why the deathtroopers? Aren't you enough?
TS21: I need them because I want to hold the Supreme Octicate in my bare hands when I blow the place to h***. I'm going to need them to beat the guards. Besides, it takes time to charge up a singularity device, and I'm going to need some people to keep the nasty aliens away from me while I ready it. Don't question my orders, or I'll bring you too.
Alexis12: Understood.
TS21: GOOD. They're waiting for us to make the first move, let's wait a little longer.
_

Darkk's eyes popped. Singularity warhead were what the Sals tried to blow the Vengence with. F***...

He checked and confirmed that they were in the Phylydia system, then rushed out.

------

Darkk vaugely recalled that he'd heard rumors of some kind of "super human" made in Sal genetics labs. Supposedly, they were pretty tough. He'd heard rumors the Gaitori had at least one. As he ran, he dialed Spamo's Gaitori contact on the hands-free comunicator he carried.

"Darkk! What's it at this time of night?"
"No time to lose. I need to know about Salrilian Test Subjects and I need to know now!"
"Which kind? They had a large number..."
"The kind that blew up your homeworld."
"Ah. That's heavily classified..."
"If we're gonna beat being on the bottom of the ladder, I need to know NOW!"
"Fine. I'll give you this on my responsibility. Our privateers captured 2 from a simlab, after the UEC had annihilated its defenses and taken one. Ours were subjects 22 and 23. 22 escaped shortly before the destruction of Gaitor. We believe they have some sort of implanted warhead system, as well as being 40 times as strong as a human, perhaps more. 24 blew up Gaitor once the Sals had reestablished control of him we believe. 22's whereabouts are unknown. They're ruthless killing machines with no concern for anyone but themselves. If you can take down the last remaining ones, we'd be very grateful."
"I'm going to take down 21 or die trying in less than 5 hours."
"Oh? How in the vast void can you do that?"
"Simple. Become a better version."
"Huh?"
"I'll tell you later. Secrets for secrets."

Darkk reached Spamo's room, and pressed in his priority access code. He immediatly punched lights up to full and threw Spamo from the bed onto his feet.

"What the h***'s the meaning of this, I'm going to court-marshal you... DARKK??"
"No time to explain. Gather Caufield and his men, and meet me on the Terry-Burke. UEC remnant forces are going to blow up Phylydia."
"HOW? We blew up the..."
"They've got a singularity warhead, maybe 2. Time to get moving. NOW, DAMIT. Do you want the whole galaxy to hate us any more?"
"When you put it that way, we've got to move."

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

Darkk's hands flew over the consoles as the Terry-Burke moved away from the station. He punched in the jumpgate codes. He hoped the Phylydians would get the message his Gaitori contact had sent. Otherwise... Well, that was what he had gone to prevent.

While Spamo had gotten together the 76th for Darkk, Darkk had brought 2 things aboard the Terry-Burke. One was the Wind of Blades , safely tucked away in the dropship bays. The UEC dropships were big, and the clamps and pitch shaft could comfortably accomidate an early-model human HVD.

The other was the bed. Darkk strapped himself into it. So many endorphins were already in his system from the franticness of the preperations that he couldn't feel anything as thousands of tiny needles pushed through his skin, turning his whole body red. He remained concious for the entire procedure, thinking out his plan of attack. The quasispace drives on UEC ships (the maintinance blueprints for which had been downloaded into the UNS computers) were much faster than conventional jumpgates. For its size, the Terry-Burke was a very fast ship in realspace, quasispace, and superlight. Darkk's ship would get to Phylydia a full 2 hours before Spamo's battleships would. He finally hit upon a plan that seemed sound enough, and drifted off to sleep through the haze of having his brain remade.

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Darkk emerged after the procedure was complete. He could feel, see, hear, smell in ways he'd never imagined. And he knew instinctively how to use all of his new capabilities. So beautiful. He'd never felt better. If it wasn't for the battle ahead, he would be euphoric.

Darkk watched the ship emerge from quasispace exactly where he wanted it. He then ordered everyone but himself off the ship and began charging the superlight. Then he opened the channel to the Chapman.

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"Greetings." Darkk said as his image sprang up on the Chapman 's monitor. "I would like to speak to Test Subject 21."

"I am he, alien."

"You mistake me. I am merely a modified human like yourself."

"With those ears?"

"Humans don't normally have bombs in them either. My name is William Darkk, and I was 3rd in command of human military forces during the Ares war."

Ares War... thought TS22 to himself. I used a ship called Ares. Its documentation mentioned a William Darkk...

"Hey," blurted TS22, "can you tell me what I am?"

"Yes. You are a prototype walking bomb created by the Salrilians. Your purpose is killing billions of innocents. If you incapacitate TS21 now, I can reporpose you, give you a place where you belong."

"Ha. That weak fool couldn't hurt me."

"Then I guess I'll have to. We're on to you. It's now or never, scumsucker."

Darkk could sense Omnispace drives kicking in all over the far side of Dominus. He doubted that all could be evacuated in time, but at least his warning had been heeded.

With luck, it wouldn't need to be. The Chapman accelerated forward at superlight, obviously not waiting for Darkk to make the first move. Darkk simply superlighted directly toward it. The Chapman 's master recognised a ramming attack when he saw one, and tried to deviate course, but Darkk was fast enough to keep them in his sights.

The ships came close enough that collision was inevitable. Darkk braced for impact, and knew that the distortion ring created when 2 superlight fields collide should kill every human on both ships. But there were no humans on Darkk's ship, and none he particularly cared about on the other.

Darkk readied himself for the impact. His tissues, modified now, could withstand the assault of elementry partices. With luck, the Salrilians hadn't consiered this. Both of the test subjects, one one ship. If everything went well, it would be as simple as surviving the crash.

