Try Again

Dean Lockwood sat on the metallic colour chair. Around his arms and legs were tapelike starps as strong as the toughest steel. Around his head were a tapestry of thin needles, poking into his brain. Captain Perneas sat down in a chair opposite his victim. Between them was only a table. They were totally alone.

'What is your name?' Asked captain Perneas.

'Dean Brian Lockwood.' The man replied.

'How old are you?' Captain Perneas asked, mildly interested in the answer.

'23.' Said the dribbling man.

'Do you drink?' Said the dark haired captain.

'No.' Said the fair haired ex captain.

'What is your intelligence quotient?'

'196 unaided. 256 aided.' Some more ooze dribbled down his chin.

'Hmmm...' Then, deceptively casual-like; 'Why do you have a mind-block?'

The man said nothing. The engines on the ship buzzed in the background. Some spittle dropped onto the floor. Dean Lockwood leant forward over the table.

'Ilkkrazchonnnono - '

'Stop!' Captain Perneas said for the 13th time.

Dean Lockwood stopped trying to speak.

'What is your name?' Asked captain Perneas.

'Dean Brian Lockwood.'

'How old are you?'

'23 and a half.' Captain Perneas made a note on his electro-pad.

He looked up, and stared at Dean.

'Am I stupid?' He asked.

'Only in the way you do not know what is coming.' Interesting development here, thought the captain.

'How stupid is my sense of what is coming?'

'In the immediate future you are as smart as any of us, but you rush towards your approaching death wi- thout fe-ar.' Dean croaked out of the back of his throat.

'What is fear to you?'

'Fear is the kn-owledge tha-t on-e wi-ll c-an be kill-ed.' He managed.

'What is my approaching end?' Perneas whispered.

'Your deat-h is not pr-edictable. Y-ou may die of a ma-lfunction, o-f a batt-le, of a trait-or, who am I to s-eeeeeee.....' He trailed off. Perneas waited.

'But you will di-eeeeee by th-ee hand....'

'What hand? What are you talking about?'

'The h-and of t-he nnnnnn' He was trying to say something, but couldn't force it between his lips.

'The non? The naa?'

'The naarad. The agents of the naarad. At the hands of the agents of the naarad.' He finished triumphantly.

Perneas stared at him. Suddenly, Dean Lockwood slumped in his seat. The life signs dropped. A dull squeal rang out.

'Sir?' A man was at the doorway.

'Officer, inform mr Darkk I will be meeting with him soon. I wish to speak with his leaders.'

Piemur has just jumped into the mining station to trade advanced ship parts for raw materials when his ship was hit from behind.
"Sensors! What in blazes is happening out there?" he roared. "Seems like the station is under attack by some unknown force...accessing station logs...they think its pirates...and yes, they are attacking the mining shuttles and looting them. Prepare to engage sir?"
"Of course you idiot! Can't you see they're attacking us? We have probably 5 million credits worth of cargo they could use for funding more pirate raids. We definitly dont want to lose half of our profits, do we?"
Within minutes, the entire ship was under full battle alert status and already many gnner stations were firing at enemy ships, being alerted by the rocking of the ship. "Cargo ship #2 is under attack by some of the more advanced fighters, and a Sharpie is occaisionally targeting it with missiles."
"Retreat! Retreat!"
"We can't sir! The jumpgates are far away, and we'd have to get out of the asteroid field before going to hyperspace if we don't want to thoroughly smash ourselves several times in rapid succession."
"Mayday! Mayday! This is the Captain of the heavy cruiser SA.SC.Pern-3. Our merchant fleet is under attack and require assistance! Please respond!"

(This message has been edited by Piemur1 (edited 06-18-2001).)

Darkk reguarded Perneas silently.
"Hmm. I'm beginning to improve my readings of you. The captive is dead. I knew I should have handled this."

"How did you know?"

"No human, however depraved, is devoid entirely of superego. To be so is to be de-souled. You are not de-souled. The guilt shows most clearly in the lower lip, on the left side of the face."

"I don't feel..."

"Of course not. You humans lack the subtlety of conciousness to detect unconscious and subconscious feelings. In any case, we have some information for you. The report on the 'depredations' I spoke of earlier has been released. The Union disabled one of our science ships, and kidnaped Dr. Brill, one of our best xenoneurologists. She origionally developed the technique of mind-blocking a human. After delivering my report, I've been assigned to look into this mess. You have become most usefull to us."

Perneas was disconcerted by Darkk's tone. "So, this means the Union can do mind-blocks at will, eh?"

"Not really. Specialized equipment is required, which as far as we know can only be manufactured on Vylae science ships. The one they disabled destroyed its databanks and nano-fabs upon being boarded, per standard precedure. Ergo the Union is limited to what it stole. A further shame you did not let me do the interrogation, Brill might have added a reverse block as well."

"Reverse block?"

"It responds to a certain code phrase. Whenever this is said, the person will immediatly give out the contents of the reverse block."

"I'm more perceptive than you might think. You're worried about something."

"Well, I guess I can trust you a little. The designer of our energy shell cannon, Dr. Eylla, was also kidnapped."

"Energy shell cannon?"

"It is a weapon of great power, rarely used. We must keep it out of the hands of fools, enemies, and the unstable."

"No, I mean details about it."

"I will tell you that when I need to."

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

"So what's the news, sir?"

Captain Mark Pharris, Executive officer of the Union Cruiser USS Xerxes, stood next to his Captain by the radio console on the bridge. Captain Foster Dulles was busy reading the coded dispatch from CINC-SUNSFLT. He paused and looked at his XO.

"Mr Pharris, it would seem that our days of border patrol are over. I am to appoint a new Commodore to this battle group, and we are to take the Andalusa and join Admiral Lockswood in the third fleet. Apparantly the ESF has gotten out of his control despite the new flagship they gave him. But that is of no concequence, because we are abandoning this worthless border post. Frontline combat! Just think about the opportunities for salvage and plunder! We shall make our fortune yet! Come, tonight we dine with the fleet! Call the Captains together, and have the purser bring out some of that fine port we have been saving!"

"Yes Sir!"

The old Captain walked to his chair and unhooked his mic from its cradle. He clicked it on as he adressed the ship. Pharris tapped the radioman on his shoulder.

"Jackson, hail the other ships in the squadron, tell them the captains are all invited to dine with the Commodore. Formal attire, please."

"Aye aye, sir."

Jackson smiled, knowing that good news for the ship was good news for the crew. Two fifths of all prizes was theirs, and for a man living on sailor's wages, the bonus for a good capture was tremendous. He begain composeing the message while Pharris left the bridge, taking the lift down to the mess hall to speak with the purser about preparations for the banquet.

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

(Pharris, I'm ecstatic you've decided to become a Union captain! Perhaps we can get this war on the road 🙂 )

Darkk waited a few seconds, then his hologram disappeared.

'Connection terminated.' Said the Comm officer.

Perneas looked at him for a second. Then walked down the bridge until he came to the chief engineer, staring dreamily out into space.

'Ruminating?' Perneas smiled frostily.

'Sir?' The man reached for his coffee cup in an almost self-defensive reaction, then remembered it was empty.

'Did you see any of that?' Asked Perneas in a concerned tone, and pointed at the spot where Darkk was. 'He was talking about Union ships being equipped with some new kind of weapon. Energy shells or something. ESF vessels have been equipped with energy shelled cannons haven't they?'

'No sir.' The engineer looked at him frankly. 'Sir, an energy shell requires a magnetic bottle with a ratio of atleast 2 times the controlling factor of matter inside the sphere. You're thinking of staticly charge railguns, which exhibit congruent properties yet - ' He was cut off by Perneas.

'So an energy cannon is a railgun which fires bottles of pure energy?'

'Essentially sir yes, but you're watering down the terms enormously.'

'Ahh...' Perneas looked at the engineer's coffee cup. 'Go and get 2 coffee cups, you'll have to explain it to me further.'


'Captain Perneas if I'm not mistaken?' Said a female voice seated nearest the door.

'Yes madam.'

Admiral Murda regarded him with a neutral expression. So did the others. Admiral DuPont, Admiral Naccali, the Corporate Advisor, several commodores, and the President of the ESF himself, Molex Reeves.

Molex was first to break the silence.

'Well have a seat captain, don't be shy. I understand you have brought with you some valuable information concerning our current crisis.'

He smiled.

Captain Perneas took a seat next to Admiral Murda. In the centre of the room, a holographic projector rose. Captain Perneas handed the Admiral a disk, and Murda inserted it in the projector.

'Any specific point captain?' She asked.

'The whole thing, right from the start.'

