(Cicion: Yeah, the ones using knives are Taeskors, the ones shooting are not. The Deathtroopers are trying to knock a hole in the surface to air defence net so that nukes can start landing.)

'Dammit, Sergeant, you hold that tower! if they get in and drop part of the radar net, this planet gets glassed. You DO NOT FALL BACK!"

Roberts fired more shots. He was watching reports from his squads across the surface of the planet. Some of them had arrived too late, and could do nothing save accept the snickering surrender of the Deathtroopers who had successfully destroyed their objectives. Others had arrived in time to bulk up the defences around the remaining radar towers. Roberts had landed seconds after the deathtroopers had reached the last Phylidion lines, and had moved immediately to intercept them. His squad had struck hard and fast, catching them outside of cover, or pinning them down with fire while advancing to rout them, but some had managed to breach the tower's basement door, and were moving to place charges. Roberts and his five men charged in after them, following the faint EM whispers of the trooper's cloaks. They moved fast, chasing them through the basement and up. Roberts paused at the base of the stairwell. He had counted five entering the building, and had found three bodies, but he was certain he had hit one more. He could see blood on the floor.

"Red and blue, search and clear this basement. They've set charges and they don't need a long timer. Franklin, follow me."

Roberts blew the door, then sidestepped back as three frags fell down the stairs and went off. Franklin followed him up covering their advance with smoke and CS. Any human with a punctured suit would be hard pressed to fight, although from what Roberts had seen, the UEC deathtroopers were more than human.

They charged to the top. Roberts and Franklin stacked up on the door, then Franklin blew it, stepping in through the debris. He saw two forms across the room, one collapsed on the ground, one kneeling over with his rifle centered on the door. Franklin centered his PK rifle on the kneeling figure and squeezed a burst off as he noticed that the prone figure had a weapon too. They shot at the same time, all three. Franklin dropped the kneeling figure with his burst as he was knocked back by the shots. He fell for a moment, Roberts stepping past him, squeezing off AP rounds into the prone figure, who rolled to his feet and into cover. Roberts kept his crouch and began to sidestep, leaning over to expose as little of his body as possible, while moving to bring the figure into view.

"Step out, trooper, it's over! I can patch you up. You don't need to die."

At the same time, he eyed the hole that the PK blast had carved in the still body of the other trooper and checked on Franklin's vitals-his suit was holding him, for now. He saw that red and blue had completed their sweeps and come up with five bombs, which had been disarmed. They were still searching. He heard a gurgle.

"It's not over. When the charges go off, this tower will go down, allowing more of the nukes to get down. Once this section is flattened, and there is a hole to get through, the entire planet will be chipped down by the sheer magnitude of nuclear weapons.'

"Not so, trooper, we've got your charges. It's over."

"You're lying."

"it's been over a minute since you planted the first, and your man downstairs never planted the last. Moreover, it's still four more flights to the control room, and I didn't read anyone go farther up than here on motion or heat. You're it."

"I told that man to leave me, but he refused. He insisted on dragging me up with him. He could have completed the mission."

The trooper stood up. His suit was ripped open from a narrowly missed grenade downstairs, and he had several profusely bleeding holes in his torso. He stumbled then steadied himself. Roberts recognized the bars on his helmet.

"Captain, you fought well, but right now I am looking at reports from my men, and your teams have not been able to secure the majority of the towers. The nuclear strike will not be able to get through the net. It's over captain, give up."

Roberts raised his rifle, freeing his right hand to reach forward to steady the man. Soden considered the arm that was being offered him. He looked from it to Roberts face and down at the arm again. He reached out to take it, grabbing Roberts and hauling him forward and off balance. His other hand went for the rifle, but Roberts had the presence of mind to pull it in tight and roll into the pull. He swung, butting the Captain with his rifle, but the captain did not fall. He threw his light frame into the suit, but to Robert's surprise, had the strength to knock him over despite the suit gyros. Roberts fell, then rolled to get to his feet, but the Captain was out the door and moving upstairs, to the last chance he had-the control room. Roberts jumped to his feet and rushed after him, catching him on the stairs. He shot him in the back twice, but the armor piercing bullets seemed to slip right through the crazed soldier, adding nothing but more trickling holes. The Deathtrooper didn't need his organs, he was driven by his will.