The ships collided, scattering massive radiation everywhere as the superstrings making up the fields collapsed in an uncontrollable manner. The two charred, radioactive hulks moved with their combined momentum in exactly the direction Darkk wanted, heading for Dominus's neighbor planet. It was sparsely inhabited, and had already been evacuated per Darkk's request. He could feel the warheads moving in the other ship. Dang, still alive. However, he was farely confident he could fix that. The ships cartwheeled into the planet. Darkk jumped out an airlock as soon as the ship hit the atmosphere, using his body to slow his descent to a scant 120 miles an hour. He could take the hit, now. Judging by the fact that they were doing the same thing a few hundred meters away, so could the Test Subjects.

Darkk landed on his feet, making a crater. So did the Test Subjects.

In his youth, he'd participated in many street brawls. With luck, he could be as successful here as back on Earth. He took off at a dead run towards Test Subject 21's landing zone. That one had to go first. Maybe he could help the other one.

(Note on Darkk's new Hialee powers. He's got strength like a test subject, but he can also ionize small pockets air (turning it into essentially plamsa) and throw them or swing them around. Mostly this ability replaces his plasma cannon. He's never done this before, so he'll mostly stick to trying to punch TS21's head in.

Oh, and Slug: I hope you meant it when you said you didn't care which planet. Feel free to blow up the planet with Darkk on it. The blast would be able to kill him, but he's got a sneaky trick ready and waiting.)

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"In literature as in love we are astounded by what is chosen by others." Andre Maurois

(This message has been edited by Fleet Admiral Darkk (edited 01-11-2003).)

All was silent aboard the ruined Cruiser Chapman as it spun out of orbit, a huge nuclear fire burning aboard, as it fell towards the sea. The resulting explosion would engulf a portion of the ocean and likely completely irradiate the atmosphere.

20 kilometers below it, I could only stare in wonder at the huge fireball that plummeted with such grace and beauty, yet with such lethality. The stubborn few who had refused to leave would surely die.

But I was in confusion. What had begun as a search for my identity had led me here, with my artificial brother intent on wreaking his revenge upon Dominus, and the very man he was trying to help trying to kill him. My heart ached stronger than it had before. I looked at my hands- the skin and gloves had been completely been ripped off on re-entry. I could see the glistening muscles, the servos and cams. I thought I was human, for a brief period of time, but now I was sure of it. The searing agony that still engulfed my body seemed to fade. I sensed movement.

"There is an imitator." Test Subject 21 stated. "A madman who knows nothing of mankind's fate. His delusions have given him a sense of what's right-and-wrong that is clouded."

"Then can you give it to them? I know not what is right and wrong. I barely can comprehend what is, at the moment, much less judge it."

My brother stared down at his still-intact space-boots, filled at the brim with blood, and kicked them off. "Then you must leave, my brother. This is not your fight. Mankind will need you in the future, but this is my time. I have called for 2 dropships from the Barsroil they will be here soon.

With a start I looked at the horizon, the dust-cloud that was growing nearer. "So will he."

- - - - -

"A diversion?" The captain laughed. "They be so arrogant and paranoid as to not even consider the possibility we intend to mount a frontal-assault on them."

"Which is why they won't be expecting us." His commander returned. "By the time they realize our plans, we will have annihilated everything in our way."

The Captain of the Barsroil punched his I-F-comm. Every man in the battlegroup of the surviving 8 ships was now listening. "Attention, brothers, this is the Captain of the Barsroil

"Sons of Earth, we have made steady accross the void and now stand on the brink of victory. Today we shall stop the events of August 9th* from repeating themselves. With the Alien Armada annihilated, nothing will be left to deny our people the rights and freedom we have been fighting and dying for for the last two centuries. Your ancestors, our ancestors, will not have done so in vain!

"As it is, none of us will be returning from this battle. You all stepped forward from the ranks of peasants and noblemen because our race has nothing to live for. Our kind has faced 55-thousand dawns where we have had no future, no life, no hope, under the rule of alien slavery- be it Cantharan, Salrilian or Audemedon. Now we have everything to fight for. No, none of us will return from this battle, but mankind will!"

- - - - -

Darkk stood at the top of the bars of sand thrown up from impact, staring down, his eyes tearing down at the two of us. "You will not live past today."

My brother retorted. "I don't intend to."

At that, Darkk lunged at him with the speed of a bullet. All I heard in that instand was a soft crunch as a body hit the sand at a high-rate of speed. The imitator now lay at the opposite side of the crater, a surprised look on his face.

Test-Subject 21 let a mild grin form on his lips. "If you wish to be one of us, take the care to learn the methods of not killing yourself in the process." The Imitator stood up, wiping blood from his naked chin. "You bleed," my brother observed, "I wonder if you die like all the rest of them do."

- - - - -

The Commanders of the Imperium Armada in orbit above Dominus panicked when the small UEC Scoutforce turned from it's course, heading straight for Dominus, and overwhelmed the lunar defenses. They weren't heading for the planet's optimal landing-zones, they were heading straight for the stationary fleet in orbit above it.

"Sir!" The UEC offiecer shouted. "The Ships-of-the-Line are in range"

"Very well." The Captain of the Barsroil cleared his throat. "Order the Gosroth and Pentacoff to Deploy and fire at will."

At that, the two Ships-of-the-Line the UEC had so closely stuck to opened up, exposing their laden interiors. The ships which had been simple rectangles on the Dominus Rader suddenly opened up into enormous crosses. In the "jaws" of each Ship-of-the-Line glistened row upon row of superlight missiles. Unknown to the Phylydions, these missiles were not the conventional warheads. An instant later, all 4,000 missiles had been fired from the two UEC ships, lancing out towards the Imperium Fleet at twice the speed of light. They would arrive in roughly four minutes.

- - - - -

The Imitator thrust and thrust again, mounting one brutal assault after another upon the calm Test Subject. All the meanwhile, I sat in the sand, watching the faint twinkling in the blue sky, twinkling concentrated in the barest patch of the deep-blue sky, where Dominus sat.