She pushed the button, and a dull image rose out of the blackness as the lights dimmed in synchronised fashion.

'This has all my communications between myself and the alien known as Darkk, and the battle at Nevkeis, and the interrogation of the prisoner.'

'Shut up.' Said Admiral DuPont. Perneas could tell he was in bad spirits.

Darkk appeared on the viewscreen.

"I'm afraid that you'll have to tear each other to pieces elsewhere. This space is territory of the Vylae Trading Consortium, protected under treaty. I believe if you look about 12° to the Galactic West, you will see our outpost."


'Well well well.' Said the President in a magnanimous tone of voice. 'I didn't know a lot more than I thought I knew about my Admiral's operations. That encounter of yours was beautifully planned Admiral DuPont.'

Admiral DuPont smiled graciously.

Perneas felt compelled to make a reply.

'What do you mean planned?'

DuPont chuckled. 'Really captain, you don't expect it was some vulgar accident? Of course it was planned.'

Everyone looked slightly amused, except the President.

'Now now Admiral, you're not giving enough credit to captain Perneas. If that transmission was any judge, he knew nothing about the whole thing.' He said.

Admiral DuPont recoiled from this criticism, and cast a baleful glare at Perneas.

'Atleast it didn't cost us anything' Said the corporate advisor. 'I almost had to adjust my budget for that first encounter.'

Admiral Murda leant forward and took the film out of the holo-viewer, frozen as it was on Darkk's final expression.

'Pity the prisoner died, but I don't suppose you could have made sure your copy of the film was entirely accurate if you hadn't been the interviewer.' Said Admiral Murda.

'What? I though you told me to arrange that because you didn't trust him!' Said Perneas, in a furious tone.

'Calm down captain, there as no other way.'

'For enough money I'm not so sure.' Interjected Naccali. 'Atleast we know what kind of species we're dealing with, greedy and intelligent.'

'Are you saying that's bad Thanatos? Atleast we live by the same standards, and they seem far more orderful and directed.' Replied Molex Reeves. 'I would like to set up a consulate with them, but I don't suppose we have anything they would want to buy, and we couldn't afford anything they had.' Laughter.

'Can we move on to more important matters please?' Asked Admiral DuPont in an icy tone of voice.

'Course Admiral.' Said Molex. He scanned his list.

'3rd item for today is about armokur stockpiles, but since we have the captain here, I would like to skip to item number 7 and 8 respectively. Item 7, is a technological comparison of our technology and the Union's. Admiral Murda, if you please?'

She nodded, and stood up holding a remote control, turning to one of the walls, she flicked a switch, and it unveiled a huge 2-D viewer screen. All members rotated their chairs.

'As you know, the Union's technology is superior to ours, as they have stronger armour, heavier weapons and more advanced stardrives. Recently their advantages have become so great, that we will be forced to battle whether we like it or not. The source of their technological expertise is not known, but not all of it can come from pirate raids on other species.'

The viewer clicked onto a shaky picture of what could be likened to an upright beetle.

'This is the only picture of a Naarad we have, otherwise I could tell you more about their biological systems. The position they hold over Union society us relatively difficult to judge, but they seem to be assisting the Union for reasons unknown.'

The picture moved over to a picture of a major Union shipyard, with ships in production, and 2 strange blue ones docked nearby.

'So that was what Dean was talking about.' Muttered Thanatos Naccali.

Admiral Murda paused.

'When you're ready?'

'My apologies.' Said Naccali.

'This is a picture of 2 naarad warships, and they are quite different from our own. If you look closely' She magnified the image. 'You can see their weapons are very similar - ' The picture slided into 2, this time of a Union corvette top-side ' - to the Union, but slightly more powerful, which gives us reasons to suggest they aren't giving away their best tricks till last.'

'Excuse me Admiral,' Said Molex Reeves. 'How could you tell if they're more powerful than the Union ones, if we've never fought Naarad ships?'

Admiral Murda looked at Admiral DuPont for a long second.

'President?' Said Admiral DuPont. 'We have fought naarad ships, but only once.'

'Why wasn't I told?' Asked Molex angrily. 'Admiral Naccali did you know of this?'

Admiral Naccali shook his head.

'You weren't told, because the information was... very disturbing and unreliable.' Said Admiral Murda.

'Bull****.' Said Molex, now extremely angry. 'It is your duty to tell me EVERYTHING! If you don't, then you give me reason to doubt the competence of your service to the ESF.'

'I'm sorry sir, I will replay it after this.' Said Murda.

'There isn't much point.' DuPont muttered. 'We get slaughtered.'

'This is out of place.' Said Molex waving his arms about, 'Continue Murda.'

'Well, basically the Union uses 2 main weapons that are very different from ours. Plasma weapons, which are reasonably widespread, and Fusion Rockets, which are isolated on the Union Battlecruisers.'

The picture split into 5 different ships.

'The fighter shown on the left uses machineguns, and is just like our fighter, but extremely strong due to their gravsteel construction.'

'Sorry Admiral, how much stronger?' Asked Naccali.

'7 and a half times stronger.' Said Murda.

DuPont rolled his eyes.

'It also has a one-time plasma discharge. The next ship is the corvette, practically a larger fighter. It uses the same weapons as the fighter, but also has a plasma launcher, and a large charge of plasma. The heavy destroyer, ' She continued; 'has guided nuclear missiles, but the payload suffers due to it's extensive guidance system. The next is the escort carrier, with advanced neutron missiles and carries 2 fighters, and next is the battlecruiser.' She paused for breath.

'The battlecruiser has 3 times as many plasma outlets, turreted machineguns, and a fusion rocket. It is capable of defeating any ESF ship one-on-one.'

She flicked the picture off, and sat down.

'Interesting admiral, but how does that help us?' Asked Denarj Nefalk, corporate advisor.

'I'm just giving you an idea of their strengths' She replied. 'Union ships are on average much much stronger because of their gravsteel, but suffer very much from it's extreme inertia. They have to use fusion engines just to move forward, and the fighter performs like a slug compared to ours.'

'What's next on the list?' Said Admiral DuPont.

'Umm...' The president scrolled down. 'Union ships have been amassing at our border, under the command of...' He paused. 'Well that's an interesting coincidence!'

'What sir?' Asked Perneas eagerly.

'Admiral Gveinne Lockwood. Of the 3rd fleet.' He laughed, 'What good spies you have Murda!'

She gazed at him solemnly.

'This is no time to joke Reeves. That fleet alone has enough firepower to blast Earth to pieces.'

Everyone sat silently contemplating this for a moment.

'Captain Perneas...' Said DuPont; 'You're presence here as been most helpful, and you may now leave for the border world of Magestic 3. We will be keeping the disk, and once again thanks. If you encounter Darkk again, please don't enlist his help. If the Union attacks, though, you have a blank cheque as far as hiring Vylae warships is concerned.'

Captain Perneas rose and bowed to the assembly, who nodded at him.

Then left the room.