Roberts rushed up the stairs and tackled the man, bringing him to the ground, but even with the suit's augmented strength, he was having trouble. He called for support, but was hurled off as Soden ran up one more flight and into the control room. Roberts followed, and once again was barely able to catch up and get him on the ground. Roberts concentrated on using his weight, and clamped his hands down over the man's two grenades. The trooper was throwing him around, and Roberts was about to lose his grip on the man's bandolier, as red team burst through the door and dove on them dragging the men apart. Blue came in a second later, and it took all five marines to hold the man down. Roberts took his grenades, watching him strain. Blood leaked from the corner of his lips, along with dozens of holes and burns on his body. There was not a palm's breadth free of wounds on his body. The trooper had carried on with strength and valor, but now even his genetically enhanced body was failing, and he exhaled a long breath. They carried him down to the lower level, where Franklin was trying to stand up, now that the suit had patched him up some. Roberts had him lay down. Roberts heard a dropship landing outside. Moments later, a Phylidion in a blue cape came up the stairs to the doorway. Roberts stood and performed the one Phylidion cultural meme that he knew: The Phylidion salute. He opened his visor and drew his hand from one eye to his forhead and down to his other eye. The Phylidion across from him smiled and saluted him by bringing his hand up to his temple then down.

He gestured for them to follow him, and the marines picked up their wounded and moved downstairs as the Phylidions entered the room to clear the building. For the first time in six or seven minutes, Roberts went back to check on the progress of his other men.

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

A young soldier crouched in the trench-line at the edge of Dominus City. She was in one of the heaviest zones. Light weapons fire screamed toward the line at many points. She was reloading her rifle when a young man jumped down next to her and covered her progress. "How goes the battle, sergeant?" He asked.

"We're holding, soldier. Thank fortune those human marines arrived when they did. They've been of great help defending our surface-space defense grid. What unit do you belong to?" The man removed his helmet, and she gasped.

"Octicate Nerec!" She stepped back and saluted him.

"No time for such foolery now!" He roared. "We're in a war. Fighting the enemy comes before pompous matters of rank. Now man your post!"

"Aye sir," she said, smiling. Together they wiped out a squad of charging deathtroopers. Nerec was in his last year as Military Octicate. Admiral Dinial Bedein was his choice for the next one. Nerec just hoped his command wouldn't be the one that lost Dominus. He'd come pretty close last time.

His comm bleeped, and he lay down in the trench to receive it. "Yes?"
"Sir, word of the attack on Dominus seems to have gotten around. News of heavy skirmishes along our border."
"Skirmishes?"
"It's the Greccha, sir."

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

(It's (i)William(/i) Darkk.)

Darkk entered the escape pod. He'd decided not to use the airlocks, and rushed up towards the bridge, hoping to distract the deathtroopers from TS22. Judging by the seven successive attacks, he'd succeded. Huge gashes were visible in his chest and arms, but none of them were serious. He'd become better at sensing the the deathtroopers with his other senses.

Darkk finally found a command-level pod and entered, setting flight control to manual and punching out. He rocketed away from the ship as he tried to sense the radiation spike that was TS22. The test subject had almost reached what seemed to be the Omnispatial lense.

Darkk now turned his attention to the problem of entering Dominus's airspace alive. He'd probably not be able to advise them of who he was in time, and he wasn't sure they'd believe it anyway. Fortunately, there was another way.

In the place where Darkk's new modifications had originated from, troops with this modification had been famous for the "orbital cliff diving" insertion. It certainly looked impressive, jumping out of a spaceship and letting gravity carry you down the whole way with no parachute or anything. Most people would think that anybody doing this, even if they weren't burned up, would hit at thousands of meters per second and become a slime layer.

But thanks to air friction, the velocity would be limited to a maximum of 120 meters per second. Considerably more than a human could take an impact at, but much less insurmountable. Judging by the performance of TS21 and TS22, Darkk surmised that the Salrilians had caught on to this trick as well.

Darkk knew that even falling by himself, he'd just look like a slower warhead. There was a trick to it.