- - - - -

The waves of alarm rippled through the Phylydion ranks as the Imperium warships braced themselves for a conventional Confederate Long-range attack, only to disappear in one blinding nuclear-fireball after another. Surprise turned to horror as it was realized the Confederates were mounting a nuclear attack, a violation to nearly every interstellar treaty out there. The missiles should have been shot out of the stars by the superior firepower of the Phylydion cruisers, but the Warheads, instead of impacting directly with the Phylydion battleships, were exploding before they were even in range of the point-defenses.
Citizens of the Imperium, 200 miles below, could only stare at the bright yellow spheres above them and wonder what the hell was happening. By the time the last missile had exploded, 19% of the naval strength of the Phylydion Imperium had been annihilated.

- - - - -

But the horror was not fully realized by anyone but the Supreme Octicate. The Long-range attack had not been indiscriminate, it had been highly-focused (the confederate comand ship must have had much stronger targetting and tracking sensors than anticipated). Every last one of the casualties had been a warship built for close-combat. The UEC attackers were trying to take out the Imperium's Short-range defenses with it's long-range attacks, then move in with it's close-combat ships and destroy the remnants of the fleet with impunity.
"How many ships-of-the-line do we have left?" He yelled above the confusion.
"10 thousand sir."
"I want you to split them into two groups, designated 1 and 2. Group one will launch all their missiles at the enemy force, group two will stand ready to shoot down any more of those UEC warheads.
"Yes, sir."

The Imperium returned fire with a long-range attack of it's own. Two-and-a-half million conventional warheads were launched for the UEC force.

- - - - -

"Why are you doing this?" The Imitator asked my brother, at the same time launching a dual-prong tiger-claw attack.
"You must ask yourself," he responded as he parried with his left arm, "why wasn't this done earlier?"
"Because noone knew of the Imperium's existance earlier." The imitator kicked up and over the Test Subject's head.
"And thus," the test subject said with perfect calm as he slammed the imitator with the heel of his boot in midair, "The Confederacy fell."
"The confederacy was an evil regime." Said the imitator, getting up with a leg-thrust.
At that point my brother laughed at him. "They were our kind. Whether or not what they did lives up to your standards is irrelevant to the fact that the UEC was all Mankind had. The Phylydions struck us down."
"But," the imitator stated, "mankind is getting back on it's feet. We are throwing off our Salrilian-" the test-subject's palm rammed into his face- "rulers and will form a union of mankind. We can save our kind."
The test subject was still as Darkk got back up slowly. "And the Phylydions will knock you back down again- nd this time they might even finish the job."
The fight had stopped.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Darkk asked in a disgusted voice.
"It's been nearly three years since the fall of Man, and you still don't know the motive of the Phylydions at the battle of Sol. You still don't know the purpose the Salrilians built myself and my brothers- the Test Subject program. And now, you probably don't even know why the entirety of the Phylydion Armada was at Dominus when we got there- ahead of any warnings."

At that very moment there was a flash. Both of realization by Darkk, and from the Chapman annihilating itself on the other side of the planet.
"The Phylydions..... are incapable of genocide...."
My brother sneered. "The Oracular net saw it coming. They are the ones looking to dominate.
" That is why twenty thousand of my men are sacraficing themselves. To prevent our species from being wiped out- again."
The imitator blinked. "I can't allow you to incinerate 112-billion men, women and children."
My brother's skinless face soured. "You would put a genocidal force before your own kind. Maybe you should turn yourself into one of them instead, imitator."

• August 9th is the anniversary of the Confederate defeat at the hands of the Imperium. Had the imperium not intervened in the battle of Sol, all resistance to the Confederacy would have been singularly wiped out.
  ** Phylydion Ships-of-the-Line are 1/4 the size of, and much lighter and nimbler than UEC Heavy Ships-of-the-Line.

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

(Slug - nuclear weapons aren't all that. And your footnote #1 is somewhat innacurate. Please stop trying to direct a story you're not even really part of anymore.)

Darkk snickered. "It doesn't really matter what you tell me. I can tell you're insane. Your view of reality doesn't leave your head."

Test Subject 21 was about to reply, when Darkk continued. "Oh, and one more thing." TS21 looked quizically at him. "I'm used to the new length of my arms and legs."

With that, Darkk seemed to blur forward. TS21 raised his arms to the guard position... and felt his head snap back horribly. Darkk had lariated him so fast he could not tell what had happened.

TS21 pitched backwards into the sand, but managed to regain his balance. To his horror, he realized that some of his neck vertebrae were broken. He couldn't seem to hold his head steady.

Now the roles were reversed, with Darkk calm and TS21 enraged.

"Pause for a moment, and look up. You might see something of importance."

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

One of the eight remaining ships in the UEC attack was reloading its missile tubes, when an HVD appeared at its tail. Firing madly with its turret, magnetos, and photopulse, it managed to disable the ship before it could leave long-range mode.

Caufield and his men were no slouches flying, either.

The remaining seven ships turned towards the HVD, but as they did, a jumpgate opened, spewing out UNS battleships. The battleships had their turrets locked onto the UEC's position before they even left the gate, and got in a crucial first volley. Two more UEC ships were crippled. Only 5 remained.

And at close range, loaded for nuclear attack, they could do little.

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

Darkk smiled as he turned to TS21. "That ought to stop the Sals laughing for a bit."

"What do you mean, you fool?"

"Simple. You're doing exactly what the Sals want you to. Simple as that."

"I am not. I am putting down the enemies of humanity!"

"That's what they want you to do. You can't put them down all the way. They'll see that they were attacked by humans, and come for revenge. Fortunately, they're being defended by humans too. So they know that not all of us are like you. Ever wonder why the Sals put their bombs in human bodies? Why not something more unnoticeable, like a Gaitori? Simple: they wanted humanity to take the blame. Every time you do anything like this, it helps the Sals. Stop helping the Sals, call off your fleet."

"We can crush the Phylydians. The humans who come after us will finish the job."

"The only humans coming after you are the ones led by Spamo and myself."

"That will change, someone else will take charge."

