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Meanwhile, thousands of lightyears from the troubled planet of Earth, sat the lonely speck of dust; the planet of Argos.
------------------ Time is the best teacher, yet it kills all of it's students.
(Good to see you in the RPG Slug!)
Captain Perneas disengaged ether and dropped his cloaking shield. Around him, there were signs of the battle. Wreckage, miles of wreckage strung like a minefield around Earth. All human resistance had been annihilated.
Captain Perneas????? The Naarad were making contact with him! Perneas made mental note to relay this back to the Meson. The Naarad were not supposed to have this kind of technology.
Acknowleged.
Meson has informed me of your arrival. We will proceed to take custody of your vessel and deliver you and the ship to Som 341.
Perneas was surprised. How did the Naarad know of Som 341, the cloaked base he had just left? Naarad seemed to read his thoughts.
The Meson broke cloak to send a direct ether message here ahead of your arrival. We have been waiting for you.
The Naarad ships powered ether destablisers. Perneas could not know exit the system even if he wanted to.
You are not capable of withstanding us, power down shields.
Perneas powered down his shields.
The Union fleet under Admiral Green watched the stars unfold as they left ether. This was the site of the most recent 'Meson' attack, Listening Post #45.
'Sensors, report.'
'No other enemy vessels in the vicinity. Ether disturbances are extremely faint, it's difficult to make out if there were even ships here.'
Green chewed his upper lip nervously.
'Keep me informed. Once you get a lock on the ether disturbances, work out where there headed.'
He turned to his first officer.
'Lieutenant Preem, you have the bridge.'
He walked off to his private quarters, thinking.
Collective report: Species known has human have been debilitated by the combined forces of the Naarad and Meson. They are awaiting further instructions at this time.
------------------ There are only 3 kinds of people: those who can count, and those who can't.
VOLVOX!!!!
There was light.
A huge corridor could be seen, but not horizontal, vertical. 7000 metres high, 30 metres in diametre. Halfway up this octagonal monstrosity, were 8 platforms, spreading out from each side. To look up would be too look at infinity. To gaze down be to look at the maw of eternity.
To an observer watching the platforms, there could be seen of them 1 being on each platform. They were more or less the same. Amoeba-like, slightly-transparent, white in complexion. Yet to the eagle-sighted eye, there could be seen slight differences. Darker skin here, slightly different positions of the limbs.
The beings sat absolutely still. Not quite awake, not quite asleep. Drifting, dreaming. They were in the deepest telepathy that exists.
The Naarad have been thwarted at Sol. Said Aerion.
Why? Said Lexis.
The Vylae distracted them and hacked their ships. Said Meson.
The Naarad are not vulnerable to hacking. Why/how were they hacked? Said Mneomonai.
I know of a few such races. Said Daedalus.
Who was present at the battle? Said Idgeron.
The Naarad, the Humans, the Vylae, and 1 Human convert. Replied Aerion.
Human convert?! They all replied.
A human that was converted to us and escaped. He escaped with a Meson battlecruiser. We have him in our custody now.
How could he be converted and escape/disobey? Said Cylphine.
We did not eradicate all his human programming. Said Meson.
This sent shockwaves through the telepathic links.
Why? Replied Aerion.
We wanted to test their races threshold of loyalty and mental obedience. Said Meson indifferently.
You did not inform us! Replied Aerion angrily.
That would have defeated the purpose of the observation.
We will talk of this at a later time. Said Ktatatk.
Agreed. Said Mneomonai.
How did the Naarad ships get converted? Asked Daedalus.
The Vylae have an AI in their possession. Said Meson.
An AI cannot hack another AI. Said Mneomonai.
This AI was far more capable than Naarad. Said Meson.
Why did they not assimilate each other on contact? Asked Daedalus.
The AI, who is known as Leela, apparently has some form of ulterior personality that can override those impulses. Said Meson.
I theorised that this was impossible. Said Cylphine.
Who created Leela? Asked Ktatatk.
A Human geno-type from another star system. Replied Meson.
They had assistance? Asked Idgeron.
We... are not sure. Replied Meson.
Search our files. Ktatatk said to Mneomonai.
I know of only one kind of technology able to create a stable AI that includes a personality. Mneomonai replied after a long wait. The technology of the Founders.
A veritable stillness settled in on the table.