He waited until he heard the tone that indicated an air-defense missile was locked on him, then took a deep breath and opened the hatch. His new form could hold its breath long enough. He watched the missile launch's infared flare, and tracked the missile coming at him. At the last possible second, he pushed off and was proppeled foraward slightly by the shockwave. Scannars below identified him as debris.

Darkk plumeted to the surface with his limbs outstretched to lower his speed, as he had bailing from the locked transports.

At 50 meters above the ground, Darkk rolled and oriented himself feet down. This time, he landed in a small pond near the battlefield. Darkk jumped out of the now very hot water and raised his hands, as some astonished Phylydian troopers looked on.

"I'm with the UNS forces. Please take me to Roberts, I've got a message for him."

High overhead, the UNS and Phylydian ships were superlighting out, but they might not be fast enough.

As Darkk and the Phylydian guiding him ran, Darkk used his datapad to fire off a message. They'd need a gateship.

"Wizr - need jumpgate from "+$SpamoCoords+" to anywhere not in this system. Please advise nearest gateship and have it contact Spamo."

A minute later, Darkk saw the giant green ring in the sky. Good old Wizr.

(Sorry for the Deus Ex Machina, I could have had them escape by hyperspace, but Wizr needs to do something occasionally.)

Darkk looked up at the Barsroil. Now it was all TS22.

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

I could only stagger to the core of the Barsroil , acquiring numerous ambushes, slaughtering all in my path, yet with each attack, each thread of resistance I tore, I grew weaker- accepting wounds and broken bones. They knew I was ready to deliver- and they knew I would save the Planet Below- by annihilating the three Orbital Nuclear Bombers- and every other ship in the system.

The poor Phylydions in what was left of the armada in orbit- I pitied them. Some were warned by the UNS intervention force, but others... no warning from the UNS could break through the chaos and panic the Phylydion BattleNet had decended to.

But in that network, I heard something alse. More invaders- but longtime enemies of Dominus- were attacking, trying to enter the system, intent on finishing the job the UEC had so unexpectedly started- and with over half of the Phylydion Armada obliterated there wasn't much to stop them. What use would my sacrafice be if I could save the Phylydion Homeworld, only for the Grecca to finish the job?

I stumbled through the blast doors into the cavernous chamber- like a cathedral. I tas built around an immense lighted pit, in the center of which floated the lense. The invisible Omnispacial Lense- who knows how the UEC Remnant got their hands on it- suspended by invisible threads. I could only see it for the distortions it left on light that passed through it. It had the properties of an enormous convex lense and was pointed down to the planet below. The UEC would use this as the focus of their nuclear flame to punch through the remnants of the nearly-crippled planetary defense.

I could only wait now, untill I could no longer stave off the enormous energies penting up within my self. I would catch the Grecca in my fury. I could only hope the few Phylydions who realized what was going on could try to lure the Grecca fleet to Dominus.

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

(The Greccha are attacking the border, TS22. They're a long, long way from Dominus, and there are still plenty of defensive forces between them. Let's not be too hasty.)

Commodore Riudo Lirel stood on the bridge of her small flagship, a Kiojea-class battlecruiser, and looked out of the front portals. Her small outer defense fleet, near the edge of the Imperium, was scattered through a small asteroid belt, lying in wait. In minutes they would be attacked, if Intel had guessed correctly.

Her thoughts drifted to her fair homeworld and to the great nation it represented. She'd have given anything to be at Dominus to defend it against the mysterious attackers. Status reports from the Dominus system were erratic and unreliable, and whatever jamming system had been thrown up kept reinforcements from reaching it. Three fleets were poised in nearby space but there'd been no indication of whether or not they were needed.

Small wormholes started opening up a few thousand miles out, and Greccha medium warships drifted out. The ships resembled dull-gold whales, and they had few parts that extended from the superstructure. Most weapons and devices were flush with the hull and inside of it.

"Maintain power-down," she said quietly. Her force, containing three medium destroyers and two heavy picket ships, would be hard pressed to defeat the Greccha force in a toe-to-toe battle. Her ships were silently waiting behind the debris, and the Greccha ships advanced cautiously, approaching the small depot that hung in the center of the system.