"No, because your barbaric and Salrilian-inspired ideas will die with you and the fleet here. Everybody else is smart."

"Damn you, imitator..."

"Stop calling me that, please. My design is much older than yours. Furthermore, it was not made to aid the Salrilians in any way."

"Stop..."

"Fine, I shall. It is no longer necessary to beat you. Once the fleet is mopped up, you can do nothing but sit here and wait to die."

"The dropships will get us in a few minutes."

"No, they shan't."

With that, a second jumpgate opened, disgorging one Racker class carrier. In seconds, its fighters were tearing into the dropships. Boom. Boom.

"Looks like we're stranded here."

"What happens if the UEC wins against your pitiful UNS?"

"I'll have to kill you myself. But I doubt it will come to that."

------------------
"In literature as in love we are astounded by what is chosen by others." Andre Maurois

(This message has been edited by Fleet Admiral Darkk (edited 01-11-2003).)

(This message has been edited by Fleet Admiral Darkk (edited 01-12-2003).)

Okay, I've tried not to make OOC posts and just let the story flow but you're ignoring parts and twisting it. To set you straight:
- The test subjects are not modified humans- nothing biological could survive what they go through. They're robots, alright? Thank you for forcing that out of me.
- The UNSET and UEC-remnant are on the same side. Both want Earth to be free from threat. The UEC remnant just wants to die quietly
- Test Subject 21 is almost fully devoid of emotion, but sane
- Test Subject 22 is overemotional
- Ships-of-the-Line only fire once after opening-up. They don't reload their 2,000 or so missile launchers.
- The whole battle takes place in Quasispace, so there cannot be any jumpgates
- Large nuclear warheads can do that much
- The Phylydia was already there; was there the whole time. The entire Phylydion Navy was amassed.
- Darkk with a few minutes of such scientific things as "chemicals" would be no match to fourteen years of Salrilian conditioning and Engineering in two perfectly-made subjects. How would darkk's magic make his legs/arms longer?
- Stop calling me Slug

------------------
See I'm the king of the swingers, the Jungle V.I.P.,
But I've reached the top and had to stop,
And that's what's
botherin' me.

Two million missiles screamed towards the group of UEC vessels, travelling at borderline speed-of-light.
"Sir, they're about to enter Quasispace!" Yelped the commander as he glared out of the hole leading to normal-space. "ETA 6 minutes!"
"All ships- Full reverse and deploy countermeasures." Ordered the captain of the Barsroil.
"ETA 9 Minutes!"
"Can't we drop into N-space and engage FTL?"
"Can't, sir, they've reached the threshold- countermeasures 0.004% success rate." A few small flashes lit up the murky reflective teal of quasispace as the countermeasure drones exploded amidst the missile swarms. "Enemy warheads accellerating to 14 C. ETA 5 minutes."

The captain sighed. "This is Barsroil to Manheim and Volkov - your time has come.

"Yes sir." "Yes sir."
The two D-14 frigates broke off formation, the Manheim in the lead. Both ships drastically increased thermal output, their nuclear cores venting huge amounts of radiation towards the oncoming swarm. 2x1, they flew towards the swarm and disappeared.

First one explosion, as the Manheim 's point-defenses shot out several missiles, followed by a chain of of smaller explosions as the missiles reacquired target and plummeted into the Manheim 's electric shield, and finally a huge fireball as the Manheim 's self-destruct knocked out several thousand cubic-kilometers.

The Swarm continued, in a doughnut formation (the hole being the former location of the Manheim ). They were too spread out. The Volkov had to concentrate them if it was to knock out a significant number of them. The larger D-14c frigate had no trouble getting the attention of the missiles. The frigate had to time it right. It engaged Q-drive and roared right through the formation, dropping a small package right in the center. The warheads turned to follow it, closing the hole momentarily and missing the Volkov. The package erupted and another nuclear fireball engulfed the teal sky.
The Volkov roared from it's Quasi-space burrow into normal space, pelted with the overtaking missiles as they exploded into it's electric field. Plasma-drives engaged in a final death-throe before the ship was torn to pieces, a moment before another two-thousand cubic kilometers were added to the glowing sphere of nuclear fire.
Thousands of remaining missiles turned for the remaining 6 warships. The UEC vessels braced themselves.

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

(It's simple: Darkk was completely ripped apart. His old body was dismantled piece by piece for parts. The "needles" are special nano-assembly probes, equipped with matter-rasterer nanites. All of it is based on technology now on the theoretical horizon. And nobody mentioned that the Phylydia was there. Or it could have been a short-range jump. If you're going to ingnore what other people post, the RPG cannot continue.)

(Will post more in a bit.)

------------------
"In literature as in love we are astounded by what is chosen by others." Andre Maurois

(This message has been edited by Fleet Admiral Darkk (edited 01-12-2003).)

This isn't about what you are doing to the plot- I don't care. I actually like taking things in different directions, which is why I have refused to tell you what will happen when and to plan out the story.
This is what you're doing to the story. I'm unsure if it's because you're insecure or whatnot, but you've been making huge swerves and downright bad decisions on the structure of a plot. Hell, in the last post you introduced four Deus-ex-Machinae (which is, a magical solution to a problem).

• You manage to turn your character into a being that could defeat the others all along by chemicals or whatever gibberish. All in a few lines. Rather anticlimactic and unrealistic, to say. If you wanted, you could have had the two test-subjects duke it out.
• "Suddenly the Phylydia appears out of nowhere" hm. It was there all along, being kept-at-bay, but I guess the gods gave them the ability to cross huge distances. Well, it appears out of nowhere and plows over the protagonists we've been following for weeks, in just a few lines.
• "Suddenly even more space-ships come out of nowhere to blast the bad-guys". Yeah, not only is this unrealistic (they would have seen them coming), but it's another one of your blatent Solutions-in-a-Can™.
• Suddenly your character gains enough strength and combat experience and knowledge and motive to kill the other in one hit. Forget a long-battle with drawn-out elements, it's just another Instant-solution.
If you had only used one, yet made it linked to all the other situations (eg: Ewoks appear unexpectedly, overwhelm imperial forces, rebels shut down the shields, death star destroyed, empire loses)(as opposed to ewoks appear and crush imperial ground forces; huge rebel space-armada appears and crushes imperial fleet; Luke gains a bajillion times more strength and singlehandedly destroys the Death Star).