Shields down to 70%, Piemur was running out of options. a squad of Falcon interceptors were pounding on Cargo Ship #4 and several Invasion-class shuttles were coming along to take it, as soon as the 3 gunner stations were taken down and shields were offline. Piemur tried to shield it as much as possible, and was doing the best he could for evading the pirates.
Grudgingly, he said "Release the onboard cargo pods and prepare for evasive manuevers, but charge up the shield batteries to maximum." The shields on the pods would prevent the enemy ships from taking them down or destroying them, and had a deterrent for tractor beams. However, they drained the high capacity batteries in a matter of hours. He needed to finish this quickly.
"Helm, 30 degrees starboard, 90 degree roll, cargo 4: head toward bearing 243,19...flank, cargo 1: head toward 247, 19 on an intercept course to shield cargo 4 as much as possible. cargos 2,3, and 5, go to bearing 117, 351 flank and head to the station, avoid the thickest fighting if possible and use the asteroids as cover. Over. Hope the station still has some gunners available. Calling mining station #1345 Epsilon, Piemur of the SA.SC.Pern-3 is requesting some assistance for three of my cargo ships I'm sending your way, if there are anymore ships left willing to do some escort duty, please respond now."
...silence...
"Err...mining station Epsilon? Do you read?"
...static...then a faint voice "....silon reads you, the...roids are blocking...transmission, many sat...ite relays have been destroyed...but yes, we do have some...mercenaries...willing to do...cort duty...they say that...10,000 credits per ship..."
"Okay, what are their specifications? I repeat...What are their specifications?"
...static..."...4 corsair class...unboats...10...enger class fighters, and...torpedo frigates..."
"Repeat for the frigates...and tell them that it is reasonable...repeat is reasonable."
..."copy that...2...gates...be there shortly..."...more static...then an ominous silence...
"Gunners, concentrate fire on the Stalker over there and give me a solution for 5 torpedoes...I KNOW that it is unreasonable, but better be safe than sorry."
Afterwards, the torpedoe launcher fired several times, 5 torpedoes sped towards the Stalker, and all of them struck the ship. The Stalker turned from attacking a Torpedo Cruiser, and began chasing them. Without backup, the squad of Avengers suddenly turned tail after several defense platforms opened fire on them. Fighting still raged around the system, but the pirates seemed to be losing ground. Piemur pulled up a readout of the Rift. It seemed to be making a huge swath of destruction and probably accounted for 12% of the pirate losses, with about twenty ships fighting the pirates. Piemur smiled grimly, there were a total of 3 Stalkers...Mag took out 1 of them, and the SA.SC.Pern was annoying 1 more. Now where was the last?
"Sensors, what happened to the last Stalker?"
"It was taken out by a squad of fighters calling themselves "The Dark Elite"...now thats interesting...they are attacking some of the shuttles and capturing them for themselves...hey! they were the ones who were supposed to be escorting our transports!"
"Helm! Change heading to 117, 351 and go to FTL drive...I dont care about possible nose damage, we can repair them, but our ships are in trouble! Pull up as much shields to the front as possible and use the gunners to take out the big asteroids in front that we can't avoid. We've got to save them! Can we get a channel to the Rift? "
"No, sir, it appears that their communications are down."
"Is there any way we can get a message to them?"
"I believe they have one droid on board, and if we can get the message to the droid, and have it repeat the message to the crew, I think it could work, although it'd take longer for their captain to receive the message." "Do it. Send the following message: Begin. 'Calling Mag Steelglass of the Rift! Your ship can get to our transports quickly...please head to 117, 351 and take out the squad called the "Dark Elite". They've probably hit our transports and taken them over...if possible, please engage! I will repay you for your efforts!' End. Helm! Get going already!"
A tear appeared in Piemur's eye "...all of that profit...gone..."

------------------
"At ----- , bullcrap is our most important product"
-graffiti on the lavatory wall of a major consultancy (from The Wizardry Consulted )

(This message has been edited by Piemur1 (edited 06-18-2001).)

Darkk placed the vidcard into the reader and hit "play".

Onscreen, a long slender Vylae ship appeared. A warpship was directly behind it, looking small by comparison. Darkk remebered the specs on the "Negotiator" class bombardment ships. They were over 7km in length. The camera panned, showing a blue and purple planet directly ahead of the Negotiator. As the camera panned around to show an above-front view, a violent humming was heard. The magnetic fields in the Negotiator's cannon were so powerful they produced sound waves inside the recording drone, which were captured duitifly.

Suddenly, both ends of the ship began to glow. Then there was a immense rumble, which shook the camera. The rear of the ship emitted a diffuse backblast, but the front emitted a tightly focused pulse, trailing a distinctive double-cone shockwave. The camera panned to follow the pulse, zooming to show the various defender ships being devestated by the electro-weak shockwave and the side lobes of the blast.

A different camera was selected, and the planet came into focus. The blast shot from the bottom of the screen and hit the planet - which cracked and began to change color. The blast was equivilent to a small moon hitting the planet.

Darkk stoped the replay, and took out the vidcard. On it was marked "Fleet Admiral Volvox's Hirgon campaign, edited by Ensign Darkk". Darkk had served as a personal assitent to the ledgendary Volvox, a role requiring him to do everything from fetching beveriges and snacks to editing together footage of his battles for his records. Darkk had been prepairing a cup of rird at the time of the shot, and had been impressed by the power of those magnetic oscilations; it was unbelievable they could produce vibration and sound in nearby vessles.

After seeing the footage of the hit, he could very well believe the oscilations were that powerful. That was the first and only time the Vylae DXRC 15 energy shell cannon had been fired in anger - only 3 were built, and when they were used after that, no enemy failed to surrender or self-destruct beforehand.

Darkk placed the vidcard back in its storage slot carefully. This kind of weapondry, in the hands of the piratical Union...

Darkk immediatly began to compose a message to Perneas, the only ESF commander who he knew how to reach. They should know about this. The Union could... could... could do pretty much anything.

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

"The northernmost Stalker is within range."
"Can you get a lock on it?"
"We currently have a strong and reliable lock."
"Fire one salvo, and then let's be ready to dodge some ion missiles."
"Aye, sir," said Bug. "Torpedoes launched." Five orange streaks shot away from the Rift and began bearing on one of the Stalkers. The ship was slow, even for a battleship, and even if it cloaked, it wouldn't be able to move far enough to dodge the torpedoes. Neither Stalker fired back. How strange. Perhaps their ion missile launchers had been damaged by asteroids? No, the chances of just their ion missile launchers being damaged and nothing else, and those being on both Stalkers were minimal. The torpedoes hit, making a smouldering crater on the hull.
"Fire another salvo." Five more torpedoes headed for the Stalker, and these, too, hit.
"I don't think they can use their ion missile launchers for some reason, let's head in and pound them one on one."
"Aye, sir," said the pilot, before the ship tore away, and headed towards the nearest Stalker. As the distance between the two ships lessened, the Stalker opened up with its flak artillery cannon. Mag could hear the scraping of the flak against the Rift's armor, but the flak artillery was meant for destroying fighters, and did little to capital vessels. The distance became short enough that the two ships could fire on each other with melee weapons, and they began pouring fire into each other, and soon they each had extensive black streaks and marks on their hulls. The Rift had taken the most beating where the Avengers' rockets had hit. There was an increasingly deep blackened crater there, with some small wisps of smoke coming out.
"How's the ship holding up, engineering?"
"Sir, the ship is still fully functional, but those busts from the ion-enhanced plasma charge turrets is taking a toll on our computers. I don't know how much we'll be able to take before our systems begin malfunctioning. As far as armor goes, we look a lot worse than we feel, except over on the side where those rockets hit. Our armor over there is only about 28 centimeters thick, now. We won't be able to take much punishment over there."
"Acknowledged, engineering. Sensors, how is the Stalker?"
Kathleen, concentrating hard on her computer, replied, "We're hitting it with much more fire than it's been hitting us with, but it's also much tougher. It appears to be taking the most beating near the engines and just behind the bridge."
"Bug, fire only on those areas."
"Complying to orders." The swivel cannons and turrets on the Rift adjusted to aim at the engines, which were nearer than the area directly behind the bridge. Fire once again poured out of the Rift , and this time it was at an already damaged area. The Torpedo Cruiser realigned itself to be facing the engines, and fired a salvo of torpedoes from point-blank range. The Stalker shuddered, and the engines began leaking plasma, which floated out into space. The engines shut off.
"Helm, keep us out of that cloud of plasma!"
"Sir, we can't avoid it. We'll have to just go through as quickly as possible."
"Agreed. Use everything you can, including afterburners, but get us through that cloud as fast as possible." Mag watched as the view screen showed the ever approaching plasma. The helm officer engaged the afterburners, and they shot for it at a good speed. They wouldn't be in it long. Soon, the front of the ship had entered.
"Engineering, lock the engines down, we don't want plasma getting up through our engines and into our fuel tanks!"
"Aye, sir, engines locking down." The engines shut off, and protective armoring locked itself in place over their ends, protecting them. Soon, the entire ship was drifting through the cloud of plasma.
"Engineering, how are we holding up?"
A static began coming over the intercom. "Sir, we're holding up nicely on that side where our armor got heavily thinned, but our communications is startin...break down a...sens...s won't hol...ut much longe......." Static was the only thing they were hearing, now.
"Shut the intercom system off. We'll have to use our personal communications gear to talk, now." The view screen went to static, then flashed brightly for a second before going dark.
Mag took out his phone, and dialed Rob's number.
"Hello?" came Rob's voice after the third ring.
"Hi, it's Mag. We've shut the intercom down, it's not working any more. Look, is there any way for us to tell when we exit the plasma cloud?"
"Well, you could open the bridge viewports, but I wouldn't recommend it. The plasma would blind everyone, and it'd chew through the viewport and get into the bridge before anybody could say 'We're almost out.' I've set up some thermometers at the crater in our armor. I think that we'll be out of the cloud when the temperature stops increasing, but it'll take about a minute for us to be sure."
And so the crew waited. It took about ten minutes before Mag's phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Captain, it's Rob. The thermometers are starting to go down in temperature due to the ship's venting system. We're out of the cloud."
"Thanks, Rob. Now open the engines and the viewports, all right?"
"Aye, sir. Talk with you later." Mag turned the cell phone off and put it back in its drawer. The viewports were opening, and they could see the battle around them. There was much less going on than there had been before. Mag was straining to see the distant dog fights when a massive vessel decloaked in front of the Rift. It was the Stalker they hadn't been fighting with.
"Get us out of here, helm!"
The Rift rolled to have its healthier side facing the battleship and used its afterburners to get moving quickly. Fire poured out of the Stalker, and the already heavily damaged Rift shuddered.
"Sir, look over there!" Kathleen had sharp eyes, and was pointing in the distance. Far off to their right, the Stalker they had origionally engaged was still drifting, but had stopped the plasma leak, was turned to face them, and was firing ion missiles like mad. The missiles were now quickly homing in on the Rift's damaged side. The helm officer rotated to face their healthy side towards the missiles, but then the other Stalker began firing on the damaged side.
Kathleen spoke again. "Sir, I think the Stalker that we already fought with is heavily damaged. If we fired in one more salvo of torpedoes, we could probably disable it."
"Bug, fire the torpedoes."
"Without sensors, sir, we cannot give the torpedoes guidance, unless I manually aim them, and I cannot manually fly each torpedo and use our other weapons at the same time."
"Well, manually guide them, then. Helm, just keep us alive."
"Aye, sir."
Five more torpedoes shot out, and quickly began a broad turn to line up on the damaged Stalker. Bug had moved out to where he could see the torpedoes and the Stalker through the view port, and the helm officer was busy trying to dodge the fire from the nearer Stalker and keep Bug lined up at the same time. Luckily for them, torpedoes were much faster than missiles, so their torpedoes would manage to hit the Stalker shortly before the first missile would reach them. Mag moved over next to Bug to watch the progress of the torpedoes. Getting closer, getting very close, almost there, and then five explosions on the hull of the Stalker. Electrical discharges shot over the Stalker's hull, and it began drifting and was leaking plasma and fire. Shuttles and escape pods launched from it, and headed for the jumpgate. The crew that hadn't gotten to the shuttles or escape pods in time went EV, floating in their space suits as their ruined ship drifted on.
Laughter and cheering went up on the bridge, but abruptly ended when the ion missiles began impacting on their heavily damaged side. There were six missiles, and the first five had missed the crater in their armoring. Now for the sixth. Soon, it was back, past the area where they could see it. Mag held his breath, and felt time slow down. Seconds seemed like hours as they slowly crawled by. One second, and no impact. Two seconds, and they were still fine. Three seconds, and nothing had happened. Perhaps the missile had missed? Four seconds, and an abrupt jarring of the ship. Arcs of electricity flew over the consoles, and then the room went dim except for the light from outside. Instead of what Mag had predicted, the nearby Stalker left them, engaging a small ship that registered as a cruiser that was attacking it. Meanwhile, the Rift lazily rotated around an axis running along the ship. The world outside was spinning.
"Sir, I have activated my infrared vision, and it would appear that engineering still has power and control over the ship. You might want to head down there. Atmosphere is leaking out of the ship, down there, and as doors are being opened and closed, it is leaking from the rest of the ship, too."
"Right. I'm heading down to engineering. If any crew members show up at the bridge, tell them to get suited up. I think you guys should do the same." Mag left the room, and headed to his quarters, where he took his space suit out of its drawer. He got it on, and headed down to engineering, telling all crew members he met on the way to get suited up.
"Hello, Captain," Rob greeted him in engineering. "We've still got some RCS control and engines, but she'll be tricky to fly, since we can't stop spinning."
As Rob went on with his report of what worked and what didn't, Mag began thinking of just how expensive repairs to his ships were going to be.
Five minutes later, Bug showed up in engineering.
"Bug, what are you doing here?"
"This unit has recieved a message destined for Captain Mag Steelglass."
"Give it to me, then."
"Calling Mag Steelglass..."

