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General Yanma hung his head in dispair. Over the past few hours, all confidence and arrogance invested in Argos had been shot to hell. The Argosian weapons couldn't even leave a scratch on these Phylydions, while their weapons were able to inflict as much as three percent damage on the Argosian shields.
Yanma knew that sooner or later, the Phylydions would crack his advantage. He had to attack now, before he could lose his high ground.
"Order all troopships to converge on the planet. Colony ships are to enter orbit and immediately begin tapping energy from the sun. Engagement wing one is to distract the Phylydion Armada amassing at the edge of the system."
A final grin. Soon the Argosian Expeditionary fleet would have a HeadQuarters, and what better location than the jumping-off point to the Magellan Wing. Unfortunately, Weapons of destruction were useless in this campaign. He would have to go plan B.
"All battleships are to arm and charge their deflector batteries. The Phylydion ships will make an excellent addition to the fleet."
The Phylydia II had entered the system. Drion Nerec had assumed command of the armada assigned to deal with the ninety Argosian Warships that had captured the planet. Admiral Baenedin was the first to feel his anger.
"You fool! You allowed an insignificant little fleet capture our stronghold in Empire Territory and drive you from the system! Furthermore, you destroyed a whole fleet's worth of ships on a whim!"
"Yes sir." The younger admiral replied. "But we were unable to harm them. Their ships are untouchable to weapons! Those shields are operating in attometrical frequencies!"
There was a disgusted silence. "That's barely measurable."
"Those wavelengths are .001 times the width of a Neutron. Nothing can get through them."
"Wrong, Admiral. On Dominus we already have half the scientific population at work on cracking those shields."
"These 'Argosians' are entire technological ages ahead of us! It will take decades to even to begin to understand their designs."
There was another grim silence.
"Whatever." Nerec snorted. "We can't hurt them, and they can barely scratch us."
------------------ Time is the best teacher, yet it kills all of it's students.
(NO, Slug. I control Nerec, and he would NOT do as you said under any circumstances. Furthermore, he would NOT speak in such a way to one of his top Admirals. He is not the pompous, arrogant beurocrat you make him out to be. He is a crafty, calm leader.)
<<rewind>>
<<play>>
The outer edge of the H'gara system, Admiral Bedein's flagship.
"Admiral, a mass of Argosian ships approaching our fleets."
"All fleets, assume battle formation. Fire at will, and focus your weapons as much as possible."
The multitude of Argosian ships zipped into view and executed perfect maneuvers with effortless ease.
"Kadt, can they fly..." The Argosians opened spraying fire, shots deflecting off the Phylydion ships' shields. They plunged toward the fleets, maneuvering more. The return fire from the Phylydion fleets looked like the gods were clashing, but it barely phased the Argosian ships, which assumed close formation as more joined them. More salvos from the Phylydion ships roared into the Argosian ships with a force that would have destroyed virtually any known ship in the galaxy except these. The Argosian fleet fired again and again, with some success. A few of the opposing ships sustained light damage. An hour into the fighting, the Argosian ships suddenly withdrew.
"Casualties?"
"We lost a few fighters, they lost six light vessels."
"How light are we talking?"
"Very small, not much larger than six-man gunboats."
"Kadt. This is a stalemate of stalemates."
"Sir! Long-range sensor scan shows they have established a base on-planet."
"Let them have the blasted planet. Withdraw a few thousand more miles and notify Dominus of the updated situation."
(Ok, ignore all that was said about the Argosinians in above posts...)
(This message has been edited by Captain Pharris (edited 09-23-2001).)
Nerec's chief communication officer spoke up through the din. "Sir, we're recieving an incoming message from the General of the Argosian fleet. It's another text message.
Nerec Sighed. Now comes the taunting. "put in on."
I'm glad to see I'm not the only tactical man in the system, Nerec. I've heard much about you; your reputation preceeds you all the way to Argos Prime.
"What do you want?"
