Dedicated to Douglas Adams, the greatest man to ever write a witty book.


Prologue:
Exactly what's going on


Approximately 930 years ago, an insignificant blue-green planet in a mid-sized galaxy was annihilated with its eight co-planets when their sun, known to the arrogant beings as THE Sun, was completely destroyed by some sort of aliens. The blue-green planet played host to an unremarkable two legged, two armed, one torso'd, one headed beings with very few naughty bits. They refered to themselves as "Homo Sapiens Sapiens" or "Humans." These cretans fought eachother endlessly, and made their technology just to kill each other more efficiently. The bow and the club were their first tools, then the wheel, which in pairs attached by axles carrying platforms that could carry one or two humans armed to the teeth, drawn by four legged farm animals which could run very fast. They called this a chariot. Eventually they invented the 'aeroplane' which was a primitive airborne machine mainly used to transport people, transport things made to kill people, drop explosives on people, and kill people in other aeroplanes.
Then they reached space flight. They got to fighting over other planets, and there was a war that lasted one hundred years, a 'year' is one revolution of the planet Earth (The blue-green one) around their sun. One hundred years into the war, the stalemate finally started to go in the favor of the evil guys called the Coalition, who are evil because they wear red. Which signifys evil. Or something. The protagonists, the Alliance, had built five massive colony ships to start their waste of planets and asteroids and their own lives anew in a different part of the galaxy. They did this because despite their wars, Humans have an annoying habit of not dying out. Just before their solar system was destroyed, much to the horror of peaceful races everywhere, the colony ships survived.
They flew for fifty of their years, and the first one to land was the ship "Liberty." Within a few years, all the colony ships had landed, save one, the "Hispania" which was damaged, but its colonists survived and colonized somewhat.

Chapter One:
Jonathan MacArtain

In the star system of Edinburgh, a boy was born, his name: Jonathan William MacArtain. He was a brown haired Schotch lad, by the age of sixteen he was 6'5" and an awkward, lanky looking boy, with wide shoulders but slight torso, giving him a lanky look. Nothing that makes a good story happened in the first seventeen years of his life, so we'll skip that and just say he wasn't very good at math nor at dating girls. He was, however, a first rate pilot and a crack shot. Perfect Armed Forces material, already woman repellant and a born soldier. He was drafted and on his first patrol mission, his wing, led by Sgt. McDuff, and the other guy was PFC Johanssen. The wing was working in the Cortez system, and on that run they chanced upon two Liberty Rogues in wolfhounds and an outcast in a dagger. McDuff and Johanssen were prime examples of bravery; they rushed in, killed a rogue, but then the remaining Rogue and Outcast returned fire, immediately killing Johanssen. McDuff retreated, but the pirates were gaining on him. MacArtain, a born coward and oppurtunist, launched three missiles at McDuff, killing him instantly, but not before a,
"Private! What the fu--" and he died when a piece of his engine flew into his brain.
The pirates took that MacArtain was a friend, and politely asked him for any military shipment information or they'd kill him. MacArtain replied with,
"Colonel G. Renberg is escorting some new weapons from Manchester to Curacao and if you don't hurt me I can get you through undetected please don't hurt me I want to live I don't want to die I'll do whatever you say!"
The Rogue, a woman with a low contralto, an attractive body, about 6'2" some degree of mercy and trust for law's traitors and a great thirst for the blood of military servicepeople, interrupted MacArtain's pleas for life "WE'LL LET YOU LIVE, YOU BLEEDIN' -- just shut up and tell us when Col. Ren-effin-berg arrives in Cortez."
"In-in forty three hours; I'm in the rear guard. There is a gunboat and six fighters including me, miss..."
"Davis. Ariana Davis. You return you your base, and when Col Renberg and his party arrive, two of my mates and I will be waiting. When you see us launch torpedoes at the gunboat and then take out one fighter, you kill the rest of the rear guard and take out Renberg. Savvy?"
"I Savvy. Big heap savvy. What apout Sarge, and Johanssen? What will I say abou--"
"You were ambushed by five rogues, you all put up valiant fights. Johanssen died after killing the first one, the sargeant and you killed two each, but the sargeant died in a collision with his second kill."
"Alright. Who's the Outcast?"
"That's Vincent Rodriqez, he's not very good, just got good guns. I'll give you the co-ordinates to our base here after the assassination. I'll see you in two days."
"Right. I'm off."
"One more thing, you're a friend of the Rogues now. We won't hurt you on the way back."
"Thanks."
MacArtain, now a pawn in a pirate's plan, sped back to his base and relayed the phony story. He was congratulated by his superiors, and he spent his day off before the assassination having fun.
The day of the assassination began when MacArtain's alarm clock went off at 5 AM. He dressed, packed his few belongings into a sack, quietly placed it in his Crusader, and joined the rest of his mates he was about to kill for inspection.
They breakfasted, and since it was another thirteen hours until Col. Renberg left, so he continued his fun. Two hours before the party left, MacArtain was prepared, and sat at his bed, thinking about the best place to shoot the transport and the juiciest cargo on the transport: thirty tons of gold. That's 600 units of gold! He could salvage some of it and sell it to the Rogues.
He brooded until it was time to leave. He, the other five fighter pilots, and the gunboat's small crew boarded their ships and waited for Renberg to leave the base. They waited two minutes.