Hopefully the careful asteroid manipulation that she'd orchestrated earlier would work. Her battlecruiser had been modified with a heavy proton beam as a main weapon, packing more punch than kiojeas usually did. As the lead Greccha ship passed close to hers, a large iron asteroid drifted bewteen them. An asteroid thick enough to keep sensors from detecting an energy spike. As the three objects lined up, the front of the cruiser glowed yellow, and an immense beam lanced out, through the asteroid, impaling the Greccha ship. Her other ships leapt from hiding, ambushing the enemy force and crippling it quickly.

She sighed. The Greccha were a mysterious cycle. Every time they built up enough they lashed out at the nearest species, intent on conquest. The Phylydions would then beat them back to their homeworld and wipe out their military. Then the Greccha would slowly build up and it would happen all over again. They never learned; they just seemed to be a conquering machine that kept rebuilding itself and running through its old processes.

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

(Ah, Wizr will have plenty to do once this little fight is over. Sorry for hijacking the character, but I want to do this.)

Maletena Wizr recieved the priority message at a slightly inopportune time. On top of that, the bleeping message pad had interrupted a very pleasant dream. He had been monitoring the incident surrounding the Phylydian space and Dominus itself. The sheer amount of work required to expand the intelligence net into the previously uncovered area was astronomical. Despite the difficulties, information began to flow from the region in half the time it would take to set up a normal intelligence net. Circumstances helped out, since conflicts and unrest can make certain operations easier just as it makes other operations hard.

Wizr picked the madly buzzing datapad off his table. Blinking away the sleepiness in his eyes he quickly scanned down the message from Darkk.
"Wizr - need jumpgate from "+$SpamoCoords+" to anywhere not in this system. Please advise nearest gateship and have it contact Spamo."
Trey'sh Maletena Wizr, bringer of peace to countless worlds, a man of eminence and prestige, nearly jumped out of his own skin. He flew across his room to the communication console on the other side.

<><><><>

Spamo's ship rocked with a final blast as a straggling light assault craft futily threw its weapons against the Mariposa's hull. Ablative armor flaked off, dissapating the furious energies that tried to pierce the hull. Meanwhile, the Mariposa returned her own fire, leaving the LAC a smoldering cinder in space.

The bridge comm officer spoke up. "Sir, I'm getting a communication from the Ishiman Gateship... Ishiman Unity. The jumpgate is stabilized and ready for transport."

Spamo nodded as he checked various status displays. "Good. Signal the rest of the fleet to move out as fast as possible to reach that jumpgate. Tacs, I need an ETA for that lense pulse!"

"Calculating sir...ETA 8 minutes. The fleet should have enough time to get through... Sir! Multiple enemy contacts emerging from the shadow of the second moon!"
Spamo quickly glanced at the field overview display. Indeed, several small craft, small enough to hide behind a moon and slip away while everyone was fighting were angling towards the jumpgate.
"They are vectoring towards the jumpgate. If they fire on it, their weapons could destabilize the node and.. and..."
"We'd be stuck here." finished Spamo. "If that's the way the want to play it then. Helm, move the Mariposa to interdict between the escaping fleet and the incoming enemies. Prepare to fire on my command."

The Mariposa lumbered through space to interpose her bulk between the speeding corvettes and the fleeing UNS and Phylydion warships. The corvettes broke above and below the great UNS battleship, but were too slow to avoid the silent thunder of her cannons. Rail cannons flashed and fusion pulse turrets exploded corvettes as they scrambled to avoid the deadly hail. One managed to jink and twist to the other side only to be caught by a antiship missile. Within minutes the Mariposa had shredded the corvettes. Unfortunatly, one of those corvettes had collided with the aft section of the Mariposa.

"Damage report!" cried Spamo.

"Helm is not responding. Engines are out cold... going for a restart...success! Partial manuverability is returning. Damage control teams are en route to engineering."

"ETA of the pulse."
"Two minutes sir! Sir, there's not enough time to reach the jumpgate! We can't accelerate fast enough to reach it in time."
Spamo cursed vilely. A terrible thought occured to him. The planet Dominus laid only a mere minute away. A mere minute to the protective shroud of the planet's atmosphere.
"Helm, set a course for Dominus. Full acceleration, with an atmospheric entry trajectory. We're taking her down."