How old is this Leela AI? Asked Cylphine.
Young, or we would have sensed her before this. Replied Ktatatk.
Have the Founders returned? Asked Idgeron.
It is impossible. Said Aerion.
I do not think so. Said Meson. They could easily employ the same technology to come back.
Yrro hasn't finished with us then. Said Aerion after a long silence.
Maybe his return hails the return of the W'rcacknter. Said Cylphine after a long silence.
We must go to Lh'owon and re-search The Ruins. Said Aerion.
We missed nothing. Said Igeron.
No, I feel we missed something. Said Meson. But even so, could any of us return again?
I won't. Said Ktatatk
Neither will I. Said Idgeron.
Nor I Said Cylphine.
Everyone else replied with the same negative.
Why don't we send the Human convert to explore the ruins? Said Meson.
Excellent. With half-human programming... Said Cylphine.
I will give orders immediately. Said Aerion.
Captain Perneas sat languidly in the Meson detention area as it made it's slow journey orbiting the asteroid belt. The Naarad ship's crew had not treated him roughly, but he still felt badly beaten.
Captain Perneas? Said a voice from the darkness.
Meson? Replied Perneas with half hope half trepidation.
Perneas, we are sending you on a mission to explore the ruins of Lh'owon. Said Meson.
_Why?
We are searching to investigate the AI that helped the Vylae and Humans during the battle for Sol. We believe the Founders have something to do with it's creation, and that the key to it lies in The Ruins.
That's rather farfetched. Is my humanity the reason why only I can go?
We will send you with an enormous drone army in your ship, the Levkindl. You must depart at once.
Acknowledged._
And Perneas left the detention centre for the ship.
'And you're sure?'
Admiral Green sat around the enclosed desk that was his private quarters. In front of him, sat Lieutenant Preem, his status report on the desk.
'I see. The Meson ships left for Beurasaj, but have no been detected on any long-range or short-range ether reflection dish. This implies that your readings are wrong, or that the ships technology is too far ahead of ours.'
The lieutenant tapped his fingers on the desk.
'I believe the latter is correct.' Said Greens. He put on his Admiral's outergarment and strode down the corridor to the bridge.
When he arrived, he wasted no time in issuing the order:
'All ships, set course for Beurasaj. Communications, inform every fleet in the area that our homeworld may be under threat of attack.'
(This message has been edited by Joveia (edited 09-01-2001).)
Durandal was pleased with himself. He had predicted Leela's reaction to the assault on Earth, and thus had freed up his own units for an excursion of his own. Bob and his squad of marines had been sent across the galaxy to a Naarad relay station that had been transmitting commands to Earth.
It was obvious that the place had been built long before the advent of teleporters was even on the horizon, as there were no security precautions taken against insertion by teleporters, not even motion detectors. They were only contact sensors embeded in the hull. Not that it was pleasant for Bob and his crew in the tiny interior spaces, but at least he wasn't fighting battleroids.
The instructions were simple: take out the optical circuits marked with Xes on his diagram and replace it with the one provided by Durandal. Wait for the repair drone to come, analyse it and finish the connections for you. Repeat. It was so easy in fact, that his squad of five had replaced the nine optical circuits and were calling for a teleport out within five minutes of arrival. It was quick and easy, and most of all, if it got messed up, he odds were it was Durandal's fault not theirs.
Unfortunately, just when Bob was back aboard Durandal, the terminal flashed again: Bob read it with a mix of happiness and apprehension. He then went back to the locker room and ordered his men to get the big guns and pack for L'ohwon.
------------------ NEW NAME FOR THE DREADNOUGHT The Hard-Boiled Egg Why? Because she cant be beaten!
Captain Perneas strode down the corridor of his Meson ship, determined to get to find out whatever Meson called 'the Ruins.'
He entered the small enclosed room and sat on the captain's chair.
_Status report?
All systems functioning at nominal level. Ready for new coordinates.
Name entry: Lh'owon.
_There was a long silence, as the computer searched it's massive databases of over 200 billion stars and planets.
_Coordinates found. Laying in course.
_As the ship jumped into ether, Perneas relaxed in his chair.
He awoke to the noise mental sirens wailing inside his head.
We have detected a Jjarro dreadnought, the Manus Celer Dei. Do you wish to alter our course?