"Lt. Williams reporting. Fighters are prepared."
"Capt. Henderson reporting. Gunboat is a-go."

The group of naval personnel left, and jumped to Cortez without worry. halfway through the trade lane, it happened. Ariana and two other heavily armed Rogues had disrupted the trade lane, and they immediately torpedoed the gunboat, and engaged some fighters. MacArtain launched two missiles and some laser fire into the transport, damaging little of the gold crates and killing all on board. All the pirates and MacArtain got full cargo holds of gold. He turned to Lt. Williams.
"Sorry, old chap, but I'm a traitor." he explained while shooting at the brave Lieutenant. The fight was short and Williams died, leaving some good guns for salvage. The last Bretonian fighter tried to run off, but his shields were off, and before his cruise engines charged, a Wasp missile landed in his cockpit and exploded with obvious results.
Ariana hailed MacArtain, "Good job. That was a fast ambush. Form on me."
"Yes'm." responed MacArtain.
"What's your name, anyway?"
"Jonathan MacArtain."
"Mind if I call you Jon?"
"Yes, yes I do. I go by MacArtain."
"Alright MacArtain, we're heading to Montezuma Base, the Rogue stronghold in Cortez. We can sell the gold there. Meet me at the equipment room, understand?"
"I understand fine."

MacArtain, Ariana and the others docked with Montezuma shortly and sold off their loot. MacArtain, who by now had a muscular build and no longer appeared to be lanky, was looking over the selection of guns, and was planning on buying a couple Usiel guns.
Ariana tapped him on the shoulder. MacArtain spun around and faced her.
"You told me to meet you here."
"Yes. Before I talk business, boss gave us all a reward for the assassination. 11,000 credits to all involved."
"That's a good deal. What's the business?"
"I'm heading out to do some work down in Hudson, near Rheinland, based out of Dawson. It's suicide to go alone, and you need to keep a low profile around Bretonia, so this can help us both. I'll explain more at the bar."
"Sounds good."
MacArtain followed Ariana to the Montezuma bar. They took an isolated table. The place was quite empty. A waiter approached them and inquired upon their wishes for drinks. MacArtain bought a 1000 C bottle of scotch, and that was enough for the both of them. They discussed trivialties, like the weather on London (Rain, rain, more rain and some storms, too) and the cricket scores (Leeds doing poorly, MacArtain had his money on the New London team). The waiter returned with the ludicrously expensive drink.
"So more on this business." asked MacArtain.
"I'm relocating to Dawson base in Hudson," Ariana reiterated, pouring some scotch into a glass, "and I need an escort there. You need to be far from Bretonia for a while. This should work out well for the both of us."
"Yes, sounds good." MacArtain agreed, also pouring some drink. He drank some. "how long will this be from now?"
"Tomorrow morning. You have almost enough money, I'll loan you enough for a Wolfhound and some guns."
"Thank you, how much will it cost? I'll need to repay y--"
"no, you don't. This is my life I'm spending on."
"Alright then."
"I'm giving you C 20,000. Should cover it. Buy the ship, guns, then get some sleep. We leave at 7:15 AM."
"I understand."
One of the raiders from the assassination across the bar yelled to them, "'Ey, we're on the telly!"