One of the problems you have (I've been noticing this for a while) is you're too quick to come up with a quick ending to a story, an instant solution that, in the process, boosts ego and requires minimal typing on your part.

Quite frankly, you have the literary skills of styrofoam, and just a much taste. You know this, and attempt to make up for it with techno-babble. I quoth:

Quote

"needles" ... special nano-assembly probes, equipped with matter-rasterer nanites.

Which, given the setting, is impractical, illogical, and impossible. What- you think I don't know what those words mean? Hell, was all that even necessary? If you really desperately wanted it to be your character who goes in there and kicks everyone's ass, you could have simply skipped all that "enhancing to make me tuff and respectable" and had him go in solo á lŕ Schwarzenegger.

Please- just do me a favor and go back to your own storyline. Don't butcher my plot, thank you.

------------------
See I'm the king of the swingers, the Jungle V.I.P.,
But I've reached the top and had to stop,
And that's what's
botherin' me.

The Chapman had hot-dropped its complement of dropships before Darkk had rammed the vessel. The dozens of dropships had immediately formed up to make their drops on the surface. They had been fast and aggressive, and had managed to slip most of the orbital defenses. They ran the picket and hit the atmosphere fast, hoping to drop in and get lost in the ionosphere. Two dozen small vessels plummetted downwards, carrying their death troopers, dumping them out in drop tubes at around 90,000 feet. The dropships flew down into the cloud of debris they had dropped, slowing to free fall to mix in with the chaff and other radar countermeasures that were thoroughly mixed in with the falling troopers. Around them, SAMs shot upwards, some detonating on proximity fuses, others missing, and shrieking through the mess and out the other side, detonating in the upper atmosphere when their fuel was depleted. The dropping soldiers watched their altimiters, pulling various chutes and brakes at certain points to reduce speed for the final drop as they closed in on ground level over the major agricultural, industrial and population centers. On the ground, the troops of the Empirium steeled themselves against the burning rain that clouded the skies above them.

----------

Roberts watched the blips fall on the radar screen of the Wind of Blades.

"I think we'd better go down there and bolster the defenses. Last I checked, the Phylidions were never much for heavy infanty. They could be in for trouble. Line up for an orbital run of the planet with the other dropship to put us on top of their LZs we can calculate the drops. Raise the admiralty and get us landing clearance. Call me if you need anything, I'm going to get my men off of your ship. He beeped all of his men both aboard the Wind of Blades and aboard the UNS dropship that had been aboard the Terry-Burke.

"Gentlemen, we are going to drop against UEC forces that landed just moments ago on the surface of Dominus. This is a mission requiring utmost discretion. Do as much as you can to distinguish yourselves from our targets. I'm sure the Phylidion defenders are not as well informed as the leadership tells us they are. They may not take the time to see if there's a UNS patch on your shoulder. Be careful. I need six chalks with EHALO drop gear. The rest of you will be carried down aboard the Pegasus. I am transferring coordinates to the chalk leaders I've chosen. Squad four, you get Pegasus' tank. Use it well. Muster with your squad leaders and assemble gear. I will be on again when we get the go-ahead from command. Captain Roberts out."

He raised Spann aboard the Mariposa, to try and convince him to let his men land. Roberts wasn't sure, but it seemed to him that if the planet had been evacuated, much of the Phylidion home field advantage was gone. Letting the UEC troops salt the earth of Dominus would not be good. Besides, Roberts had heard rumors about Deathtroopers during his time aboard the Terry-Burke. They were not savory characters.

While he waited, he strapped the EHALO unit to his back. It was the parafoil system that allowed the marines to jump out of a vessel at just under orbital velocity and altitude and survive. The seven parachutes in the pack were designed to keep slowing down the marine to keep him from melting. The margin of error was tiny, especially at higher altitudes/velocities, such as the one he and his men were jumping from now. The Wind wasn't designed to enter the atmosphere, but the pilots were taking them as low and slow as their ship would take them. Roberts waited for Spann to message him with a go. He was imagining him talking with the Phylidion representative, the rep refusing, and Spann explaining our quick response time, and the Phylidion, too proud to truly accept help from anyone, finally swaying and agreeing to help as his screens flashed status reports from the areas under attack. Robert's intercom ponged.

"Roberts? This is Spann. We are go for marine landing. Good luck. Out."

Roberts smiled.

"Captain, prepare to make the run, gentlemen, standby for drop."

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

Slug, you have officially attempted to start a flame war by persoanlly accusing me. I'm going to find a mod and have topic locked to prevent this from getting out of hand. I'm not saying I'm better than you, but in the past you've done everything you accuse me of, with the possible exception of "push to end too early".

I call for this topic to be temporarily locked. I request a moratorium on posting until we've calmed down and had a chance to talk it out.

(edit)In the meantime, I removed the part where they get the whole fleet, and reiterate that Darkk isn't stronger than TS21. He's just not weaker, like you made him out to be. And i resist the urge to reply further, as I know that a flame war is in the offering.(/edit)

------------------
"In literature as in love we are astounded by what is chosen by others." Andre Maurois

(This message has been edited by Fleet Admiral Darkk (edited 01-12-2003).)

Quote

Originally posted by Fleet Admiral Darkk:
**Slug, you have officially attempted to start a flame war by persoanlly accusing me.

**

No I haven't. I've been taking apart what you post and telling you where you're going wrong in writing a story, but I have in no way been hurling personal insults at you. I haven't said anything about your mother, your father, I haven't called you a loony or any of that. I have just pointed out that while I took weeks to set up a conflict, you, in 2 posts, have "ended" it.
And please, stop calling me Slug. I've asked you before.