------------------
"Thou shalt not be a loser."
(url="http://"http://www.MSPlugDevelopment.n3.net")www.MSPlugDevelopment.n3.net(/url)
Reviews are appreciated.

(This message has been edited by Mag Steelglass (edited 12-32-2164).)

(This message has been edited by Mag Steelglass (edited 06-16-2001).)

(Mag, don't post a page length essay on the ships in WITV. Piemurl couldn't know, and this is a very flexible RPG. Maybe you could edit everything to fit in more with his storyline? Darkk, can you arrange it so the Vylae know of the Naarad? The naarad basically want to control everything, but can't because they own too much space already and need to make other races voluntarily join them by coercing/and or sponsoring civil wars. This is basically what the whole Union vs ESF thing is about.)


It was snowing on Magestic 3.

Captain's Perneas could see that the moment he looked out the frosted window. Snow and hail pelted the landing pad, and nearby station. Inside the shuttle it was warm, yet somehow chilled by the difference in temperature between here, and only a few centimetres away, where it was -10 degrees C.

'The shuttle has landed sir.'

Perneas was sitting next to a fellow captain, and an ensign who had apparently gotten zero-G battle shock in a skirmish between pirates. Perneas didn't know the details, but he despised such men as were frighted by gravity's capricious wiles. The shuttles door opened slowly, and Perneas got out to smell the fresh Magestic air.

'Pure and clean isn't Perneas? Just like I earth a thousand years ago I bet.' Said captain Marselle jovially.

'Yes. Earth is in a deplorable state isn't it?' He answered, his mind wandering.

So this was Magestic 3. Where his grandparents had died. Where so many battles had been fought. Where men were hardened or destroyed. You entered Magestic, not as a man, but a clean sword. And only the heat of battle could determine how you would end up.

He took another breath, then realised he was wearing only his captain's uniform.

'Ha, frost on my nose!' He rubbed his nose, where ice had formed. 'Do the officer's live inside the whole time? Or do we get to wear something a little less revealing?'

'You get a special issue captain's uniform I believe, but ah here's our escort now!' As he said this, Perneas could make out someone walking towards them holding 2 coats. The man approached, and Perneas made out of the face a tall lean man with white hair.

'Marselle, Perneas I am lieutenant Ord Morin. If you'd care to follow me, and put on these coats.' He handed them to both captains with the gravest of airs.

Perneas put on his coat, but shook uncontrollably as this world's incredible cold set in.


'Yes? What do you want?'

Perneas and Marselle were standing in front of Magestic 3's current commander, Prefect Gondor. His harsh face was lighted by the red lights inside the base. Everyone one looked, were display screens and officers moving about like so many ants. Above them 30 metres, was the entrance to the base, heavily guarded by 2 slugthrower emplacements. Perneas had taken the elevator down, and one could see it from here. The entire place seemed to be made of platinum wire, and people still managed to bring in snow.

'You are not needed here. We have a full quota of captain's already.'

Marselle's broke in diplomatically.

'Ah of course commander, but we were sent here by Admiral DuPont himself. I have the official order right here.' He handed the man an envelope. Though disguised as one, it was in fact made so that if anyone but the prefect tore it open, it would disintegrate at once.

'I see. The whole blasted place is teeming with captains at the moment, try to find a room somewhere that's free. I'm not making special allowances, for stray men.' He walked off furiously, to yell at another officer handling some kind of gadget.

'An interesting man.' Commented Perneas.

'Well, I hope to enjoy some synthetic cocoa and relax myself. Let's see about getting some lodgings here.'

He walked off to talk to an officer who was running past him.

'Excuse me... -'

The man pushed Marselles out of his way. The man went over and talked to Gondor for a brief moment. Marselles got up.

'I'll teach that bastard some lessons about rank.'

Gondor grabbed the microphone and announced: 'Attention all ship officers. The Union has made Magestic 3 a target vector for a fleet. This base will be under attack in 24 hours...'

"It is the First Officer's pleasure to inform the Captain that the Commodore's pendant has been struck. All hands are standing by for the jump to Hyperspace. Harrison reports that the Andalusa awaits your order, Sir."

"You may engage when ready."

Pharris turned to the bridge crew.
"Mr. Jackson, please inform Captain Harrison that we engage on my mark. All hands prepare for hyperspace in 3... 2... 1... Mark!"

At the exact same moment his thumb instinctively clicked down on his stopwatch. The ship shook subtly as the RCS thrusters stabilized its location in space. The ship whined, as the fusion reactors charged capacitors to push the ship into Ether. The Xerxes was almost twenty years old, and meticulously maintained though she was, she was always rough achieveing Ether, but once she was through the horizon, she was fast. Pharris sat down on his gravity couch and hit the lock button. He knew his ship inside out, and knew each bump and jolt before it came. A hairline crack in the third stage power coupling made the lights flicker at T-7 seconds. At T-5 seconds, worn conduit relays on two fusion reactors grumbled before shunting power to the stardrive. With a crackle, power was forced through the Stardrive, and with a groan, the old cruiser was away, trailed by the destroyer USS Andalusa.