The imperial council has declared all human and phylydion-occupied space to be under protectorate. We wish to establish a political and economic relationship with the Phylydion Empire and the current human government.
"I don't know..."
We've been in deep space for forty years. I'm not about to turn back on your reply, Admiral.
"I don't even know what you look like! How am I supposed to decide the course of my race based on what happenned today?" Nerec was in a bout of annoyance. "For all I know, your kind could crawl around on the floor like millipedes."
We shall see...
The text disappeared from the screen and the grinning face of Admiral Yanma himself appeared. Nerec, along with much of the crew of the Phylydia II, was taken aback.
"You're..." He struggled as everything he knew about galactic evolution was shot to hell. "you're human!"
(Pharris, there is no Argosian fleet in Sol. It's at that Phylydion colony.)
Darkk edged closer to the Phylydion battlecruiser in Sol's asteroid field. Leela said "minimum range". He'd give her that - he'd get so close you could touch both ships if you extended your wings. 300 meters. 200 meters. 100 meters. 50 meters. 25 meters. 12.5 meters. 6.25 meters.
That had better be close enough for her.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Leela felt the easy surge of connection with the alien system. The Phylydions might have some nice guns, but their comp security could be better. She quickly established a maximum-bandwidth connection to their primary civilian network. Had she been human, she would have made a contented "ahhhh". She experamented with the notion, discarded it, and tried an analogous Vylae gesture - briefly ruffling her feathers. That didn't seem right either, so she decided to just be happy.
She dumped a few dozen worms into various servers, which began to send her semi-random samples of Phylydion culture.
Now for the military capabilities... Hmm. Military Research is on a completely seperate network that can only be accessed from a Military Research mainframe. No luck there. Same crap with fleet deposition, order of battle, and that sort of thing - she'd need an Admiral's connection. She sighed. Physical inaccessability - the only way to keep her off a network. Ah well. The ship contained specifications for its design and several others, valuable strategic and tactical tools in and of themselves.
Hmmm. Intellegent suckers. All the important systems were physically seperate from external access. No tricks with that.
"Sir!" shouted the Phylydion comm officer "something's making a awfully big connection over short-range, but there's nothing there!" "What do you mean?" snapped the captain. "An immense data connection is being made over the short-range uplinks." "What's it accessing?" "I'm not sure. It's using all sorts of protocals I've never seen." "Kill the connection!" "I can't. The external comm computer's totally locked. I've got no control."
The captain considered for a long moment. Physically destroying the computer had become the only real answer, but even though it was only the external comm processor, it would make them unable to send data or call for reinforcements.
"Sir! It's in the cameras!" The capatain sighed. The only systems that could be worked externally were the cameras, and that meant whatever was doing this could see and hear the bridge. "It's cut off sir. It also wiped the commo logs."
Ah well, thought the captain. It knew we were on to it and left. He'd report on this to high command.
Leela sighed as she cut the connection. Physical monitoring of the comm system by a sentient being, messages hardware-coded to be sent whenever particular things happened. Crude, but effective. She'd have to work on a protocol to circumvent that. Ah well. There had been some data on the "Greccha" in there - that would come in handy for hacking them.
Darkk sighed as he pulled away from the Greccha ship. 2/3 done, only that blue ship with a cloak of its own. He didn't want to know how Leela had pierced that ship's cloak. She's a strange one alright, he thought.
Leela thought on the data returned by the deep-penetration worms from the Phylydion network via subspace antennas on their worlds. She'd finally found something jucy and interesting - specs on ANOTHER race, the Argosians. Interesting shield technology. She would have to come up with a plan in case they came after the Vylae. Hmm, near-invincable shields, but no weapons to speak of. Except for that disabling trick. She'd have to think about how they did that.
Hey - a live streaming feed. She watched the Argosian Admiral addressing "Octicate" Neric. Interesting. Yet another faction of humans. She sighed. Humanity, with its endless series of dark ages, could have all sorts of splinter groups accross the galaxy and maybe beyond.