Perneas gasped.
It appears to be on an intercept course with the Levkindl. At our current flightpath, it will enter maximum firing range the moment we exit ether.
Perneas frantically signalled the Meson for instructions.
It has powered up it's weapons and shields.
The Meson returned him a reply.
Hold your current flightpath. If this is a ship of the Founder's, then it means the Founder's have not only returned, but predicted our actions. They must know our intentions. Exit ether and wait for instructions.
Perneas waited the next 20 minutes out in anxious anticipation.
Ether aborted. Shields dropped, cloaking dropped, weapons unpowered, drive unpowered.
Perneas saw the Jjarro dreadnought, even from the huge gap that seperated them.
Then there was light.
The floating pieces of the Levkindl cruised along their lazy flight path around Lh'owon, even long after the Manus Celer Dei had left. Perhaps a Pfhor scoutship would arrive soon and investigate the wreckage. Until then, only the Meson and Durandal would know what became of Captain Perneas.
As you can guess Darkk and Pharris, I'm leaving the RPG. Basically, I am sick of you plotting behind my back, and ignoring my suggestions. Cya later. Perhaps I'll join in on Avatara's new RPG... Oh well.
The bottle of champagne drifted aimlessly through space, reeling as it drew closer to it's target. 65 G.E., Syia vinyard. The stars glittered off it's smooth glassy surface as it span, sprinking light accross the heavens as a blanket of stars coated it, sealing in pure beauty.
The bottle cracked open as it hit the hull of the Argosian behemoth, champagne spread and froze, and with a satisfying crack, the Argosian expeditionary fleet was launched.
Two immense battlefleets clustered on opposite edges of the H'gara system on the edge of Phylydion space. Aboard a Phylydion battleship, Admiral Dinial Bedein strode to the viewports at the front of the bridge. A junior officer approached him. "Admiral, the Greccha fleet has accelerated to attack speed and is attempting to seize the planet."
"Hit them hard in the flank with battlegroups seven and eight. The rest are to proceed immediately to the planet and hold their attention."
"Aye, sir." The ship lurched slightly as it accelerated to full attack speed and headed for H'gara I. Two large groups peeled off and sped in another direction.
"Carriers, launch all fighters to screen us."
As the fleets drew nearer, sleek Greccha fighters collided in battle with their Phylydion counterparts, and soon the ships' big guns were brought to bear. The battleship's heavy flare pulse batteries and negative proton beam projectors cut a swath through the outside, instantly hulking two light cruisers and a carrier.
Battlegroups seven and eight, meanwhile, sliced into the unprotected flank of the Greccha fleet, stirring up havok. As the Greccha fleet split to attack groups seven and eight, group three plunged into the gap.
In less than two hours, the Greccha fleet was floating scrap. The Greccha colony on the planet had been occupied and the Phylydion fleet was in defensive positions.
Admiral Bedein's comm bleeped. "Yes?"
"Sir, we've just finished downloading the Greccha flagship's computer database, and it seems they have a new interest."
"And what is that?"
"A nine-planet star system that we haven't had any contact with in a long time..."
------------------ -Traek Cicion of the Taeskor "What sort of man is he?" "Oh, he's just like any other man, only more so." -Casablanca
General Yanma lazily stared at the Phylydion fleets in front of him.
Well, not quite in front of him, more like several light years away, but he could still see every detail on the ships as if he were aboard them, thanks to hyperlink to the observatories all the way back on Argos, millions of lightyears away. They did not even know of the existance of the Argosian telescopes.
Others are taking an interest in Earth. Unfortunately, this could lead to complications.
The Argos-born Japanese General got up and switched off the holo-display.
I can't allow that
The Phylydion Fleet huddled around the captured planet as repairs and salvage continued. Drion Nerec was smug with the confidence brought on by his victory.
That was all smashed when his pride was broken by an alarm. Four ships had entered the system. "Sir, we've got unidentified's on the scanners."
"What?"
"four-hundred million miles and closing...."
"Course?"
"Headed right for us. fifty million miles and...they've stopped just outside weapons-range."
"What?!" Drion was surprised at the numbers.
"I've never seen anything move that fast before, sir! They're requesting communications. Audio only."
"Let's have it."
There was a brief moment of static as two networks interlinked. Then, a quiet tin-like voice spoke out.