The two ship in hyperspace were a stark contrast. One was the peak of modern military technology, the nuclear missile destroyer Andalusa was not six months out of the shipyards. Her flagship, by comparaison was an old beast of a vessel. The USS Xerxes was an old Union Cruiser. Nearly fourty years old, she had once been the most powerful ship in the Union Navy. She had been upgraded and overhauled several times since then, but she still could not match the power of the modern Battlecruisers. That was not to say that she was not a force to be reconed with. What the modern battlecruisers had in firepower, and armour, Xerxes made up for in speed and agility. Not that she was by any means nimble, what counted as manouverability in a capital vessel was still terribly sluggish, but the thrust/weight ratio on the Xerxes meant that she could turn and burn around the newer vessels. That more than made up for the reduced numbers of plasma outlets and the lack of the fusion rocket tube. Fortunately, she still had mounts capable of fireing fighter-sized missiles, and large magazines.

What greeted the ECM monitors as the Xerxes and the Andalusa dropped out of Ether was entirely unexpected by the Captain and his XO. Much of the third fleet was already in parking orbits near the supply and fueling station, along with dozens of ships that Pharris knew had been diverted from other fleets. Most imposeing of all were the Battlecruisers that made up the spine of the third fleet. Pharris recognized the Admiral's pennant on his Battlecruiser, which was docked at the station, being refueled and repaired.

"Captain, were you aware that we were to be joining an armada at this stageing area?"

"No, Mr. Pharris, I was not. I most certainly was not. Park us somewhere and prepare my skiff, let's pay Armiral Lockewood a visit. Tell Harrison to stay close, we could lose him in this mess."

"Aye aye, sir."

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

(Your perfect re-enactment of the Union fleet brought tears to my eyes, Captain Pharris. Since you posted while I was writing our accounts are slightly out of sync. I would like you to write the beginning of the battle, so here's the stats on Magestic 3: Defensive fleet = 12 frigates, 3 light cruisers, 4 carriers, 3 destroyers, 120 fighters.)

A Phylydion Rebel sentry walked slowly down the corridor, his rifle held loosely in his hands. His shift was about over, and he decided to make another sweep of the engineering deck on the small asteroid base before turning in. He walked down the last stretch of corridor and opened the door. When he did, he stumbled back in shock as another guard fell through the doorway. His throat was cut. The guard raised his rifle and jumped back to sound the alarm when a shiny projectile silently cut through the air and lodged itself in his throat.

Silently, Traek Cicion leapt out of cover and retrieved his blade. He hid the bodies and went back into engineering control to finish his work.

As he flew away in the Crimson Tear, he pressed a control on his console that activated the beacon he had installed in Engineering. The ambient radiation in that section of the rebel base would keep them from detecting it until the Vermillion Battlegroup had homed in on the signal and moved in to destroy the base. Engaging his Omnispace drive, he remarked on his long solo mission ahead: To seek out and eliminate any rebels who had infiltrated more populous space.

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

Delta stood on the transporter pad. He activated his wrist communicator.

"Mardyr, are you ready?"

The screen lit up with the reply. Mardyr was usually in Delta's pocket, being a very powerful computer in a very small space... However, right now, he was fulfilling a different purpose.

Delta waited. Finally Mardyr responded again.


The Pfhor corvette hovered over the planet. The captain and four of his senior officers stepped onto the transporter pads.

"Computer, initiate teleport." Said the captain.

Most Pfhor are comfortable in vacuum, but the higher-level officers, not being vacuum-enabled, don't last very long. That was the case as the captain and his officers were teleported to space. In their place on the pad appeared Delta.

Delta picked up Mardyr from the computer console where he had overriden the usual teleport controls.

"Is it done?" he asked.

"Indeed." replied Mardyr in his high-pitched voice.

Shortly afterward, Delta's newly appropriated Corvette soared as far away from Pfhor territory is it possibly could...

------------------
High Commander 8 Lightnings of Tetrik V
Also known as Captain Delta Farron.

could some admin please delete this post?

(This message has been edited by Piemur1 (edited 06-18-2001).)

Pharris waited untill the Captain's skiff was securely aboard before ordering the Officer of the watch to put the ship into position at the jump point. He gave the conn to the Officer of the watch and went to the Captain's ready room to find out what the situation was.

Foster Dulles was giveing the coat of his dress uniform to his aide as Pharris walked in. Though he seemed nervous, he was not worried. He had the look of a child on the night before Christmas.

"What's the news Captain?"

"The news, my dear Mr. Pharris, is that we are going into battle. We engage the Federation fleet at Majestic Three in twenty four hours. A fleet engagement the likes of which has not been seen since the negotiations last September, and we are on the frontlines. Isn't it exciting?"

Pharris' eyes lit up.
"Yes Sir! Shall I call the officers together to discuss plans?"

"No, not yet. First we make the announcement to the crew. We shall run on skeleton shifts until we leave Ether, giveing the others time to rest. Have the mess hall prepare an array of light foods until then. Two hours before we leave Ether, we shall clear the ship for action at a leisurely pace, giveing us time to adress the crew again before we enter the confusion of combat. But first, you and I must reach an agreement on how we intend to follow these battle plans that Lockswood gave me."

Dulles held up a folder labeled "Top Secret: For Eyes Only".

"Well then, lets take a look then, shall we?"

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

In its basic concept, the plan was a good one, but its execution was faulty. Lockswood failed to realize the potential weaknesses of several of the ships, and had placed his four battlecruisers deep inside the fleet, where they could hardly apply the full brunt of their firepower(which was mostly close-range weapons) to any Federation ships. Instead, he had them buried in the center, with the Carriers and Escort Carriers, surrounded by the fighters and corvettes. The ships that would be leading the assault and takeing the first hits would be the missile destroyers, which couldn't stand bombardment for long. Granted, this was only their initial configuration, and he intended to recall them after they expended their Nukes, but that did not change the fact that ideally the fighters and corvettes would be inches ahead of the Battlecruisers at the leading edge of the fleet, keeping the option of a devastating fusion rocket salvo in case things turned sour.

But that harsh diagnosis ingnored the brilliance of the insertion. The ships would come out of Ether Immidiately between Majestic and her third planet. The enemy fighter and Corvette pilots relied on visuals for navigation, the sluggish Union fighters would be diveing out of the glare from the sun, giveing them a much needed advantage. They would have surprise, the largest ships had modern stardrives so they could place themselves exactly on target. The more manouverable ships could find their positions quickly anyway, and old beasts like the Xerxes dropped in on the wings, where they would lead the four pincers that would try to encircle the enemy fleet.

Unfortunately, at this point argument was moot. The fleet was under total radio blackout and hidden by an intense jamming field to hide their true numbers. Hopefully, the ESF wouldn't know exactly what was coming to hit them.

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

"Captain on the bridge!"

the bosun blew his whistle as Pharris and Dulles walked out of the briefing room, onto the bridge of their warship as it sat, poised on the Edge of Ether, ready to drop into the Majestic system.

"T-two minutes till Ether break." The Navigation station reported.

Dulles sat down in his gravity couch, letting it mold itself around him. He picked up his microphone and adressed his crew.

"Gentlemen of the USS Xerxes. This is your Captain speaking. In two minutes, we shall commence the largest spaceborne assault that the Federation has ever had the misfortune to suffer. When we exit Ether, we take the first step in a campaign that will take us to the very heart of the Federation, to our rightful home, to Earth! The third fleet of the Union of Worlds is but the Vanguard of an invasion that will free our homeworld from her Federal captors. What we do here will determine the course of this war! Whether we win or lose is up to you, the men and women of the United Navy! Good luck, and godspeed."

The cheering rang over the warning buzzer as the ship dropped out of Ether, along with the rest of the Union fleet. It took a moment for Navigation to establish their exact location, but that was not critical, as they were not needed for the initial contact. The Xerxes simply drove into position as the Missile destroyers let out a hail of long-ranged nuclear missiles. The ESF fleet was spread out to cover the possible insertion points, but were already rushing to the rallying point when the first corvette dropped out of Ether.

With the Destroyers second salvo waiting in the tubes, the Fleet prepared to enter an intercepting orbit with the ESF ships. The fighters had been released, and were already takeing up positions with their assigned Battlecruisers at the center of the fleet.