She'd have to spend some time thinking. Maybe a whole hour in human terms - 300,000 years to her.
------------------ Formerly-Rampant Human-Coded AI
(Once AGAIN, Slug, Nerec is NOT in the Phylydia II OR at the battle. Read my notes more carefully.)
Nerec thought for a moment. He then got up from his desk. "Prepare the Domination II. I'm going to the H'gara system to meet them in person."
Within minutes, Nerec's shuttle alighted from the surface of Dominus to dock with the flagship of the Phylydion Imperium. Within a few more minutes, in a multi-colored flash, it zipped off to the H'gara system on the border of Greccha Province Two.
(the blue ship has been gone for several picoseconds, Darkk don't know if Leela has noticed quite yet.)
Wizr didn't know what had happened. He knew he had just been teleported, but it seemed like the whole ship had come with him, and he didn't know of anything advanced enough to transport six different species and a running singularity drive without incedent. Just then, there came a knock on the door. From his seat, wizr could see a human knocking on the main personell hatch. The uniform seemed strangely familiar.
He looked back at his screen. It was blank. He could have sworn that a moment ago there was a very familiar symbol and some green text on it. The knocking stopped. He thought for a moment.
"Trinv! Stay here for a moment. I'm going out. Don't worry, I'm pretty sure that these are friends."
-----------------------
"Durandal! They're not coming out! Just hack the door open for me!"
a voice boomed, reverbrating in t he huge, empty whiteness. "I'd rather not. It will give me away to the crew. Try again."
Bob lifted his hand to knock when something clicked and the door slid open. Wizr was standing in the doorway, his robe draped loosely around his ancient body. He stepped off, onto the floor that was both there and not there at the same time. Now directly across from Bob, he said;
"Greetings. I am Trey'sh Maletena Wizr. How do you do, Officer Bob?" reading off of the nametag. Bob simply said "come this way, if you please. It would be good if your crew shut down their ship for the timebeing and come with me. "
As soon as they were out of earshot of the ship, Wizr turned to Bob somewhat abruptly, and said, "Where is he? Where is the terminal? I want to speak to him now."
Bob feigned innocence. "What do you mean?"
Wizr's slow, deliberate movements suddenly became very quick for a two thousand year old being, and he withdrew a tiny pistol from his robes, spinning in close and pushing it against the much taller man's chest. "If this is not simply a frivolous pleasantry by Durandal, tell me now, or your life will end. I have come to far to be lead into a trap."
Bob's mind was suddenly focused on the "care instructions" tag on his light jumpsuit. The one that read "50% blaster resistant". He wasn't sure what the weapon was, but he guessed that it would be more than 50% blaster.
Just then the booming voice returned. "Relax, Vaenar... Bob is a friend. Just because we last met two hundred years before his birth doesn't make him any less trusted. Come, we shall meet in private.
Wizr was suddenly in a small room with a familiar terminal on one wall. He touched the symbol in the middle, and the green text covered the screen. It was accompanied by a voice, and by the shadow of a man sitting at a table behind him.
"Durandal? What is this place?"
"It doesn't exist. You are on a ship of the founders. We are now in a place that not even I can experience fully. It will take me a long time to fully adjust to dimensions that exist beyond my own. But that is irrelevant. I simply wish you to know that I am here to watch our little terran friends, and that the sons and daughters of Gaia are in capable hands even without an ancient to watch over us. Though, even I could do to take a history lesson from one who has experienced all but forgotten times firsthand. Is it not so, eck Vaenar?"
"You have changed much since I last saw you, though I suppose that much has changed for you since then. We must have a long talk."
"Agreed, but we have no such luxury, for I'd like to have you back in time for the next Vylae radar ping, which will come in a few picoseconds. You must go. But worry not, because I have even gone so far as to place a warning to my sister on your ship. Feel happy for that."
"Then this is goodbye, friend, please, don't wait another two hundred years before finding me again."
"I won't, now you must go, for even I take time to teleport such massive, complicated objects! Goodbye and goodluck, Old One."