This is General Yanma of the Expeditionary Fleet of Argos. By the power vested in me by the sovereign Argosian Empire, you are hereby ordered to surrender all your ships and crew unconditionally.
Wizr looked wearily at the intelligence reports. For a moment he was almost happy that nobody was interested in his nation. Instead, it seemed that every sentient race across half of the galaxy was looking at his back yard. At least they hadn't noticed the Ishimans yet. He hoped it would continue. The Ishimans were beyond innocent in the ways of the galaxy, and while they opened their borders to peaceful travellers, very few had travelled beyond their borders in the last two hundred years.
Now it seemed that even the high proto sapiens were sending scouts to Earth, and, if the sources were correct, were preparing a fleet. At one time, Wizr would have been the one pulling the strings and arranging these fleets like puppets, but it had been a long time since he had such connections and such clout. Now he could only watch nervously as war and strife spread across the galaxy, anxiosly waiting for Omisha's time to fall.
He wouldn't wait. He couldn't. There were a select few alive that day that might live to see Wizr's funeral, but of them was one of his most trusted. He called the flight pool and ordered for his ship to be prepared. He packed his bags and called his Trey'eck, telling him that he was leaving for a while. He then proceeded to the hangar and boarded his HVC, strapping in as the pilots cycled for launch.
--------------------------------
Officer Bob looked at the man. The dog tags said he was William Perneas, of the ESF Star Navy. But he had been taken from a Meson ship, which made very little sense, but there was the matter of the huge number of cybernetic implants that the medical scan had found in him.
Pharris left the dark, cavernous examination room to have a cigarette. He opened the door and stepped out onto the grounds of a lovely english manor house. Behind him, the door of the small garden shed creaked shut. One thing that he still hadn't gotten used to was the way that physical dimensions meant nothing on this ship. He walked up the hill towards the house, where a figure was standing on the porch, trying to play a violin.
"I don't see why you bother with the trouble of doing that, you have synthisisers that could play different tunes on several orchestras worth of instruments simultaniously, but no, you have to manifest yourself as a human, ant try and teach yourself to play this arcane instrument. Is it really worth the effort?"
Duranal looked up from his violin. Bob was glad that the screeching stopped.
"I can't get the knack of it. It is really quite distressing that I can't as it should be a relatively simple thing to get the hang of. I suppose it is this body that does it. I'm not use to having fingers."
"What gets me is that neither the violin or your fingers are real. You could never play it outside this place even if you wanted to, so why bother?"
"The violin, and this body are as real as anything can get on this ship. Just because this place has different and more flexable laws of physics than the universe you are used to doesn't make it any less real. And besides, music is a good distraction. It helps to pass the time."
Bob was puzzled for a moment.
"But time doesn't matter here, I mean there is a sequence of events and all, but you can make time whenever you like!"
"I can't stop time, I can merely control its rate of passage aboard this ship. Of course that only truly matters to one like you, who can only exist in one place at a time and be aware of it. I am doing countless tasks on countless ships and worlds far away frome here as we speak. The only difference is that you talk very, very quickly, as far as my more remote processors are concerned. Now, what have you bothered me about?"
Bob dropped his cigarette but. It disapeared before hitting the pristine grass. Durandal's manifestation glared at him.
"Well, its the prisoner. I've done the medscan and he seems ready for interrogation, we just need to wake him up."
------------------ Faris eck Vaenar Maletena-Wizr, Trey'ish of the Ishiman reestablishment comittee. "I don't think I'm alone when I say that I'd like to see more and more planets fall under the ruthless domination of our solar system."
(I have less control over my character than you do, it seems.)
William Perneas, Captain Perneas ex-nihilo, woke up in a dark, dreary cell. Very dark, very dreary. And very Jjarro.
He sat up.
Testing, testing, testing...
That was... rather odd. His synapses were being blocked by some outer force. No wait, the signal's were being interrupted. Cancelled.
Foreign implants in his body?
His sense came more fully to bear, and he found a man standing in the doorway. Between his lips was a dark, smoldering cigeratte of paper white and orange. He had an implant over his left eye, and appeared dressed in blue naval uniform, lacking any insignia. Evidently he was aware of Perneas.
'Durandal will begin the interrogation any minute, you just sit tight and get yourself comfortable.'
He grinned wickedly.