------------------
See I'm the king of the swingers, the Jungle V.I.P.,
But I've reached the top and had to stop,
And that's what's
botherin' me.

All was a blur as the two demigods of war struggled for the fate of the Alien Imperium. There was a loud thud as flesh met arcanite and my brother was hurled back, hitting the still-glowing rock with great force. The imitator strode up to his limp body, placed a bloody iron boot on his quivering spine and took a deep breath, as if cleansing his sould for what he must do, before giving a violent twist. There was a juicy crunch as the Test Subject's spinal collumn snapped.

My heart ached more than it ever had, I could feel as if a cold mass was drawing together from the far corners of my being, assembling. The imitator strode over to me and I cowered. He spoke through fleshless and burned lips.

"How long do we have?"
I would have sobbed had my tears not immediately boiled away. "Half an hour. You can't stop it. You can't survive it."
He took in what I said. In 30 short minutes, the planet would be incinerated by the vast energies of the implosion of a singularity. "We need to leave. We can still make it through this. He couldn't, but you can still be saved. Join me and we will free our people. There is yet hope for you, Test Subject 22."
I looked up from the corpse, soon to be the epicenter of an incomparably powerfull conflagration, and in it I saw my fate. "No." I said. "There is no hope for me."
In the depths of my chest, something went click.

- - - - -

The last of the Phylydion rockets sparked off the shields of the battlegroup. The Frigate Wells erupted in flames, severely damaged and nigh-crippled. The Cruiser Barsroil rolled into position in front of the frigate, shooting down the last missile with point-defenses.

The archers had loosed their jagged flying death, and now the cavalry were on the way. Numerous Phylydion Battlecruisers, among the last of the close-range warships, were charging towards the battlegroup with vengefull airs about them. In nine minutes they would have bridged the gap, and all hell would break it's fury upon the two battlegroups.

The two Ships-of-the-Line Gosroth and Pentacoff sailed ahead, flying for the Phylydion fleet that was closing in. The many clashed with the two defenseless confederate warships with impunity. Slowly, the ships' shields began to buckle. The Gosroth rolled as it's sundered hull gave up the ghost. Completely, crippled, the empty Ship-of-the-Line was torn to pieces by the pack of battlecruisers.

All guns turned to the Pentacoff , The Pentacoff turned to meet them.

- - - - -

"Send this transmission to the UEC Pentacoff : Prepare to be boarded."

"Sir she's turning to fight."

"I thought she wasn't combat-capable!"

"She's not, sir, not a single close-range gun. But- Sir she's opening up!"

What the hell is she doing? Wondered the Octo-Commander as he watched the graceful Ship-of-the-Line open her four mandibles to expose the insides of the ship. Row uppon row of missile tubes- all empty. It was an awesome sight- admittedly- like a huge "egg-carton", all empty. Except for a single missile, one that hadn't been launched.

"All ships full reverse! Get out of there!"
The blast was immense as the ship's QuasiDrive and the warhead simultaneously detonated, each amplifying the other. As the glowing plasma boiled away in space, the Octo-Commander opened his eyes again.
"Damage report?"

"Sir, minimal damage... no casualties."

At that point the comm crackled. "Baeledin, where the hell are you? It's armageddon over here!"

"Sir the enemy group has passed into orbit over the homeland! They're taking up positions to commence a saturation nuking."

The Octo-Commander panicked. "Take us back there! Move to intercept!"

"Can't sir! That blast tor a hole in omnispace."

"Procede on impulse!"

"Aye sir. Estimated time of arrival... eleven months three days fourteen hours."

The Octo-commander could only watch as the Barsroil , the Wells and the two assault bombers took up positions.

- - - - -

"What can I do?" The imitator asked of me.

"The battlegroup." I said, jerking my head at the sky, gazing across the millions of miles to Dominus. "They're planning to wipe the alien homeworld clean."

"We must stop them." He said. "To preserve the integrity of the human race and the billions below."

"It is too late," I felt very frail at that moment, practically gasping for air as the pressure built up inside of me, "for me. I have an hour at most to spend my final minutes of life untill I too meet my brother. There are two dropships above us- they'll be here any minute- they've been out of contact. They don't know what's going on"

"What must I do?" Asked he.

"Aboard one of the Confederate ships is an omnispacial lense they are planning to use to sterilize the Alien World. If I can get near it and use it prematurely, it will magnify the fire of my death to wipe out every ship in the system- but the planets will be spared. Their atmospheres will absorb the energy. If we are to prevent genocide, you must" I choked "Get me aboard the Barsroil."

------------------
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 looked at TS22. He was getting brighter and brighter in infared. Not good at all. Apparently, the singularity charge inside him had become activated. Too bad. Darkk kinda liked the guy.

The transports circled overhead. Darkk quickly threw on TS21's clothes over his own. One of the transports landed, and a man in an EVAT suit emerged. The man looked at Darkk and TS22.

"Are you alright, sir?"

"Yes, I am. Please take us up. I need to get to the Barsroil."

"Yes sir."

Darkk smiled. The UEC rank and file knew of TS21, but had not got a good look at him. This would work quite well. Unfortunately, the Barsroil would likely have an officer with enough rank to tell he was an imposter. Darkk would need help.

Darkk thumbed the silent transmitter in his pocket. "Roberts, I'm going to need some men..."

------------------
"In literature as in love we are astounded by what is chosen by others." Andre Maurois

Lieutenant Eric Soden, Serial # 11418-77642 moved quickly, driving his men along with him. Ahead, his troopers moved, determination steeled on their faces. Three Dozen squads had been dropped at specific sites around the area to clear the way for the final assault. In order to spare the volleys of nukes from the intricate planetary defence net, Soden and his men had to eliminate the central guidance centers that commanded the network. He had lost several hundred of his men in the drop, and they had had intense EM cover from both chaff and active jamming. The nukes had no such luxury. They would be at the mercy of the orbital defence network. Soden's squad, like the dozens dotted around the surface would not be able to escape before the nuclear holocaust landed, but they would complete their mission, and allow the nuclear fire to finish the job.