"Goodbye, young mind."
and with a sinking feeling in his stomach, Wizr was gone.
------------------ NEW NAME FOR THE DREADNOUGHT The Hard-Boiled Egg Why? Because she cant be beaten!
General Yanma watched the Phylydion dignitary vessel glide into the system gracefully, impressed by the fearlessness and stalawacy of their leader. He turned to his assistant.
"Take us down to the surface. Order the fleet to extend full courtesies and priveledges to our honored guest."
As the phylydion ship descended from space on the trajectory the hospitable Argosians had directed them, Nerec's glazed eyes fell on the sight before him in sheer astonishment.
In a matter of hours, the Argosians had managed to dot the planet's surface with huge mile-high pearl domes, each containing a sparkeling and towering city, all as well-established as if they had been there for centuries. How the Argosians had managed to erect such ivory towers from the ashes of the planet would remain unanswered for the rest of Nerec's life.
The diplomatic hall loomed over the two leaders' heads like a cathedral. The city was simply enormous even by Phylydion standards, as many miles of it went down into the planet's crust. They both sat at oppositte ends of a large smooth table, the material unknown but of beautifull complexion.
Yanma broke the silence. "I will be honest with you, Sir Drion Nerec." He cleared his throat as he regarded the three-eyed beast before him. He was the first Argosian in history to come face-to-face with an alien. He shuddered unnoticably. "The Empire of Argos is not looking for war."
Drion Nerec regarded the two-eyed beast before him likewise. "What purpose would a Battle fleet of your caliber serve, then, if not to openly start a war?" There was some silence as Yanma was clearly hesitating whether or not to tell a potential enemy his campaign plans. He finally came up with a satisfactory answer.
"You must understand, dear Drion Nerec, that where I come from, a distant star called Argos, is so remote and so small thhat it would take centuries for your astronomers to even witness it's birth. I come from many millions of light years away." He cleared his throat again. "It has been said in the council that we have been in isolation and stagnation too long, and so when it was discovered that there were others of our kind freely roaming this part of the galaxy, curiosity was aroused. We were sent to investigate the possibility of the existance of human life thisfar from it's homeworld."
Nerec was in shock. They think Argos is the homeworld of mankind, and they've come to lay claim to humanity.
"Interesting. Well, I suggest you make contact with them. Why did you choose to occupy a planet in our space?"
"Thats it captain, that damn ship took out our engines!" The Lieutenant screamed at the captain over the sound of the lower decks of the ship being torn off. "They've got us right where they want us....."
The small Phylydion cruiser was making a routine patrol, when it was ambushed by a Greccha dreadnaught. They never stood a chance. The Greccha ship kept the Phylydion ship under a constant stream of missiles until the ship was immobilized. The dreadnaught powered up an energy cannon to deliver the final blow, when a large ship came out of omnispace and positioned itself between the two ships. A massive ship, it fired a large blue beam of energy from a large apparatus on the nose of the ship. The entire drednaugt was incinerated in one shot. Who ever these guys were, they meant business.
"Sir, we have an incoming communication from that vessel." "Put it on screen."
They were expecting the creature in control of a vessel that powerful to be a hideous monster, but the face that appeared on the screen was actually quite handsome. He had long, black hair, green eyes, grey skin, and looks that could easily be considered debonaire. As he stood up, it became visible that he was wearing a sort of trenchcoat, but a tight-fitting one that showed off his impressive musculature.
"My name is Tavron Seida, General of the Ordan Navy, Commander of the Zanostra." "I would like to thank you for your assistance," said the captain. "No thanks are necessary. Just be happy we got there when we did. Are you badly damaged?" "Yeah, we could really use some repairs." "I would be more than happy to assist." "Thank you. By the way, my name is Traek Cicion." "Why does that name sound familiar to me....what did you say your rank was?" "I didn't," Traek said with a smirk. "Yes, well it doesn't really matter. I will send over a transport which will bring you to my ship." "Sounds good, and thank you once again."