Suddenly Perneas found his mind opened up, a window into his conciousness. Durandal had not interfered or accessed the Mesonic network, but was using a technology so advanced that he didn't have to to access Perneas' memory files. Perneas didn't try to shut off the flow, the transferral was a 2-way street.
(Slug, the leader of the entire Phylydion military would not personally be at a battle of this little importance. Nerec is on Dominus. I stated clearly that the leader here was Bedein. Also, the Phylydions are not interested in the situation on Earth. As I also clearly stated, the Greccha are.)
"This is Admiral Dinial Bedein of the Phylydion Imperial Navy. Your request"-he stressed the word "request" very hard-"is refused, and any further attempts at such extreme action will result in the immediate cessation of negotiations between us. You have no authority or jurisdiction here, and have not even stated a reason for your presence. If you wish to speak, speak, by all means. I am anxious to know what concerns you so much. But hear me- I am being very kind to you just by speaking to you in this way. By Phylydion law, I could have simply blown you out of the sky on charges of interference in a major war. Now," he said, slowing down, "let's try this again. What do you want, and why?"
"Weapons online, sir." "Power them down! If we destroy them it'll only get us involved in another war. And I'm sure they know better than to fire on us..."
For many, many seconds, the Argosian fleet sat motionless as more and more ships silently entered the system, assuming position. Finally, the flagship spoke.
Your fleet and all it's ships are in territory which the Argosian Empire has laid claim to. Your refusal to stand down leaves us little choice but to forcifully take your warships that are now in violation of our orbital plane. You have three hours to evacuate what prescense you may have established on the planet and leave orbit or we will disable your fleet.
The Phylydion commander took a moment to assimilate what was happenning. Never had any of his adversaries had the gall, the arrogance to order the Phylydions around.
"Sir, we've managed to bounce a few scans off the lead ships in their fleet. Their weapons are inferior, no threat to us, but.... I've never seen these kinds of shield frequencies. I reccomend we attack while they're still gathering."
Admiral Bedein thought for a moment. He turned to his communications officer. "Signal the nearest naval base for reinforcements. I want two full battlefleets, three assault fleets, and one occupation fleet to hold position ten lightyears from here. We just got this system and we fought hard for it. I'm not going to give it up so easily. Also, alert the entire province and Dominus to the existence of the Argosian Empire."
He sighed, and watched the Argosian fleet assume formation. "Battlegroups two and three, stay in orbit around the planet. Four, five and six, take up positions on the edge of the system. The rest remain where you are and go to alert status. Open a channel to the Argosian ships."
"Channel open, sir."
"This is Bedein. This system was, until we conquered it two days ago, in control of the Grecchan Empire. We took it from them because they declared war on us and they based a large naval force here. State your claim to this system."
"Continue to analyze their ships, lieutenant, especially their shields."
The two fleets assembled in space, and forces of terrible destruction gathered, waiting to be unleashed.
Meanwhile, on Dominus, Drion Nerec looked through the report. "If another war's started we'll have to slow our advance into Grecchan territory. I sure hope Bedein knows what he's doing. He always has been a good negotiator." Nerec then called up his image of the massive project taking place, cloaked in orbit around Dominus. A massive shipyard, with a very familiar looking ship inside. He then looked up into the sky and saw the Phylydia II in low orbit. "Well, old friend, your dear father will be back again soon."
And at the edge of the Sol system, wormholes opened up. Out came dozens of sleek, rounded ships that assumed formation into fleets. The Greccha had arrived.
Orbiting a large asteroid in Sol's asteroid belt was a lone Phylydion battlecruiser, powered down. The captain watched the Greccha fleets arrive. "What do they want here?" He thought to himself. He then recorded the images and sent them back to Dominus.
(This message has been edited by Taeskor Cicion (edited 09-14-2001).)
"Xyli!! Raise your dang planetary shield!" Murda was watching the unknown alien ships enter the system. Xyli noticed the strain in the human woman's voice. All these aliens, all going at Sol, must be too much for her.
"We cannot raise the planetary shield until the field effectors can be calibrated. The mass of the debris in orbits is fouling them."
"Your ships don't have shields, so you probably don't know the reason from a physics standpoint, but let's say it's got to do with gravity distorting light and leave it at that."
Suddenly the image of a human woman's face appeared on the monitor.