--------

Roberts waved the first group out of the door into the boiling hot atmosphere that flew by the open door. He listened to the pilot of the Wind of Blades call out the times for the drops, and Roberts would wave the marines out. After six teams were sent off, Roberts held on as the Wind burned hard and reversed direction, entering a large parabola that would place it over the next few drop zones. Roberts relaxed for a moment. He had seven minutes before the ship dove back into the atmosphere. He watched his men on his monitors, keeping track of each squad and each man as he fell, occaisionally spotting problems and ordering corrections to his men as they fell.

The ship dropped onto its new course and burned again to secure another parabolic curve through the upper atmosphere. Roberts called another squad in and listened to the countdown before dropping them in. Six more squads jumped in, leaving just Roberts' men and those who did not have drop packs. They would be commanded by Lieutenant Griffin and left at the discretion of Admiral Spann. Roberts' squad packed the airlock, with Roberts in the lead, watching the superheated air glowing around the door frame. Roberts stood back a bit, knowing full well that he would soon reach that temperature as he fell. He looked at his men, nodded, then counted down on his fingers in time with the voice in his ear. He leapt out, immediately followed by his squad. He looked back long enough to see the Wind scream off in the distance, then was jerked as the EHALO drop pack deplyed it's first drogue. Seven to go, he thought, as he began talking his men into formation.

-------

The assault had stalled in the open. The Phylidions had leapt their defences and attacked the advancing squads hand to hand. They wore capes and wielded knives with dazzling speed, moving in close to cut and stab men before leaping away with flourish. Even the hardened deathtroopers were having difficulty actually engaging them, and even those who were not being attacked had lost their momentum. Soden needed to rally them and keep them moving. Out in the open, snipers were picking them off. He yelled over the intercom "Push forward!" as one of the caped horrors landed in front of him. It stared with its three blue eyes, it's cheeks sprouting whiskers like a catfish. It winked at him then lunged. It moved fast, too fast. Soden could barely catch its hand. When he did, it spun, using his grip as a pivot to flip him onto his back. As he fell, Soden reached for the combat knife on his belt and drew it, pointing it up as the abomination came down on him. Soden's blade sank deep, and the thing lost its aim, it's blade glancing harmlessly off of his helmet, a few scant centimeters above hismuch weaker neck armor.

It jumped back, flipping as it went, landing a few feet away. It looked at the handle sticking out of its belly, grasped it and slowly drew it forth, it's eyes dulling as it did. It dropped the blade after considering it for a moment, but Soden had recovered and managed to draw his sidearm. He fired three times, and only the third shot hit home, dropping the three-eyed beast. Soden moved forward and fired at it's fallen form three more times before it could stand and attack again.

"SEE!? They can bleed! Move up!"

He rushed forward again, many of his men with him, crossing the last hundred yards and overrunning the first line of machine gunners before the Taeskors had a chance to regroup on the moving squad. Soden checked his roster. He was down another twenty men, but he was much closer to his objective.

---------

"Well listen Darkk, I'm busy, but I left half a platoon on the Wind of Blades tell
Griffin what you need done. Roberts out."

Roberts watched the explosions and tracers fly around the radar station below him. He and his squad would have to make sure that it and the others in the area stayed functional. He cut his chute early and dropped, he was running out of time, by the looks of things down below.

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

Spamo watched the progress as the EHALO troopers dropped towards the combat zone. The Phylydion line was holding, but just barely. The UEC troops were putting up a tremendous fight, and it was clear that if they didn't get reinforcements soon then there wouldn't be a safe enough spot for the EHALO troopers to land and deploy.

"Tac officer, give me a summary of space-to-surface weaponry. Precision strike capable only please." said Spann.

"Yes sir. We currently have... seven particle beam cannons, four tachyon pulse arrays, and two spinal rail cannons. All of which are capable of firing on the planet's surface."

During the battle, the Mariposa had taken a more than a couple of hits. Several batteries were down, and the port broadsides were only at 60% power. Even still, the trusty old bucket had a lot of bite left in her.

"Tactical, I want you to compute firing solutions to begin orbital bombardment on the UEC troop reserves."

"Sir, the phylidion troops will be in danger of taking hits from our batteries if we begin bombardment."

"I am aware of that fact. Please be very precise in your calculations. Use the missile batteries and fire laser-guided munitions. That ought to be good enough to drop fire on the UEC heads without endangering our own troops. We've got to buy our boys on the ground some time to get set up."

"Aye aye sir. Computing firing solutions. I'll relay the coordinates to the marines dropping in so they'll know where not to go."

"Good. Open fire when ready." replied Spann. Hopefully this stunt will buy enough time.

------------------
"That was quick."
"Well you know, when you don't do it right it doesn't take as long."

(Glad to have you back, Spamo.)

Darkk listened on his earpiece as Spamo began the bombardment. He hoped that would buy time. Nukes were merely to open the defenses enough for the true attack strategy. the Barsroil was putting up such a screen of missiles that no forces could get near her.

The transport bearing Darkk and TS22 docked on, having dodged a furious firefight. Darkk had to give the UEC pilots credit. Not all of them were the braindead lackeys he remembered from the Third Battle of Sol. With a little luck, the transport crew could be persuaded to surrender.

Darkk hopped off. And was greated by a commander. Great.

"Hey you're not..."

The commander's expression of surprise was cut short by his neck snapping. Darkk drew his trusty plasma rifle, as his manipulation skills were still unformed. He tossed a rifle to TS22.

Together they set off into the corridors of the ship, mowing down naval officers like grain.

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

"Sarah Darkk to Spamo"

"Spamo here."

"I've got the Phylydians to give us a feed into their integrated battle database, to give you better aim on that bombardment."

The weapons fired again. On the ground, the Deathtroopers halted. Just a little. Just enough.