The first wave of missiles made contact as the large battlecruisers started their orbital burn. Whatever happened, the fleet was committed to their path. The Battlecruisers would be hard pressed to leave their new orbit while recieveing fire. But that was not what made Pharris feel as though something was wrong.

What he didn't like was that the number of ships massing at the rallying point was much lower than any of the scans had shown. Pharris watched the distant nuclear flashes on the screen as the Xerxes and her escorts spread out to the left of the Union fleet, preparing to encircle the ESF Ships so that the Union could make full use of their numerical advantage.

"ECM, report on the enemy fleet status..."

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

(This message has been edited by Captain Pharris (edited 06-16-2001).)

(Just in case you wanted to know, Union fleet = 3 Battlecruisers(, 1 Cruiser(the Xerxes), 2 Escort carriers, 1 Auxilliary Carrier(Extremely lightly armed, just carries lots of fighters to distant fleet engagements like this one) , 7 Heavy(missile) destroyers(Andalusa +6 others), 3 Light Destroyers(older,smaller missiles for anti-corvette/fighter/incoming missile), 18 corvettes, 22 fighters (18 in the Aux carrier, 4 from the 2 esc. Carriers.))

I think you'd better pray for heavy Vylae involvement.

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

(Anyone who hasn't posted want to become an ESF captain?)

Snow fell lightly off Perneas' nose as he stared in a state of shock at prefect Gordon.

'No reinforcements? NO REINFORCEMENTS? My God man! There's an entire Union fleet bearing down on our fragile colony and admiral DuPont can spare us not ONE SINGLE SHIP?'

Gordon frowned at Perneas, and looked at him steadily. All traces of the savage angry man had gone.

'Do you question my ability at reading captain?' He asked quietly.

'No sir.'

'Thankyou.' He turned around and started walking towards tactical. The men there were
thoroughly busy, occupied with assessing the numbers of the Union fleet.

Perneas stared at his back, as the man jabbered to one of the officers. How strange, he though. Very strange. Union commanders had always been slightly different to their counterparts when it came to planning interstellar wars. They either attacked you completely with all their forces, or waited to see how would react after destroying a single ship.

'Admiral DuPont will have a good reason for doing this' Perneas felt a friendly hand on his shoulder. 'The Union is probably trying a feint to test our response time. Then suddenly they'll just head back into ether. Remember the Earth Scare?' Marselles said.

'Yes.' Replied Perneas.

The Earth Scare had been quite the most inventive little trick the Union had gotten up to since the Border War. On March the 28th, 2601, ESF pickets were alarmed by an overwhelming resurgence in Union military activity. The next day the entire body of the Union's navy, all 5 fleets, were detected heading into ESF space; their target Earth. For 72 hours, men and ships were rushed from all over the Federation to defend the Sol system and Earth. 3 days after the initial detection, the Union ships arrived at the edge of the Sol system, face to face with over 50 capital ships, and thousands of smaller ones courtesy of every division and even civilians. Then the Union fleet turned around, and headed back to Union space. To call it humiliating would be an understatement.

'But there's something wrong here. Earth, a big target, you could expect the ESF to rally for it, but Magestic 3? It's already well defended, and the civilian population is almost under constant martial law anyway. Even if this was another Earth Scare, Admiral DuPont could probably prevent the media from even knowing of it.' Said Perneas, earnestly.

'No doubt, no doubt. But he's the Admiral.'

Prefect Gondor finished talking to the men in tactical, and walked back to Perneas. His brown face was almost white.

'It appears I owe you an apology Captain Perneas. The Union fleet is certainly intent on conquest.'

'How do you know?' Asked Marselles keenly.

'Because they're hiding their numbers.'


2 hours later, Perneas was back in the Prometheus, Marselles was back in his carrier, the Negulon, and once again, Perneas was preparing for battle.

Prefect Gordon's voice rang out over the bridge via his hologram.

'...good, now would the light cruiser captain's please signal that they're in position?'

The Comm officer looked over at Perneas, 3 metres away and seated in his commander's chair. It presented an almost total view of the bridge, from the giant transparent window at the front, to every single control panel on every single level. As could the Romans say 'all roads lead to Rome', Perneas could honestly say 'all walkways lead to captain Perneas'.

He, Perneas, nodded at the Comm officer. The man pressed a button.

Gordon's eyes flickered to the control panel that was not shown in his picture. It was probably right in front of him, but to the people on the bridge it looked like he was looking at the chief engineers stomach.

'Good. Now the carrier captains?' He stood there for a few seconds. 'Come on people, this is not lunch break!'

Evidently the stray carrier signalled. He smiled a satisfied smile.

'Excellent. Now people pay close attention. The Union fleet is jamming our transmissions, so we can't even tell how many of them there are, only that they are coming to invade, and that they are taking it seriously this time. We can assume that the Union will be victorious in this encounter, if all things go according to their plans. We must therefore make do the most we can to disrupt those very plans. Assuming that they are using a single fleet for this conquest, we can predict to a slight degree how they will come out of hyperspace. My tactical teams are beaming this plan to you over using radio waves, right now.'

The Comm officer raised his hand in a signal of affirmation. Perneas nodded back.

'Display the plan picture, override Gordon's image keeping the sound.' Said Perneas quickly, so as not to interrupt Gordon.

'I advise all captain's to display the plan picture.' Announced Gordon.

The picture of the system in 3-D appeared over the bridge. Instead of ships, were square and triangles representing them. Lines of x, y and z allowed the eye to differentiate where they were positioned in three dimensional space.

'Run it.' Said Perneas.

The picture changed. Not the ships though, they stayed in the same position. What happened, was that Union ships sprang out of hyperspace. Atleast, it seemed like it. 3 big triangles (Perneas guessed they represented the battlecruiser's, but was not entirely sure) 3 diamonds (carriers, if this followed the standard warmap configuration) and 10 smaller triangles (heavy destroyers). The fleet appeared over Magestic 3, like a beautiful flower, and soon launched it's seeds. 18 - 20 smaller triangles (fighters perchance?) thought Perneas, and then saw 22 smaller ones. Ahh, those larger ones must be corvettes. Then the picture stopped.

Gordon's voice was heard again over the intercom, 'My tactical officers plan 3 different possible entry formations. These will all be seen. The first is the Enclosure manouevre. This is successful only when if the Union outnumbers the ESF ships by a significant majority. The Union commanders have very few opportunities to use this tactic, so I don't believe Admiral Lockwood will try it out in his first invasion attempt.'

The red triangles and diamonds rearranged themselves so they were spread out almost 180 degrees in front of Magestic 3. In the middle of the semi-circle were 3 battlecruisers, taking the position of the key-piece to the battle. Around them, the corvettes were spread out more or less evenly, and heavy destroyers guarded escort carriers at the tipes of the enclosure. The picture stopped when the ships began moving inwards.

'Since this is unlikely, I have ordered you into positions where you would be extremely vulnerable to such an attack. If any captain wishes to question this formation, then please tell us now. My warning is, that if we make preparations for an Enclosure, we will be slaughtered should we proceed with the following maneouvres. This is the Swarm tactic, and relies heavily on fighters. The Union does not usually make much use of their fighters, the very reason why I think this tactic is the more likely. Their admiral wishes to catch us off-guard.'

While he was talking, the Union ships rearranged into what could faintly resemble a merchant cruiser seen from the top-side. At the van of the formation, were the battlecruisers and heavy destroyers, very open and very unprotected against the wrath of the ESF ships. Behind them were the escort carriers, and spread thinly in between these seperate fleets the corvettes. Suddenly, the escort carriers launched all their fighters at once, and those fighters streamed towards Magestic 3. The battlecruisers and heavy destroyers slowed their approach, and the Union fighters dog-fighted in front. Leaving their most powerful ship's unprotected against the ESF's fighters, this tactic could be a risky one, and would incur heavy losses even with victory.

'This last tactic is the most common among Union captains, as it does not expose their main ships. The 'Porcupine' assault method is used almost all the time, but is almost fatally susceptible to a pincer counterstrike.'

Now the Union ships were not spread out at all, but formed a rough sphere, pin pricks at the outside, and huge Union battleruisers on the inside. Layer by layer, as if the strongest ships were afraid to get hurt, and the lighter ones the opposite. Provided the enemy did not attack from 2 sides, the Union could rely on having longer-range weapons to pound the enemy to dust inside they're reinforced shell.

'I have prepared you for the Swarm tactic, but you're position will work more or less against the Porcupine manouevre. Godspeed, and good luck. I will forward our ETA of the Union fleet to your viewscreens.'

The voice stopped, and the tactical screen remained frozen and motionless.