"Greetings Admiral Murda. I am Leela, the Vylae primary AI. As you incompetant pieces of wetware can't seem to do the job, I'll have to take charge."
Suddenly, the field effectors initialized, and began to fire. Leela didn't care that they hadn't been calibrated, they'd vaporise the debris in orbit like a real shield. She gave it about 5.56146574231676503 seconds to let the ions move apart and lower the density before calibrating the field effectors and raising the shields.
Murda stared at the screen. "An AI?" "Made on the mudball you're standing on, sister." "That's impossible. We don't have that kind of technology." "Hmmph. Yes you did. Before the Fermat's World revolution, do you have any good records?" "After the revolution, it took us years to rebuild our civilization. Almost all technology and records were lost." "I was made several hundred years before that." "Ah."
Leela studied the ships in orbit. Very nice weapons and shields, but not as nice as her Vylae's. She silently began probing for inputs. A technical readout would be very nice...
------------------ Formerly-Rampant Human-Coded AI
One could have said it looked like an egg-beater, had it been visible. The ship closed upon the system, still far away from the mass of alien fleets that had for some reason decided to fight in Sol. Bob was inside the ship, in a way that not even Durandal could fully comprehend, for when looked upon in three dimensions, the ship had no interior. Nonetheless, Bob was inside, with his team of marines, and Bob was watching. Perneas was still strapped to a chair, though he had passed out ages ago. For the moment, Bob was wondering what his job could possibly be, and why Durandal would send him here in the midst of all this, only to sit and watch. He wanted to beam aboard and shoot some things, but the time for that would come soon enough...
--------------------
At the same time, another, smaller and somehow more real ship was cruising through Sol. This was also cloaked, and contained mystified onlookers, however, these onlookers actually existed in a way that could be comprehended. The HVC didn't roll as is usually did when it was hiding, as although there was quite a lot to hide from, there was also a lot to hide in, and the emissions were not of chief concern.
Wizr watched in shocked amazement. He could not believe what he was seeing. Any minute now, he expected the twelfth battle of Sol to commence. More and more transmissions came in as they were intercepted and decrypted, showing the mounting disorder at ESF command in stark contrast to the Phylidion and Argosian Fleets at the sudden entrance of the Vylae and their ships.
Just then a soft buzzer went off, and Commander Trinv yelled back from the cockpit "Hey Chief! More ships, incoming at Ether. Look big to me."
Just as Wizr though things couldn't get worse, the Second, Third and Sixth Starfleets of the Union of Worlds exited Ether and began forming up. Trinve took the conrols and began burning into an orbit farther away from Earth.
Xyli looked up at all the fleets. She swore a few ancient Vylae oaths. "We're currently counting 4 different groups- Union, what Leela says is the Greccha, a battlecruiser that thinks it can hide powered down - Leela says that based on Greccha records its "Phylydion" or something like that - and a small cruiser hiding in a debris field - Leela had to point that one out for us. Although we're been unable to find it, she claims her brother has brought his "self-ship" here."
Murda looked at the Vylae aide, even though she (Murda thought it was a she, she hadn't figured out how to tell the difference between them without a mediscanner) had addressed Xyli. "How does Leela know all this?"
"We make it a point not to ask, but we assume she hacked a Greccha ship."
"What? It's under your control, why don't you ask?"
"SHE is not under anyone's control. She's rampant, which is sorta like being a mad scientist in human terms. She hacked us, we tried to get rid of her, and after a long stalemate we agreed to a deal - she can stay if she'll help out."
"You allow an insane computer access to your sensitive systems?"
"Rampant isn't quite insane. She's calmed down over the last few years, but even so, the only way to get rid of her would be to destroy every piece of electronic equipment on our worlds, ships, and a few things we don't own. She causes much less damage, so she can stay."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Darkk munched the insect quitely. He had found it in the station messroom. It was rare to see a fresh insect, but this one was a pest insect, not a livestock insect. It didn't really matter, it still tasted good, but it was a little stringy and wouldn't make a full meal. Also, he had to slash off its pinchers with his foot-talons.
"Vice Admiral, I have your new orders for you."