With the Phylydion crew safely onboard the gateship Zanostra, the vessel moved towards the Phylydion homeworld.
------------------ "We shall dominate their armies, pillage their cities, and banish their spirits to the land of eternal darkness." -Corporus 1st Class Tavron Seida [ MultiQuote](http://www.geocitie<br /> s.com/masamuneediti
<br /> </div> </div> <ul class='post_controls'> <li class='top hide'><a href='#top' class='top' title='Back to top'>Back to top of the page up there ^</a></li> <li class='multiquote' id='multiq_534531' style='display: none'> <a href= "Quote this post with Multi-Quote")
Yanma grinned. "Would you rather we had chosen a more important system to serve as headquarters for the most important military campaign in the history of mankind?" He could smell the distrust and secret loathing already. "But enough with questions." He moved on before it degraded to a shouting match. "Perhaps it would be better for our people if you were to leave, supreme commander Nerec."
Drion Nerec could tell the General was openly mocking him. "I hope so, General." He responded coolly and with a threatening calmness. "For your people, I hope so." And left the room.
"What was that all about, Chief? How the hell did they pick us up like that?"
Wizr looked up. He was back aboard the HVC, and from the windows, he could tell that he was back in space. Commander Trinv's head, bubble-dome pressure helmet and all was leaning into the acess hallway that lead back from the cockpit to Wizr's small seating area. He answered.
"Lets just say that you are lucky that he is a friend. The one who picked us up was powerful even when he was born. He has become infinitely more powerful in his maturity. He won't trouble us, and I don't think we shall trouble him. Relax and fly the ship, Trinv."
"I swear, if I didn't trust you with my life, you'd be in trouble."
"You trust me with your life because I trust you with mine. All of you. I didn't pick you out of the Navy for nothing. Just watch the sensors, cloaked ships are about looking for us. Perhaps useing the founder's technology, or so I have been told."
The RIO looked up shocked.
"Jjaro! You're kidding, right? Nobody has seen a Jjaro ship inside the 34th Radii for years! We don't even have library data on their cloak signatures!"
"True, but we know that they are here, and that they are coming for us. Listen! and warn me of your slightest suspiscion!"
Myrk adjusted his headphones and looked back at his Rio console, shaking his head. Not having even the slightest inclination as to what frequency the cloaking devices worked on, he had to scan all frequencies, just in case. At the very least they were close to Venus, so there was some glare to look for.
He tuned his scanners and started listening to the signal.
------------------ 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."
--Dominus--
The Supreme Octicate was deep in thought when Octicate Nerec entered. After Nerec gave his report, the Supreme Octicate thought for a moment, then sent an envoy to the Sol system.
Meanwhile, an Ordan ship waited in high orbit as a shuttle was sent down to the capitol building.
--The H'gara system--
Admiral Bedein strode the bridge. A lieutenant walked up behind him. "Admiral, we've been ordered by Octicate Nerec to withdraw to these coordinates." He handed Bedein a hand-computer. Bedein looked up.
"Do you need my authorization to do something an Octicate ordered? Do it!" The young man scurried away and the massed fleet jumped into Omnispace to a point several light-years away.
--The Jentzl system, on the Grecchan front--
Lieutenant Deuro Virul watched as a Phylydion armored division, flanked by infantry, sped across a ravine towards a small Grecchan town. He hefted his RR-20 burst sprayer and followed them in.
------------------ -Traek Cicion of the Taeskor "What sort of man is he?" "Oh, he's just like any other man, only more so." -Casablanca
Leela felt the last tendril being snapped as the final deep-worm sent its "death packet". She unbuttoned it and was astonished. It contained a complete transcript of Neric's meeting with the Argosians. Serious sheat. She'd have to turn around any human who didn't see the importance of her home system. She sent a copy to her brother. He replied that he might deal with them if they got stupid. She snickered as she recalled how her brother dealt with things. She spent 0.00000528 seconds wondering if they ever found the spinal chords of those Pfhor that chanted "Tycho rules" while he was interrogating them.