The news reporter "A Bretonia Armed Forces convoy was attacked earlier today, military spokesmen reported after losing contact with Col. Renberg and his escort, a team was sent to the site where they lost contact, and they found the convoy destroyed and looted, with no survivors. The names of the fallen soldiers will not be revealed, but one has been considered Missing in Action, one man's fighter's remains have not been found. Authorities spectulate he was completely annihilated, for he has not been heard from since the attack. More news tomorrow at 6. Now Henry Peltcher with sports."

Ariana and Macartain laughed a bit, the scotch gone to their heads somewhat.
"So, MacArtain. You're a dead man. How's resurrection going for you?"
"Quite well."
They both refilled their glasses. Ariana signed to the other two who assassinated Renberd, Jennifer and Alexander Hutchinson, a successful spouse-in-arms couple, to share some talk and drink. Nothing very important nor interesting was discussed or happened, and a couple hours later, the four wandered off to wherever they were sleeping that night.
MacArtain awoke at 4 AM without a hangover (thank God,) he thought. He remembered Ariana telling him to get a Wolfhound and some decent guns; those Skyrails wouldn't cut it.
He talked to the ship dealer a bit, and got a good deal on a Wolfhound with good shields and the Usiel guns he needed. It was 6:15 AM. One hour.



Edited by - LavaLampMaster on 7/26/2004 11:59:27 AM

Chapter II prologue
The last colony ship from the Humans to launch was the Hispania, obviously Spanish, but a small pro-alliance resistance faction, made of Russians trying to undermine their evil motherland, the Coalition nation known as Russia. These people, known as the Fotoroyh Bolshevik (Second Bolshevik) had built a small sleeper to carry their number of 12,000 people and latched it onto the Hispania before the true sleeper went into flight. When the HIspania entered proximity of Omicron Alpha, it was crippled, the reason was before it exited light speed, the Russian mini sleeper let go of its host ship, but Hispania's engines had automatically made up for the added mass of the Russians, so when they delatched, the HIspania literally spun out of control and hit an asteroid, but luckily they survived. The Russian ship flew off and built a base, but it's whereabouts are unknown and few people in the Houses believe there was a Russian minisleeper, and believe it was Coalition saboteurs, probably Russian. Nonetheless, hundreds of Russians appear around Sirius yearly from an unknown source.

Chapter II
Yoerslav Ilych Mikolaiovich

A young Russian man, probably in his mid-twenties, was a good patron of The Broken Dream tavern on planet California Minor. He turned up in known space five years ago in a fighter of unknown design, a kind of ship appearing more and more often, usually in the Sigma systems. He did work for whoever paid best. A freelancer at best, a cold-blooded killer at worst, Yoerslav Ilych MIkolaivich was a man with an inpronouncable name and a penchant for shady business. He got a message on his neural net.
"'allo? Da, comrade. Pravda? eto plokchoyeh. Vladimir? onh govnichnaya... spesheityeh."
Whenever he spoke his own language he recieved some funny looks. He glared at the DSE worker who was staring at him. The DSE man intelligently began minding his own business.
Yoerslav rose from his chair and half-empty drink, hurried to the landing pads, where the small, angular Russian fighter awaited him.
Common characteristics of the Russian fighters were wings that angled about 45 degrees going aft, then once the wings reached the aft length of the fuselage, made another angle, going straight until reaching near the full length of the fuselage, and the front of the fighter had a sort of 'beak', a curved cone below the cockpit, on which guns were mounted. This model was a Vx42 "Vorona" Light Fighter, with four gun mounts. A sturdy and fearsome machine.
The young man entered the ship and launched to geostationary orbit around the backwater planet. Another Vx series ship soon showed up. The person he talked to earlier. This was a freighter. The beak was much larger on the freighter, (Vx73F "Yak" freighter) and carried 3 turrets. The wings had a much more gradual angle than the Vorona, and the mid-fuselage was huge, to carry all the cargo. The whole ship had 5 turrets and 3 guns.