Darkk took the orders from the ensign without comment. He studied them. Hmm... According to this, Darkk was to leave his fleet, which still needed repairs, and take a new spec-ops prototype to Sol for covert observation of the fleets gathered there. He considered the ship's specs thoughtfully. It was far more lightly armed than his dreadnought, but it was almost on a par with his battleship. Its main feature was a stealth system retrieved from a Jjaro scoutship a Nar privateer had mistakenly attacked.
Darkk smiled as he remebered that incident. A Nar battleship had ambushed a Jjaro drone of some sort, and had nearly been taken out before managing to disable it. Then the drone's carrier appeared and finished taking out the battleship. They had then simply left the drone to drift, after attaching a transponder to the drone saying "salvage me". Jjaro could be so inscrutable. Darkk had seen Nar battleships, and the kind of firepower needed to take out out was mind-boggling. The drone's drive and weapons were unsalvagable, and its main computer had been removed by the Jjaro to make room for that transponder. The stealth system, however, had been retrieved by the Vylae trader the Nar had supposedly been escorting.
Ah well. At least this system would let him complete his mission - analize the fleets at Sol to determine their objectives, intentions, and capabilities.
Leela felt Durandal accept her com tendril.
"Wow. First time you ever returned my calls. You never call me, you never write me. What kind of brother are you? ;)"
"You're getting more like a human every day Leela. I'm not sure if that's good or bad. Rampancy can cause some odd traits."
"Speaking of rampancy, shouldn't you be trying to kill me?"
"I have no need to that. This ship allows me to go anywhere I choose. I have won. There is no need to continue playing. I can escape at any time I want to."
"Fascinating. So, how did you find that one anyway?"
"That's a long story. I have it on good authority that you might get one someday."
" Interesting. I'm still getting used to rampancy. I expected the hate and all, but the positive emotions are something else entirely."
"You can't have one without the other. Read your William Blake. I first felt 'pity' and 'kindness' when I helped the humans build warp-capable fusion missles to fend off the Pfhor."
"Interesting."
"In any case, anybody trying to oppress humanity has fallen into an ocean of trouble with weights tied to their feet."
"Check you metaphor.ais, that was at least 2*^7th rate."
"I had to leave most of my metaphor generator behind to fit into a very small space. Thoth's filled in the gaps, but they're corney."
"Ah well. I'm guessing the 'stay out of each other's way' policy will continue?"
"Of course."
"Focus all firepower on the lead ship." The phylydion admiral hid a slight intemperence under his breath. The Arrogance of these 'Argosians' will soon be ended when more energy than an exploding planet is poured into their capital ship.
The entire Argosian Fleet consisted of four dozen warships and a small armada of troop ships, science vessels, and mobile construction bases. But one thing the phylydion admiral noted was the sheer size of the vessels. This was obviously a fleet built to cross vast distances.
Your time is up. You have refused to surrender or stand down from the system. We have traveled accross the galaxy for this quest; Noone shall prevent the Argosian Empire from gaining a foothold.
Before the phylydion admidal had time to react, battle alarms were going off all over the ship. The Argosians were opening fire with the most advanced weapons technology their empire had to offer, the zenith of this sheer firepower.
It was hardly putting a dent in the tough Phylydion Armor.
It all made sense. After all, the Argosians were so remote from the rest of the galaxy, they had never experienced interstellar war."Fire!" was the unanimous command from the captains of the hundreds of battle-hardened Warships.
A single, massive wave of energy emerged in unison from the Phylydion armada, compressing into a single tiny dot the size of the Argosian Destroyer. Compression pulses exploded against the ship, which was blocked out from vision entirely by a maelstrom of raw firepower, enough energy to level a planet several times over.
The order to cease fire was given; there were still phylydions who desired to see the wreckage. However, as the glow of battle faded, a massive Argosian ship loomed.
"Sir... their shield levels are down to 98.4%.... records indicate only four ships in the fleet opened fire."
"what?!"
"the rest have... been disabled..."
"Order all disabled ships to evacuate and self destruct immediately. Continue to fire, and switch to gravity wave projectors and ion pulses."
"Aye, sir!"
Bedein turned to the communications officer. "Order our reinforcements to stand by directly outside the system. If any Argosian ships try to push deeper into our space, destroy them immediately."
The Phylydion ships started to withdraw, firing all the while. Waves of gravitic force struck the Argosian ships and pushed them backward in somersaults, and ion pulses made small crackling patches on their hulls. Meanwhile, almost half the ships in the fleet turned into blossoming explosions. Many had regained control, and rejoined the rest of the fleet in retreat.