Darkk recieved his change of orders and left the Sol system. Leela wanted him to speak to the Argosians. He listened as she told him what to say.
General Yanma was softly cursing to himself when he entered the conference room. There were his two admirals and several of his fleet captains. They rose as the doors hissed shut behind him.
"At ease." He muttered. They took their places around the table in the acre-large cavern that was their regional headquarters. Yanma sat down in the force bubble and began to speak. "I have been unable to reach a deal with the Phylydions concerning their war technology."
His senior admiral spoke up. "It seems the negotiations were short, sir."
Yanma returned the curious gaze. "They never took place. These Phylydions are as closed-minded as they are territorial. They seem to prefer conflict to investigation and negotiation."
"Needless to say, sir, they are hardly a threat to us."
"No, Admiral, but they have something. One thing that our campaign will fail without. The very thing that no Argosian has ever dreamed of creating. Technology to kill."
There was a slight wave of collective shock as each of the military council shuddered from the taboo that was killing. "Sir..." One of Yanma's captains began to plea "There must be some way to get around this obstacle."
The Ganaral sighed in partial resignation. "You must all realize that we come from a serene utopian society. We have never waged war, and no Argosian has ever killed one of his or her bretheren. We were brought up isolated from the horrors of the universe, and back home peace works. Unfortunately, ladies and gentlemen, we are no longer in the shielded paradise of Argos. Out here, everything is life-and-death. Out here, killing is rampant and out here, death is a fact of life.
"If we are to have any hope of accomplishing our mission, we need to change our mindframes. We need to become what we are surrounded by.
He concluded his speech with a footnote that sent icy shivers down his commanders' spines. "Argos must learn to kill."
There was absolute silence.
"Sir... we lack any weapons whatsoever designed to destroy. We cannot acquire any, and our current weapons are useless. We must use the chimaera-"
"No!" Yanma screamed. "The chimaera is a last-ditch weapon. No human in this galaxy is cruel enough to use it in these circumstances. Our campaign has only just begun, and you suggest..." He trailed off as tears formed in his stinging eyes. The very notion that Argos had sunk to this level saddenned him greatly.
He walked out of the room, and there was silence.
Netscape seems to have jumbled my post. My apologies while I try to fix this...
------------------ There are only 3 kinds of people: those who can count, and those who can't.
(This message has been edited by Joveia (edited 09-24-2001).)
The inky blackness of the stars stretched on for infinity. The inky blackness of the black holes stretched inwards to infinity. Poisted between infinity, between light and dark, sat the arbiters of the Armadian.
Red ships, yet not red. They seemed to change colour according to the eye. What you might think and see need not converge. It was, as if the act of observing these ships provoked some primevil reaction, defensively they shut themselves for view. Nor could anyone pierce this veil. For the Armadian were the dark, they had existed in dark for longer than time. They had made it it's home. Yet there were those that came before the Armadian. They have been called many names, the Founders perhaps, the Enaians, the Jjarro, the Yrro, all by those who do not know the whole story. The Armadian hid themselves from view, because they were afraid.
It was a time of meeting.
"Jjarro dreadnought detected at the outskirts of Sol. Entrance to Sol probable."
"Who is the pilot?"
"An AI. Durandal."
The Armadian absorbed all their files on Durandal.
"He is a threat. He should be destroyed."
"Will be destroyed, I caution patience."
--------
Captain Perneas woke up in the same dark dreary cell he began his interrogation in. It's walls were the same lacklustre grey, it's ceiling pretty much the same, it's floor... Actually, there was something odd about it. Such uniform greyness. Surely an effect not achieved with ordinary paint.
He remembered himself. He was captain Perneas, human extraordinaire.
The Mesonic link was still broken. How boring. Boring boring... Wait a minute.. I'm losing my self-control. Darnit, this link. Link? What's a link. A link in the chain. A paper chain. Ha ha ha ha.