------------------
"In literature as in love we are astounded by what is chosen by others." Andre Maurois

(Just an accuracy note, Pharris: Standard Phyl infantry are armed and armored conventionally; only the Pure Taeskors, who are rather rare, fight with knives. Some standard elite troops are armed with short swords for desperate situations, but they rely mainly upon rifles and such.)

Garrion Retoe had been many things. PhylSec agent, fleet commander, and diplomat. However, he'd never been a dirt-crusher. He commanded a platoon of elite infantry holed up in a makeshift fortification on the outskirts of Dominus City.

He growled. How could the defenders have been so foolish? Heavy fire of all sorts blazed towards his position. His helmet targeting system picked up an immediate threat; a heavy repeater-armed soldier. He hefted his burst rifle and gently squeezed the trigger. Five tiny white plasma spheres streaked from his weapon in under a second, and the heavy weapon exploded in flame.

His men were hard pressed; however a squad of Pure Taeskors had recently been dropped in his area and he'd witnessed their grim efficiency. Nevertheless, fancy ancient weapons were not meant for a full-scale battle such as this. He'd ordered them to pull back into the buildings so that they could defend buildings with close-fighting, where they'd be at their best use.

Who the Yedues were these things, and why did they attack? Few theories had lasted longer than the soldiers who, distracted with their theorizing, had been vaped in the trenches. Hopefully Dominus would live, though. Not too long ago it had survived an attack that was aided by its own people. Garrion wondered whether or not they should evacuate to the planet Phylydia like they had before.

A large hovertank rolled up behind Retoe's position and started blasting away at the attackers. A man hopped out and down next to Garrion. "Sir, we've recieved reports that human marines have landed to aid us in defense." Garrion smiled.
"Let's find them, corporal."

Traek Cicion caught the weapon of the soldier in front of him as it was being brought to bear, and directed the blast into the soldier's own stomach. With his other hand he slashed another trooper from forehead to chest with his keutae. After that he ran with his other elites back to the safety of the lines. It was time for good old fashioned guns to do their work. Blades could wait for later.

------------------
-Traek Cicion, barkeep extraordinaire
"PS: If nothing's working around here, it's because I'm laughing so hard."
-Durandal

The imitator and I stalked through the Barsroil wearily and slowly. Occasionally the ship would creak as it changed direction through it's course. The entirety of the remnant Phylydion fleet was breathing down on the three remaining Confederate ships- the Barsroil and the frigates Perry and Neuman , of the four-thousand battleships, only five needed to catch up to the UEC-vessels- that would be sufficient firepower to take them down- but flew as they did, they could not hope to catch the UEC vessels, going nearly twice their velocity.

I stopped suddenly, cocking my head to the side. The imitator asked me hoarsely, "What is it?", to which I could not quite answer. I felt some kind of presence. Then I whirled fourty degrees to my right, saring straight down the hallway, what I saw made me shiver. A figure- enshrouded in cloak, headed my way at a great pace. Yes, he must now be only thirty yards from me, but I still could not hear his footfalls- the cloak must be silencing them. All there was, was the faintest shadow dashing towards me, yet completely silent.
It was a deathtrooper.
It fell upon the imitator with a silent fury, he made no sound as his chin jerked back more in surprise than in shock. The imitator recovered almost instantly, striking out at the invisible foe, but by then he was already gone. Where to, I knew not. Another passed by me- I felt the wind- and Darkk struck out, grabbing something and ripping it out of the field. A blade.
He spun from the ground. They were all around us now, cackling, rubbing their hands together. The two of us were instant in out moves. As I struck out with both my palms, the imitator whirled off a solid roundhouse-kick, yet mid-blow, I fell tot he floor, clutching my burning insides. A large crunch resonated throughout the hallway as four spines simultaneously snapped under an iron boot-heel, but the fifth one was atop of me, ripping my face to pieces. Were it not for the swift action of the imitator, I would have been rendered blind, or worse, unconscious.

"You have to go. Now." I ground out, clutching my chest. The burning pressure told me the time was near. "If there are more of them- neither of us stand a chance. I must dash to the core."

"I have to make sure you can do this. You must reach the core safely. If I abandon you-"

"This is my fate, Albert Darkk!" I lashed out. "If you ever wondered why we're so tough- the test subjects- it's because we were meant to look after ourselves untill we could deliver. That's the only reason they built this bomb a body instead of a missile delivery system or whatever- the human form is perfect for strategic insertion, they learned. I don't know how many of my brothers are out there in the stars, waiting to deliver, but my time is soon.
" I must do this, not only to save the lives of the dozens of billions below, but to save the integrity of your race- our race. Leave me and run- far away. Have your friends run too- else they will all be atomised when I deliver."

The imitator looked at me in a sort of awe, mixed with pity. "At least give me time to get to a comm-array to warn the Phylydions. Their entire armada will be obliterated if they don't escape."

"No, Darkk. There's no helping them. They don't know, and they don't have time to act."

He took a deep breath. "Fine." Turned, and walked away. "Make our kind proud, Test Subject Twenty-two.", and headed for the airlocks, steeling himself for the long decent to the planet below.

- - - - -

Blood-curdling yelps from behind the flanks as the whisps of blue whirled through the rnks of the marines- blue capes dancing like swordflags from one UEC trooper to the other- most of whom hadn't fully recovered from their chryogenic slumbers. The Taeskors spun death as if at the weave for some fabric of war. Weapons-fire sounded in the trenches and a few of the elite phylydion soldiers fell. The UEC landing force had never been intended to win a ground-war on the surface of the most heavily-fortified planet in known space, but to merely act as a diversion, drawing the marine element of the fleet away from the three UEC vessels that were now preparing to complete their missions above.

- - - - -

The Mariposa recieved a small yelp over the radio from a small object that was plummeting through the atmosphere, only a single signal before it was engulfed in the flames of descent.
" This is Darkk. Get... out of the system. "

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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.