"Sir... we're going to land the ship?" asked Cmdr. Elisabeth, Spamo's first officer.

"That's affirmative. It's our only chance of survival. Communications, signal Darkk with our intentions and relay our projected landing coordinates. Liz, secure the ship for impact and landing. Tactical, prep the marines to repel boarders once we have made planetfall. Engineering, make sure that we eke out every last bit of thrust from our engines to slow our descent. It's going to be a rough ride down people, so get ready."
Everyone on the bridge stared silently for a breath. For a brief heartbeat Spamo thought that his crew would mutiny now and drive to make the jumpgate before the pulse arrived. Then everyone broke into a mad flurry of action to prepare the ship for its final flight.

The great battleship's engines flared and fell silent. The Mariposa approached and entered the atmosphere of Dominus. The outer hull began to glow a deep cherry red as friction heated the hull to thousands of degrees. A great thundering roar echoed over the embattled countryside as the massive UNS battleship screamed through the atmosphere. The engines flared and thundered, fighting gravity to slow the descent of the Mariposa. Almost imperceptibly, the ship slowed it's descent, and the hull cooled off. Still, the impact would be terrible. Spamo watched fascinated at the ground rushing up towards him. Impact alarms rang throughout the ship. The entire bridge crew was strapped in their seats with anything and everything that could be used to secure them.
"One thousand meters to impact... seven hundred, six hundred, five hundred, four hundred meters to impact...!" cried out the helm officer. Spamo looked over at Liz, who was staring wide-eyed at the onrushing planet. He reached over and grasped her hand to reassure her as the Mariposa plummeted.

The great UNS battleship Mariposa dug out a sixteen hundred meter long gash over 100 meters deep into the landscape of Dominus. Luckily, the engine's containment bulkheads held together. Hull plates buckled and folded, but the ship itself stayed somewhat intact. Silence fell over the wreck as she came to a halt.

On the bridge of the Mariposa , Spamo coughed and raised his head to face the wreckage of his ship.

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

The landscape flew by the open doors of the transport as Roberts unrolled his smart display from its reel and called up a map. It had markers for the locations of all his marine teams. The Taeskor leaned over to watch as he pulled out his stylus and began marking the map. He drew arrows from his teams, consolidating them into platoon sized groups spread around the continent. Once he finished, he handed the map to the Phylidion commander, who scrutinized the markings. The Taeskor pointed to the arrows, then at the dropship as if asking a question. Roberts took his pencil and tapped the units, then made a motion as if to pick them up and move them to their rallying points. The Taeskor nodded, then took the pencil and drew a few more lines, moving the rally points to areas where he knew there was need of reinforcements, then looked at Roberts. Roberts examined the changes, then gave a thumbs up and a smile and began to radio instructions to his men. The Phylidion did the same, calling transports to airlift the marines. Roberts leaned out the door, eyeing the huge column of smoke drifting up from the horizon. He then radioed in to his men again, explaining what had happened to the Mariposa and that he was moving to investigate the crash site.

He looked at his men in the back patching up Franklin as best they could. The suit had him stabilized, and in fact he could probably stay that way for several more hours, but Roberts would be much happier once the wounded were under Sergeant Davies, the company's doctor. He turned back to the Taeskor, and started to think about how he'd get the idea of rallying wounded across with just his display and his pencil.

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

Darkk told the trooper escorting him that he had to go, and took off running towards the source of the crash. He'd seen the Mariposa hit, and he had to see if Spamo was OK. Besides, Spamo had crashed near an administrative region of the Phylydian capital city.

Darkk watched a UNS transport overhead moving towards the crash site. A natural Hialee would think nothing of leaping into the transport through it's open door, but Darkk was still getting used to his new body and wouldn't take that risk. Besides, he might give someone a heart attack.

He was pacing the transport, when it pulled down just above him.

"Darkk?"

"Good to see you, Roberts. Don't ask how I'm doing this, just hold still a second."

With that, Darkk leaped into the now much closer transport.

"How in the vast void did you do that, Darkk?"

"Remember Pharris's operation?"