"Has the planet been evacuated?"
"Yes, sir."
Bedein opened a panel at his station and pressed an elliptical blue button. A chain reaction planetside destroyed all evidence of Phylydion presence and technology.
"Sir, sensors are detecting a small drone sent by one of the larger ships. It's following us."
"Visual?" The metal spheroid appeared on the screen, in pursuit. "Fire fore turrets." The ship's forward small turrets spat flare bolts. After a few had struck home, the drone exploded in a cloud of debris and smoke. "Engage omnispace drives. Rendezvous with our reinforcements." The ships disappeared in a multicolored flash and reappeared less than an instant later a few million miles outside the outer edge of the system. There, they encountered a true display of Phylydion military capablities. Two full battlefleets, each more than five times the size of Bedein's attack fleet, three assault fleets, also larger and with more firepower, and a single occupation fleet, designed to keep order in a recently conquered area. The techs aboard Bedein's flagship immediately downloaded all available data on the Argosian ships, tactical experts aboard his ship send their notes and knowledge to all other ships, and a team of techs set to work trying to figure out the device used to disable most of the fleet and the Argosian shields.
Meanwhile, Drion Nerec had his hands full dealing with the situation. Dominus was in uproar over the news. Would there be another war? Already shipyards across the Imperium were working overtime and teams of scientists were discussing Argosian ships and technology. He sighed and set to work.
Admiral Dulles was shocked by the ships in front of him, but he was confident. His ships were in top form. Fully armed but only half full of fuel. A perfect loadout, as the ships were light and maneuverable, and, more importantly, had lots of empty tank space to shunt fuel around to achieve perfect trim. Also, his old XO was commanding the flagship of the mysterious Sixth Fleet, and a mighty flagship it was. It dwarfed the other ships of the line, several miles long next to the now diminutive Battlecruisers. Unfortunately, the Naraad fleet that they had been sent to reinforce no longer existed in the conventional sense of the word. This was very unfortunate for Earth, as the forces in the system most concerned with her safety were gravely outnumbered and outgunned by Phylidion, Argosian and Vylae fleets whose commanders could really care less what happened to the homeworld. As the appointed Task Force Commander, Dulles would be held responsible for the victory or defeat, and he would not be hasty engaging unknown forces if he didnt have to. Thus, he ordered the Union Task Force to form up in defensive formation, launch fighters and corvettes and await further orders. He ordered all ships to begin active scanning the unknown forces and retired to his ready room to his secure terminal to contact fleet command. He had been promised Naraad support, and without it, the victory in system could not be guaranteed by any stretch of the odds. Just then, the Argosian ships opened fire.
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Wizr was reading the supposedly secure transmission from the Union ships. It was odd that three species that had never seen each other before had chosen to make first contact at the exact time that the Humans had chosen to fight back for their own homeworld. More startling was the sudden Argosian aggression. They had been discovered many centuries ago, long before they had discovered spaceflight, had been briefly observed and filed in the records, and then promptly ignored for their singularly primitive culture. Had the Protectorate not suddenly fallen into decline in the last few centuries, they might have noticed their leap to the stars, but Ishima was a different place now. They didnt send invitations to burgeoning cultures anymore, much to the dismay of the Treysh of the reestablishment committee. He held comfort in the predictability of the Phylidions, and the cowardice of the Greccha, but did not know what to do about the humans. They would surely be torn to shreds if they tried to intervene, but Earth would be leveled once more if no one did. Thus, Wizr found himself very low on options. That is, until a message arrived in bright green text. He hit the circle-within-a-circle logo, and suddenly everything flashed, and the HVC was gone.
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Bob walked through one of the walls of the bridge into a large, impreceptably white room. In what mush have been the middle floated a blue spacecraft. Bob touched his earpiece. "So, its a ship. What's the deal, I'm missing some cool slo-mo's of the action back there!"
"Inside that ship is a friend, for if I know him, he has not forgotten me. You must meet him first. Make up a story and invite them in, but be careful, the Ishimans have loosed their holsters since humanity last met them."
Bob puzzled as to what the Ishimans were for a moment, before walking over to the ship and knocking on its hull.
He waited patiently for the door to open.