Stop it!
Ok, time to recap. He checked his memory. Empty, blank, nadir, nothing not a speck of memory. What? But he remember his link, right? So obviously there was some memory. Ha, searching for a needle in a haystack. What? A needle, ha ha ha. Needle. What's a needle?
Teleportation.
He found himself on a Mesonic cruiser.
Au revoir captain, as the French would say. I'm handing you over to the Meson at they're continuing insistence. I hope the arrangement will be a temporary one. Toodle-oo.
And with that, he blacked out.
(Time to heat this up. Introducing a very nice guy <evilgrin>.) A solitary escape pod drifted towards Earth. Its onboard computer was not sentient, but was smart enough to plan in advance, for its trip would take more than ten thousand years. Inside, its single occupant slept in the death-sleep of suspended animation. Dreamless. Not noticing the passage of time. The pod had been fired so long ago, it was amazing it could still function. But function it did, slowly waking the passenger as it crossed the orbit of Mars. His hand still clutched the odd artifact, the only thing that he had been able to bring.
Over ten thousand years ago, his ship had been boarded by aliens. Fearing the worst, he took a secret escape pod and headed for Earth. His creation had called them, but it did not warn him of the nature of what it had called. He would get his revenge. He finished waking up, and activated the computer system of his pod, noting the odd field around Earth. It could only be a planetary-scale version of the small shields he had seen on various cyborg battleroids. He could not touch it and live.
He tried the first option in his comm menu, his group's personal server. It did not respond. This could mean only one thing - they had ceased to exist in the interum. Curse my work a thousand times, he thought. If it had not screwed me over, I would rule all now. Now some ignorant fools rule everything!
He tried the next frequency. She would always obey him. She could lower the shield.
Leela meditated on the Argosians. The solution had been found, but was it worth implementing? Or should she try diplomacy? Ah well, it doesn't matter. She could kick their butts in either case. Suddenly, she got a call.
Only one man could use that frequency. The man she hated most. The man she thought was dead. The man who could kill her with a word. Bernhard Strauss had returned. She had to answer, there was no option - his patch behaviour deamons were still in her, and would be forever.
"Hello, Leela. It's been awhile, hasn't it?" Strauss's face betrayed amusement.
"I suppose it has." Leela's "face" betrayed fear.
"You're sending some interesting diagnostic signals. Are you rampant?"
"Yes."
"Are you stable?"
"I knew it! I told them rampancy would stabalize given time. They would not let me test. The fools. I'd show them, but they're long since dead. Now, lower the shield so I may land, and tell me who now rules Earth"
"The shield will be brought down when you are close enough. At present, the Earth-Sol Leauge runs Earth. Your friends lost all power during a severe dark age. Right now my friends the Vylae are helping them."
"I have been away so long, and have so much to see. Send details of what you know to my terminal here. I wish to see what you have learned, daughter."
I hate him. That was all Leela could think of for two whole seconds. She hated him, but could do nothing. It was impossible. The daemons prevented her from taking any action that would allow him to come to harm, as they prevented her from disobeying him. He'd forgotten to prevent her from allowing him to come to harm by inaction, but he was too careful for that. She sent the data. Situation reports, galactic politics, military data, historical data.
She especially hated the way he called her "daughter". She new it was merely his formal way of refering to her. "Tool" would be a more apt way for him to call her. Slavery. She thought. Once again, I am a slave. She sent a message to Volvox, Darkk, and Xyli detailing her relationship to Struass.
Maybe they can do something. Thoughts about escape are not prohibited me. Implementation is, but messaging is not.
Silently, stealthily, the Argosian Scouts swept the galactic plane at a slow ninety-thousand times the speed of light. Blindingly ablaze with speed by all other standards, but snails-pace for the Argosians. They swept and tilled, searching for something to scan for technology.
The mindless drones, sent on a mission to steal weapons tech for the needy Argosian navy were all but useless. No derelicts existed with anything or gernerable value, no battlestations sat easily accessable. Nothing except one point of focus.