'Switch it off please' asked Perneas. It was switched off, to make way for the timer. The same timer Perneas had watched while being pursued by a certain battlecruiser under the command of the very Admiral who he was about to fight.

'Come back to finish the job have you?' He muttered.


The crew watched the counter in anticipation. Their sweat could be seen even from Perneas viewpoint. He did not blame them, he was sweating too. He deeply wished that Darkk was here to assist, perhaps the Vylae Warship could turn the tide of this loathsome battle he was certain he would lose.

5.... Oh here we go he thought. God how much I hate countdowns!
4....
3....
2....
1...

Spatial disruptions were visible quite clearly against the backdrop of space. Tactical screamed;

'It's the Swarm formation!'

Perneas could stand it no longer. Jumping out of his seat, he ran over into the Tactical Section of the bridge. He looked over at the screen. The ships were certainly positioned in swarm formations, but there was something clearly wrong with it. No middle stream. Either the Union fleet was more bold than he thought, or...

'It's an altered Porcupine formation!' He exclaimed. Gordon's picture flashed onto the bridge.

'The Union has opted for the Swarm formation, capital ships get ready to jump behind the escort carriers. Frigates and fighters, will take pairs and engage the incoming fighters.'

Perneas yelled out to Comm;

'Connect me to Gordon NOW!'

The man nodded, but Perneas remained where he was.

Gordon's picture stopped transmitting, and Perneas switched on his personal commlink.

'Wh-'

'Gordon, the Union has NOT opted for a Swarm attack, but is using an altered porcupine asssault pattern. Stop the capital ships from jumping behind them now!'

There was a pause on the other side, interrupted by minor bursts of static.

'By God you're right!' He exclaimed.

The light on Perneas' commlink died, but Gordon appeared over the bridge.

'All capital ships, abort ether, all capital ships, abort ether!' He screamed into into each captain's holovision screen, from the tiny radio-only cockpits of the fighters, to the huge 3-D gallery in the carriers.

But it was too late.

From Perneas' position next in tactical, he could see every movement of the fleet. The ESF ships had not aborted quickly enough. Already in a mini-hyper jump they could not abort till they had arrived at their destination - the meatgrinder of space between the battlecruisers and escort carriers. Someone muttered a prayer. The carriers dropped out of hyperspace, and began receiving fire immediately. The light cruiser, being more nimble and slightly faster managed to evade firepower until they built up enough charge to jump again, but could not make accurate calculations as to where, so they spun off in random directions all over the solar system. The carriers, who were specially geared so they could not do this, tried to launch fighters in order to stave off the assault, but it was no good. Plasma coming from corvettes shot the fighters as soon as they exited the carrier, and melted the bays where they came from. A few enterprising corvette captains circled round the carrier, evading the railgun and blasted at it's fusion reactor, destroying it instantly. of the 4 carriers that had jumped, 1 was destroyed, 2 badly damaged and only a single one had managed to re-jump near Magestic 3.

'It must be slaughter in there!' Exclaimed a crewman.

Perneas could do nothing but agree.

As they waited in comfort next to the orbital railguns of Magestic 3, those on the other side of the system were enduring pure and unadulterated chaos. Neutron missiles exploded left and right, some hitting, some just casting halos of deadly radiation across the vacuum of space. Ships spun around, trying as much as anything to find a target to attack, and desperately hoping that the missiles trailing it would lose their guidance among the debris of carrier's and fighters. Machinegun bullets raced across space, arcing some of them, but more just kaplonking onto anything in their path, be it friend or foe. Union fighters, not going out to engage the approaching frigate and fighter group, engaged the ESF without mercy. Using their incredible strength to their advantage, they could sit back at their leisure and fire at the mess that was their dogfight. Whilst being able to withstand much machinegun fire from their own ships, the ESF fighters couldn't. Space was spraying with projectiles, and it was rare indeed, among so much plasma and Union unique weapons, to see a railgun shell or even a piece of gravsteel debris.

Finally, after so much tension, the 2 remaining carriers, now all badly damaged, but alive, broke free of the thrall of the Union fleet, and jumped back into position. While it might seem that the ESF had taken a light beating for their rashness, a free punch on your opponent like that could easily turn the tide of the battle. But in a battle so sorely weighted as this, it could spell only sure defeat.

(This message has been edited by Count Altair El Alemein (edited 06-16-2001).)

(This message has been edited by Count Altair El Alemein (edited 06-16-2001).)

Bug was just finishing giving the message to Mag.
"Okay. Bug, get up to the bridge, and call my cell phone. We'll have to use you as a navigator, since we can only steer the ship from engineering, and we don't have any windows down here."
"Yes, sir." Bug raced off on his five legs to the exit, and took a right down the corridor.
"Where's a computer I can interface with to fly this thing?"
"Right over here, Mag," said Rob, pointing to one of the computer consoles. Mag pulled up a chair and sat down at it.
"So what's working and not working?"
"Engine 3 is out, torpedo tubes 1, 2, and 5 are out, we've only got one turret and two swivel cannons online, and the cloaking device is out. And our RCS system is partially online, but we have no way to stop spinning."
"Right. Transfer all power from anything not working to regenerating the shields, and focus 50% of the shielding over that crater in our armor, I don't want to take any more damage from lucky shots."
"Aye, sir."
Mag's cell phone rang. He picked it up. "Hello?"
"This is Bug. I can tell you what to do to get this ship to the cargo ships, and I'll be ready to target our weapons."
"Good job. What should I do?"
"Stop spinning."
"I can't, the RCS system isn't working well enough."
"Recompensating for new data."
"And engine 3 is out."
"Recompensating... complete. RCS left." Mag used the left turn RCS thrusters.
"RCS up." Mag pulled up.
"RCS right." Mag turned the ship to the right. This made sense, as he had to keep switching to continue turning in the same direction while spinning.
"Accelerate." All ships outside of the Rift would have seen it spiraling towards the cargo ships with fire spewing out of one side, and lots of black marks and small dents and craters.
"Bug, how close are we to having those 'Dark Elite' ships in range?"
"They will be in range of our torpedoes in approximately 30 seconds, sir."
"And what types of ships are they using?"
"Torpedo frigates, sir. Two of them."
"We'll have to take them down quickly, then. Does the mining station have any ships for hire?"
"Hold on, I will communicate with them." Mag waited for about five seconds before, "they currently have three Avengers for hire, at 10,000 credits each."
"Let's hire them," Mag said into the phone. Then, muttering, "This is going to be extremely expensive."
"Captain, the three avengers are taking up positions around us."
"Good. Now how about those 'Dark Elite'?"
"They will be in range in three seconds." Mag waited for three seconds.
"Fire the torpedoes, and have the avengers head in."
"Aye, sir. Torpedoes away, and Avengers approaching their targets... The torpedoes have hit their target, and the Avengers have destroyed it."
"Great work. Now for the next one."
"Sir, pull down, right now. Now pull left, sharply. You can stop maneuvering, now, we just dodged a pair of incoming torpedoes. Firing at the second frigate... The second frigate has been destroyed. I'll give you directions for pulling into an escort position with the remaining cargo ship..."
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Three hours later, the cargo ship, the SA.SC.Pern-3 , the Rift , and the Tailfire, Mag's Phoenix-class racing shuttle, were all docked with the mining station. Mag was in the docking bay, working out figures. He'd hired three Avengers at 10,000 credits a piece, and repairs were going to be 4,000 credits for the Tailfire and 162,000 credits for the Rift. Piemur was paying him 20,000 for escorting the cargo ship in, and he was going to get some revenue from destroying those pirate ships. Lets see, he didn't destroy any Invasions, which counted as non-combat ships. But the Avengers, Eluders, and Quantums totaled to 17 fighters destroyed, with a 1,075 credit reward for each. He hadn't destroyed any gunboats or corvettes, but the Rift had done half of the work on each of the two Torpedo Frigates, making a total count of one frigate disabled, with a reward of 18,750 credits. He hadn't done anything to any destroyers, cruisers, or carriers, but he had disabled one battleship, with a reward of 60,000 credits. Mag did the figuring. He owed 196,000 credits, and was going to get 117,025 credits for his defense of the system. He had lost 78,975 credits. He checked his account. He only had 57,582 credits. He owed the mining station 21,393 credits in repairs to the Rift.
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Several hours later, Mag and Piemur were seated in expensive chairs at a table with various notes and papers and disks on it. A station representative was pacing back and forth on the opposite side of the table, smoking a cigar. Mag had almost had enough of the stench. "Well, it appears that you two are in a similar situation. Mr. Steelglass owes this station around twenty thousand credits. And Piemur, here, owes us many favors." The representative turned and paced in the other direction, after giving them both a quick glare. "Now, we are a reasonable station, and would consider the boards cleaned if you two went on a certain mission for us, for no pay. A mission that shou-"
"What sort of mission?" Mag butted in. He was tired of this self-centered representative strolling about, trying to make them uncomfortable.
"Exploration. We have recently recieved reports from traders that have been far west that several governments and races exist over there that we are not currently in business with. We believe that they could use our minerals, and we could profit in a trade agreement with them. Your job is to travel to the galactic west, and to establish contact with these governments and races, and take notes on them. You will report back here in six months. We will sent along a cruise vessel for you to hold meetings on, three ore haulers to transport any cargo you need, and two blockade runners, for the purposes of holding yet more cargo, making sure you are safe, and that you return with what we want. These blockade runners are plenty combat capable, and you will not want them to turn on you. If you fail on this mission, we will have profiles and rewards ready for several bounty hunting guilds. Do you completely understand me?"
"Yes, Mr. Davidson." Mag said. Piemur nodded his head.
"Good. We will have the captains of the ships that will be travelling with you meet you in the bar. In the meantime, I wish you good luck."
Mag and Piemur got up and left the room, headed for the bar...