All conversation in Russian will be translated to Engilsh for two reasons: the Author's Russian skills are very poor and most of his readers don't understand the language.

"Greetings, Andrei!" hailed Yoerslav
"Hello. How's business?"
"Good. And yours?"
"Very good. I've recieved news of a shipment."
"Really?"
"Yes. Come, I'll explain on the way to the Magellan system."

The two Russians started their cruise engines to the Magellan jump hole.

"Go on." requsted Yerslav
"BMM is shipping two trainsful of a new tri-Strontium alloy, which has proven to be an effective and cheap material for ship hull plates. Can take higher temperatures and damage than current alloys. They're going to Norfolk shipyard, and it's heavily guarded. We need to hijack these trains. They arrive in Cortez tomorrow afternoon. Can you get some help?"
"I might, comrade. I'll call Sasha, Yula and Nikolai in the morning."
"Good. Now, we both have money, why don't we spend some time on Curacao?'
"Sounds like a fine plan."
They jumped to the Magellan system without a hitch, but they did meet a small convoy of niobium headed to Manchester, with only three fighters defending it.
"Andrei, ready?
"Yes."
"Go."
The two men chose fighters to take out, Yoerslav dispatched the lead fighter, a man in a Hawk fighter, with ease, and began shooting the first transport. It exploded. Andrei tractored in most of the loot, and Yoerslav got the rest, and both had some salvaged weapons and cargo bays full of niobium. They activated cruise engines and fled to Curacao.

Edited by - LavaLampMaster on 7/28/2004 1:24:18 AM

Very good, The first part was funny.

the russian dude and the other guy will meet at some point in the story right? or is the hole story like this?

the first part was kind of funny though

..........

they do meet in chapter IV, but the Russians appear for one sentence in chapter III

Odd begining, interesting story though

Never hold back, for the memories of life are the true treasures

Very interesting. I wanna see what happens in both of those chapters. It looks like they havent finished.

"Go Neuromancer!!! Keep righting that fiction man!!!"

Everybody run its the COALITION

I know I shall meet my fate, somewhere in the stars above, those I fight I do not hate, those I guard I do not Love

I'll try to implement accents on people, tell me if you like it or not.

Chapter III
The Move

MacArtain had an hour, so he decided to try the new Wolfhound for a spin, flying about and shooting asteroids. The Rogues and other assorted pirates found his antics to be quite amusing. His hour passed, and at exactly 7:14 AM, Ariana launched from the station.
"Having fun? We have to leave." Ariana told him, "It appears you're ready, so just follow me, I'll explain the procedure on the way."
"Aye."
Their cruise engines kicked in, and Ariana began
"I have a stop to make near Curacao. Rodriqez, the outcast who was with me yesterday, managed to take down an armored transport full weapons-grade plutonium, and he's handing the loot he can't carry over to us."
"Sounds promising."
"It is, but it's on the other side of Curacao, it'll take nearly half an hour. I want to ask you some questions. Is that alright?"
"Aye, I have a few of me own. Ye first."
"Why were you so quick to turn against the Armed Forces?"
Deciding not to outright say that he didn't want to die so he murdered a man better than he is, he made up some half truths and lies " A few months after I turned eighteen,I was drafted, and I had a good civilian job doin' secretarial work for a small shipping company. I wunna much grateful for that." his carreer was a lie, "I was in training for ten months, and the sergeant I killed was a complete arse'ole. I don't miss him." A full truth. "How long ye been at piracy? Ye canna be older than I, but ye seem to know a lot."
Ariana nodded, "I am younger than you, about a year or so. I've been doing this for three years, since I was fifteen."
"Fifteen? How'd you manage to get a ship that young?"
"Stole it. I was an orphan, and I didn't care much for my foster parents. Rich, upper class twits, and total pricks. LIVED on Coracao, that rich. Only reason they adopted me was because my foster mother didn't want to go through pregnancy for a child. I stood about seven years of that, got a good upper class education, and one day I had enough, stole all the valuables I could, and was planning to stow away when I chanced upon a Rogue, passed out drunk behind a tavern. Took everything he had off him, including the access codes and activator to his Bloodhound. I just stole it off him, found the coordinates to Montezuma on the ship, eventually got enough money for a wolfhound, partly from the goods stolen from my foster home and mostly from doing work for the Rogues. I find piracy a good lifestyle."
"You're a smart one."
"Yes, I am."
"and modest, too."
"Shut up. There's Vince." She went to an open channel. "How much is left?"
Vince replied, "Three and a half cargo loads for a wolfhound. I've got someone else coming for the rest in a Dromedary."
"Thank you, Vince. Good luck."
"same to the both of you."