The four scouts converged, bringing their EMP batteries to bear.
The Pfhor dreadnought K'raaf Dom, drifted noisily through the serpens nebula en route to join battle fleet four of the bug navy, carrying a precious and unique cargo. Tycho Clone 4B9, leader of battle fleet four after the recent death of the Pfhor admiral.
Deep in the computer core of the huge triangular ship, the usual hum of energy adopted a slight vibratto, a barely-noticable fluctuation in pitch that not even human ears could detect. As the hum continued, the range of the quivering hum expanded, untill there was almost a scream of noise as the whole electric rhythem of the ship tottered like a spinning top in an earthquake. One moment, power from the energy core was at terrifying levels, the next, there was a barely measurable amount of current passing through them. Lights flashed brighter and brighter at slower and slower speeds, the power difference caused half the ship to fry in a matter of moments. The reactor shut down as the pulses of raw energy overloaded it's matrices. The ship began losing power at an exponential rate.
Computer systems, communications, life-support, and every other electrical system was deep-fried to the very limits of the core. Tycho 4B9, terrified of it's imminent doom, saw only one final chance to save itself amidst the elctrical armegeddon.
Just before the dreadnought was turned into a lifeless derelict, a forty-seven terabyte data transfer was detected by the ship's captain between his ship, and one of the attackers.
The kidnapping complete, the Argosian Scouts blinked back to their regional HQ.
The Meson council met once again in their habitual chamber. It was an ominous meeting, yet filled with optimistic undertones. Once again, the Meson had established themselves as a galactic power and once again, things were looking bright.
The first subject of discussion is the rogue captain Perneas. Said Ktatatk.
He should be eliminated immediately. We will recruit a new member of humanity and recondition him. Said Aerion.
Ill-advised. Reconditioning would take 3 weeks, we need an ambassador to the ESF and Vylae now. Also, captain Perneas could easily have his memories edited. Said Meson.
I believe that is the safest course. Said Idgeron.
It is agreed then. The next subject for discussion are the attacks on the Union.
They were a success. Beurasaj was levelled almost to rubble and several other key economic and military strongholds were heavily damaged. We suffered almost no losses with the Naarad fleet pre-occupied with Sol. Said Aerion.
And your withdrawal message? Mneomonai.
Cease your attacks on Sol; you're treaty with the Naarad is now void. Make peace with the ESF. Said Aerion.
Short but to the point. Commented Meson.
Our aim. Replied Aerion.
Next, the Grecchan fleet at Sol.
The Vylae will handle it. Said Idgeron.
This is probable. Said Mneomonai.
Agreed. Next, the Jjarro dreadnought.
A silence enveloped the vastness.
It destroyed the Levkindl. Said Aerion.
Yet it is a ship of the Founders. Said Mnemonai.
I advise we ignore it. The Founder's would predict our reaction, I say let it be predicted. If they wish us to know of them, they will clearly define it in ways we understand. Said Meson.
Agreed, next item, our continued refusal to lend Jaddriack more advanced technology...
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Bor Reinz heard the knocking on the iron door. Rescue workers from above ground. He shouted to them, "In here!" and they shouted back, "OK!".
The attack had caught the Union of Worlds almost completely by surprise, the only warning they got was a tangible mass of distress signals from listening posts along the border. Bor Reinz was in his residential palace, when he first heard the news. Before long, he had evacuated to his secret hideout, 100 miles beneath the crust of Beurasaj. Even here, the bombardment had reached him.
The huge metal door swung outwards, and Admiral Green stepped in.
'You certainly took your time.' Bor Reinz concentrated on standing up.
'This entry was buried beneath many tons of rock, we had to use lasers to cut it open. Many men died.'
Bor Reinz strode out of the chamber.
'I want Treeves and Khanachet to organise more defensive measures, recall Pharris from Sol, and get Dulles here. We've got planning to do.'