"Oh, that. You did it to yourself?"

"Yep."

Darkk noticed the rather nervious Phylydian in the transport.

"I'm with Roberts here." he said in Phylydian.

"Alright," Said the Phylydian, "can you translate for us?"

"Sure"

Darkk then explained to Roberts that he could translate. Provisions were made to transport the wounded.

The transport reached the hulk. Darkk leaped from the transport to where Spamo was standing on the top of the ship, causing him to topple backwards with shock.

"Darkk! Is that you?"

"Yeah. I used a small device loaned to me by our friend the watcher."

"I take it that this somehow let you jump that distance, and accounts for the odd ears and other slight changes?"

"Yeah."

"We've got some wounded to bring off, and I don't think the ship can get up on her own."

"Yeah, I've arranged for the Phylydians to bring over a few medteams. I'll see if I can get your ship off this rock when this is over."

"Why were you so urgent about everyone leaving? I could tell you meant it, and I'd like to know what's going on."

"There's about to be an explosion in orbit equal in magnitude to the one that leveled the surface of Gaitor. The planets should be shielded by their atmospheres, but ships are toast."

"Definitely a good reason."

"Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Darkk began to sniff the air. Yes, that would be him.

Darkk took a running leap off the ship and continued running when he hit the ground.

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

Nerec mowed down the advancing deathtroopers, but there were too many. His gun and that of the soldier with him emptied just as the last deathtrooper was about to reach them.

As Nerec reached for his knife and what he knew was a totally futile fight, a blurred object landed very heavily on top of the deathtrooper, smashing his head to pieces.

"Octicate Nerec!" Darkk shouted.

"Who are you? You're not wearing any uniform I know! And how do you know Phylydian?"

"I'm Darkk, one of the UNS commanders here. I took out one of the enemy troop transports, you might remember that we rammed one at the beginning of the battle."

"Yeah, but nobody on that could have survived."

"I survived, as did 2 of the passengers on that ship. They are walking bombs, carrying an immensely powerful weapon inside. One of them is about to destroy the planet we crashed on, and the other I converted to our side. He will destroy the Barsroil in orbit overhead now, but his blast will get most of the ships in the system. Planets will be kept safe by their atmospheres, but the ships must leave."

"I'm not sure I want to just have them leave..."

"They'll never catch them anyway - I was up there just a few minutes ago, your ships aren't fast enough to catch up. I need you to send a message to scatter them!"

"I suppose I could."

Nerec took out his datapad, and entered in a large quantity of passwords. Overhead, the long dark shapes of the Phylydian vessels vanished from the sky into omnispace.

Suddenly Darkk could feel it. TS22 was about to blow. "Goodbye," Darkk whispered to himself.

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

Above the planet in high-orbit, the Barsroil had achieved geosynchronous orbit over the last Planetary-Defense node that the combined Imperium-UNS ground-fources had fortified. The cruiser shook as it's sides split open, sending sparks deep into space. The belly of the UEC Cruiser opened up to reveal shelves of high-yield nuclear devices, glistening in space like their intended target would if I couldn't stop them.
With a hiss of coolant, clamps unlocked the warheads. Within the Barsroil lay enough nuclear feul to destroy the surface of the planet forty times.
- - - - -
The ship hummed as planet-based beams bounced off the Barsroil 's matrix shields. I began to hear a countdown.
15, 14, 13, 12
I could delay it no longer. Ribs began to break and tissue tore as the pressure overwhelmed me. In my final death throes, I hoped my fire and flame could destroy those warheads before they reached the planet.
11, 10, 9
At that point, I felt a sharp blow from behind, launching me into the lense. A deranged mechanical laugh taunted me. I turned and, to my horror, witnessed the face of my brother, missing large portions of his body and leaking fluid everywhere. He must have climbed aboard the dropship, somehow.
8, 7, 6
He launched himself into the lense, his arm drawn back in preparation to heel-palm my skull to a crushed metal shell. I swung up with my boot, catching him by the cheek.
5, 4, 3
His jaw flew off in a spray of blood as he entered the lense, striking me in the chest.
At that, the pressure suddenly fell. I gasped- part from reflex- part from realization of his intentions.
"And whah he di'n't tell you, bruh-er," he choked, through the remnants of his face, "is tha' like all udder bombs," he pounded my chest again, and the pressure softened, pain starting to loosen it's grip, "we can be diffused."
All pressure left my body as I lashed out in a fury, finishing off the twenty-first test-subject, scattering his pieces throughout the core.
2, 1
Launch
- - - - -
The nuclear warheads detatched themselves in such number and flurry the Barsroil was launched back. The ballistic missiled screamed for the planet's surface.
- - - - -
I sat there, torn to shreds, held together by the very weakest threads of flesh and bone. As darkness began falling upon me, I drew strength for one lasts truggle. I dived to the depths of my being, struggling against massive systems-faliures to reactivate myself. Trying, pushing harder than I had ever pushed before.
But darkness was too quick. With that, the Twenty-Second Test Subject died.
- - - - -
Dawn had breached the horizon of Dominus where the battle was taking place, flooding the continent with sunlight, Ultraviolet rays, cosmic radiation. With that, the faintest traces left-behind by the UEC Cloaks vanished on sensors amidst the sea of light.