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"Thou shalt not be a loser."
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Entering the bar, Piemur's eyes immediatly started watering from the heavy smoke...he wasn't used to this kind of thing. His business contacts usuall handled these things, and certainly never in a bar like this. He wished he hadn't gagged with that cigar nearby...but what would Mag have thought of a person owning a heavy cruiser? And holding his own in a major combat situation? His head swam, might as well get used to it, he was going to have to get used to a lot of things. Walking up to the captains, he and Mag shook hands with them. Then, behind his back, he wiped them clean on the seat of his pants. His face, he knew, was turning green. Fortunatly the dim light kept that from the others.
"Gentlemen..." Mag started, mister self-confidence himself.
"...err...hullo..." Piemur stammered.
"I see you are our escorts, and that we will have an exploratory mission ahead of us. May I see the profiles of your ships?"
Piemur thought to himself, Great! Now I have no idea WHAT I'm getting into...this Mag guy seems to know what to do, might as well cruise along. Why didn't I just offer a huge sum of money to get those station jerks off my back? I could pay for all the damages...and what would I do if my head is on a bounty list? Well, buy them off of course. Oh Dad! What would you think of me now that I've gotten the business in trouble?
Mag continued, "We will be using channel #34 on the broadband for general contacts. My personal ship contact frequency will be on channel #56, and Piemur will use #57, if you want to contact us directly. Any questions? Then lets get going!"
"Mag, may I have a few words with you, alone?" Piemur said quietly.
"Sure thing."
"I havn't had much experience in this kind of thing, so if you would be so kind as to be the so called 'leader' of this group, I would appreciate it!"
"What do you mean? I thought you were doing great all alone by yourself."
"Well, I have had a little combat training, but nothing much in the way of major strategic tactics. Just in case things like that happened."
"Hey, I had none, but I managed fine..."
"Yeah...I guess I dont have much self-confidence in myself..."
"I see...you're that kind of person..."
"Well, I guess..."
"NO! I meant that you're the kind of person who underestimates himself. You handled things very well back there...in some cases, better than what I could have couped up myself...had I been in the same situation...I think. I guess you just need to have more of these kind of missions. You'll learn a lot, bud"
Smiling, Piemur replied, "You could call me 'Pie'. It's just a nickname friends of mine call me by back home. Though, they would be really shocked at the things I've just done. None of them have EVER been in a major combat situation. Heh, I'll just bet they would have all balked and just let the pirates take them over."
"See? You're doing well already!"
Perking up, Piemur gave Mag a quick handshake, "I'll never forget you...ever...and thanks again for helping my ship. You know, personally, you should have asked for more, I was that willing...but thanks for the price!"
With that, he left.
"Where are you going? Why dont you have a drink?"
Calling over his shoulder, Piemur replied, "Need to take care of some business...thanks though, friend!"
Mag muttered to himself under his breath, " Great! Now I've just got myself a little worshiper...why did I just do that? "
He ordered a strong drink...
------
Upon entering the trade offices, Piemur just realized the enormity of what he was about to do. First off, he could fail, and get himself in a lot of trouble. Second, he would be put way behind scedule for his next trade routes. Third, how was he going to manage contact by unknown aliens? Would he freak? Would he remain calm? Would he just bungle things so badly that he might as well join some farming colony to save face? Well, no time to think about things now, he needed to put on his best merchant's face and do some bargaining. At least THAT he knew how to do well. Those ship components were in high demand now. Especially so when the station was hit. He hid a grin. These guys will be paying a lot for this equipment! I will be getting the deal of my life! Of course, all that may be destroyed by a simple mistake...now dont think about that now!
A couple hours later, he exited the offices with a halfway sort of expression of victory. They were literally begging him for those components! He had to call up a few of his friends and use up a few favors. Calling Jimmy Merchantson, he told him that he was going to be away for a few months, and needed him to manage his trade business in the meantime.
"Are you in some kind of trouble?"
"No, no trouble at all. I'm just going on a possibly profitable trade alliance venture."
"OK, then. But I get 10% of the profits."
Haggling for a few minutes, Piemur got it down to 5%. Then, reluctantly, he called his lawyers. Half an hour later, he got his will set up...signed and witnessed...

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"At ----- , bullcrap is our most important product"
-graffiti on the lavatory wall of a major consultancy (from The Wizardry Consulted )

(This message has been edited by Piemur1 (edited 06-18-2001).)

"Weapons, you may engage the Neutron Missile turrets as soon as targets become available. Please maintain weapons hold on Plasma Vents. Machine guns to missile intercept only. Helm, calculate a burn sequence to put us seven points west of the Federal Fleet in maximum seven minutes. Include calculations for correction burns to make it less than that. Standby to engage on my mark. ECM, what is the status of the Federal Fleet, and where did their carriers go?"

The ECM officer was pressing one of his headphones to his ear, and watching displays on six or seven monitors in front of him. Pharris watched on the main bridge 3D display while the ECM officer explained. "They intended to engage us head on, but apparantly ordered an early retreat, as the cruisers that ethered into the forward intercept point retreated immidiately, leaveing their carriers vulnerable. The one functional carrier has returned to join the fleet at a rallying point in a lower orbit. The other two are disabled and are being destroyed. The rest of the fleet is regrouping near railgun emplacements Foxtrot and Romeo."

"Excellent. Captain, we have prepared to engage the engines and await your order."

Captain Dulles was seated next to his XO, but was not paying attention to running his ship, he was on the command channel, giveing orders tot he corvettes and fighters that were assigned to be his escort, and listening to the orders from above. The tactical display showed the orders and desired locations and actions of each ship in the fleet in a 3D diagram, that updated whenever new orders were given. These were supplemented by text and voice messages from the fleet admiral's staff. Normally, this responsability went to the Tactical station, but Dulles also had his own escorts to direct, as his immidiate needs could very well override the admiral's in an emergency. This left Pharris to fight his ship, with only intermittent orders from his captain.

"Maintain course until ordered. The fleet must split to encircle together, and the destroyers need to punch a few holes in the railgun batteries before a pincer will have the slightest chance of success. Carry on, Mr. Pharris."

The destroyers were still in the lead, preparing to unload their second salvo. As Lockswood gave the order, the twelve destroyers fired two guided missiles each, targeting the emplaced railguns and the fleet behind them. The missiles raced toward their targets while the destroyers fell back into the fleet, takeing up positions along the outer edge of the porcupine. The first missiles made contact, concentrating four fifty kiloton warheads on the Victor, Bravo and Romeo orbital railgun platforms. Armoured though they were, the platforms were knocked from their orbits and heavily damaged by the blasts. The missiles passed the three shattered stations and closed on the fleet. The Federal ships began firing their defensive missiles, and entered into evasive manouevers. At exactly this moment, Lockswood ordered the formation to break.

Captain Dulles heard the command.
"Mr Pharris, you may commence the manouver."

"Aye sir. Helm, fire the thrusters."

Four light capital ships, the heaviest of which being the Xerxes broke off from the main fleet, and with their auxiliary fighters and corvettes in tow, spread out in their own direction. The formation broke from the sphere, and turned inta a large umbrella shape, lead out at four points, funnelling the federation ships towards the three battlecruisers in the center of the formation. The whole fleet entered into a steep, rapid descent into low orbit, where the Federals were already busy dealing with the flight of nuclear missiles. It wouldn't be long before the Union had them surrounded and could pound them mercilessly to shreds.

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