Ariana and MacArtain tractored in some plutonium, turned and activated cruise engines.
"We're taking the trade lane to get close to the California jump hole." Ariana explained on the flight through Curacao's upper thermosphere, a dangerous stunt. When they passed over the docking rings, they both noticed two strange ships, a fighter and a freighter, the designs of which they didn't recognize.
"Must be a new design." MacArtain commented.
"Yeah. Look weird. Check out those wings! I'll take some pictures." she did, and shortly after, they entered the trade lane. Shortly before they reached the end, they exited the lane.
"The jump hole is about three minutes from here.... Damnit... my ship's clock is off again. Says it's 3 PM. What time is it?"
"Er, 8:05 AM."
"Thanks."
They both entered the jump hole, and nearly instantly found themselves in the California system, in a nebula.
"There's a trade lane nearby, we'll take that, then go straight, there's the Texas jump hole there."
"Aye. Why did you go into piracy?"
"It looked fun."
"Always a deciding factor."
"Just follow me, the lane's right there."
"Okay."
They entered the trade lane, but shortly afterward, the lane were disrupted.
"sonofa... Corsairs! SIX! Engage!" Ariana ordered
"Y-yes."
Ariana, in a show of great skill, evaded most of the Corsairs' shots, swiftly flew in behind them and killed two before they could turn around, and when they did, MacArtain took the oppurtunity and launched some missiles and cannon fire into them, taking out another two. The remaining Corsairs tried to escape, but another group of Corsairs, three Centurions, came to their aid.
"MacArtain," Ariana said, "we both go for the one on the left, got it?"
"Aye."
The two of them took out the first Centurion's shields in the first pass, and on the second another volley of fire almost killed it. The others launched missiles.
"SH-- BIT O' HELP, HERE?" MadArtain cried
"Almost..." the first Centurion exploded.
"My shields are down, taking a lot of fire, shield batteries ran out..."
"fly out a bit, wait for your shields to get back online."
MacArtain flew off with Ariana close behind. The Corsairs chased.
"They're still firing... I'm running low on nanobots..." a small explosion rattled MacArtain's ship. "Going to cruise engines." he said, dropping countermeasures. Ariana followed. They just barely made it back to the trade lane. They stopped near Califormia Minor, gaviving it a wide berth.
"Take some of my nanobots" Ariana offered. MacArtain agreed with much thanks.
"That should be enough to get you to Alcatraz." she said
"Where's that?"
"About halfway through the next trade lane."

They reached Alcatraz, and were lucky enough to not have to wait to dock. It would take an hour for repair.

pretty good. keep it up

The BAF Drafts people?

I'm assuming it does, they never say if they do or not.

keep it up man. anyway, whos the BAF?

"Go Neuromancer!!! Keep righting that fiction man!!!"

BAF: Bretonia Armed Forces

I only have a few more days, then I is gone 'til the winter, so I'm cranking out chapters, hope to have a good cliffhanger fore when I leave