Taeskor Jaesesan ran up the slope of a crater, holding the gash in her side as Phylydion blood dripped out. A pair of invisible blades followed quick behind her. One shot out, wedging itself through her thigh. She fell and the Death-Trooper pounced on her, meeting a solid kick to the abdomen. The other blade lashed out, slicing into her cheek and up her temple. The blade returned to finish her off when she pulled the knife from her thigh and thrust it upward.

There was a crunch and a slight moan as the cloak fizzled long enough for the young Taeskor to learn she had stuck the human through it's esophegus and out it's spine on the other side. Crimson, dark human blood oozed down her arm.
- - - - -
The Nukes were about to hit the atmosphere.
- - - - -
Jaesesan glanced down only long enough to see the Deathtrooper, still stuck at the end of her arm, reach down to it's belt to pull another knife to kill her. She could only marvel at the endurance of these humans.
She pulled the blade up into the Death-trooper's jaw, leaving a huge dripping gash in it's wake and with all her might, twisted the blade. The Deathdrooper's face exploded as it's skull split down the middle, Jaesesan pulled her gory hand away to shield herself from the huge glare.

For at the very same instant the Deathtrooper died, a spot in the sky directly overhead erupted. The blinding flash died down to reveal an expanding sphere swallow-up the sky.
- - - - -
In orbit, all objects met the same fate. In the first microseconds, the explosion was the size of a beach-ball, contained in the Omnispacial-Lense where the dead Test-Subject had lay, but as it hit the event-horizon it magnified to engulf the entire cruiser and the cloud of Nuclear Warheads it had shed. From there the fireball engulfed the other two UEC nuclear-bombers, annihilating them and their nuclear loads. The blast hit the atmosphere of Dominus at a very-high fraction of C, bouncing off into space where the explosion continued expanding.
The remaining divisions of the Imperium that had remained in orbit didn't even see a flash before they vanished in the fireball. The same with every other ship in the system as Orbital defense, stations, satelites, and starships alike were incinerated. The electromagnetic wave coninued on after the fireball had dissolved, melting vessels for nearly five astronomical-units from the epicenter.
- - - - -
As the planet below watched in silence as their sky turned white, people rejoiced and mourned. Dominus- and her sisterworlds- had been spared by an act of the gods, seemingly. But while countless billions had been saved, their soldiers, their sailers of the stars, had all died. Of the thirty-thousand proud battleships that had been in orbit earlier that week, only 9,000 had escaped. The primary armada had been shattered, all forms of communication to worlds outside the system had been destroyed, and the space-lanes leading to Dominus had been snapped like twigs. Though they had suffered damage, the Phlydion Empire would rebuild.

Yet as the final embers died down and the electromagnetic energies escaped in enormous quantities to deep-space after destroying all in their paths, the people of Dominus could only look out to the stars as the Greccan menace rolled forwards.
The last of the Salrilian Test-Subjects and the remnants of the horrific UEC regime were gone. The third age of the conflict for mankind had finally drawn to a close.

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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.

(This message has been edited by Test Subject 22 (edited 01-28-2003).)