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Fan Fiction by Neuromancer---Freelancer: Armageddon Version
Read, add and comment on excellent written stories by fans, set within the Freelancer universe
Very good, and hell, you know I read this because I post at least once after every chapter. A lot more people are probibly reading this than you think Neuro, I bet SW and Chips and a lot of the MODS find the time to read this.
@SW and Chips, sorry if you do activally post here but no offence but I don't remember every one who posts here.
@SW and Chips, sorry if you do activally post here but no offence but I don't remember every one who posts here.
Sorry for the wait. Here's chapter 22.
-----
Chapter 22: New Invasion
"Commander, I have an incoming transmission from Dr. Quintaine."
"On screen," Orillion replied.
Dr. Quintaine appeared.
"Doctor, are you and your people all right?"
"We're fine. We managed to get everyone off the planet before the Dom'Kavash arrived. It was amazing. The vessel appeared out of nowhere, just as we were preparing to leave. They completely ignored us. I have to admit, I was hoping for a chance to meet them."
"You may get that chance soon enough, Doctor. In the meantime I want you back on Toledo as soon as you can get here. We have a lot to discuss and not a lot of time to do it in."
"Understood. We'll be there within the hour. Quintaine out."
Orillion turned and pressed a button on the console. "Colonel Trent, please report to Ops immediately." Several minutes later Trent arrived.
"What's up, boss?"
"Dr. Quintaine is on his way here. The Dom'Kavash completely ignored them as they evacuated."
"That's good. I was a little worried."
Trent thought back to his last contact with the Dom'Kavash that had happened an hour ago. He had found himself once again looking through the eyes of the Dom'Kavash commander as they had approached Sprague, and he looked on as hundreds of Dom'Kavash ships had launched from the dreadnought and approached the evacuating research team. He had broken the contact at that point due to the unbearable stress the contact was placing on his body. He had been able to determine that Sprague was important for the Dom'Kavash and held something that they wanted, but he had been unable to determine what it was.
"How soon do you think you can try to initiate contact again?"
"I need a few hours at least. It's rough on a guy."
"Commander Orillion," the communications officer called out, "I think you had better see this.
Orillion walked over. "What is it?"
"It's the latest telemetry from the Dyson Sphere probe."
"Oh, my God..."
Trent and Orillion stared in horror at the image the probe had transmitted. It showed hundreds, even thousands of Nomad ships reemerging from the Hyper Gate.
"Where are they coming from?" Trent asked.
"I think they could be the same ones that were sucked through the first time we activated the gate," Orillion thought out loud, "which means they've found a way to come back."
"And also meaning they have enough firepower to make short work of the colonies, and maybe even the Dom'Kavsh," Trent concluded. "We are in serious trouble."
"Trent." The ethereal voice of the Dom'Kavash echoed in his consciousness.
"I'm here."
"It is time for you and your kind to assist us. The Nomads, as you call them, are launching an invasion into our ancient home. They have grown in power, and I fear that not even your species' cleverness will stop them this time."
"What would you like us to do?"
"We know you have been to our ancient home you refer to as the Dyson Sphere. You will proceed there. We must prevent them from leaving the sphere. I will contact you again when you arrive."
"Very well. We will be there."
"Good luck to us all." The voice vanished.
"Trent! What's your problem?" Orillion said.
"Sorry, Orillion. The Dom'Kavash want us to go to the Dyson Sphere. They want to keep the Nomads from leaving the sphere. I told them we would go."
Orillion looked at Trent with a hard stare. "Very well." He activated the intercom. "This is Orillion. Prepare all available ships for departure." He turned to the communications officer. "Communications, inform Dr. Quintaine that we're going to the Dyson Sphere, and he is to stay on Toledo until further notice."
"Aye, sir."
Orillion lapsed in to silence as he and Trent made their way to the hangar bay. They watched for several minutes as the ships began to lift off and make their way to the rendezvous point high over Toledo.
"God help us all," Orillion said in a low voice.
"I'll drink to that," a voice said behind them. Both men turned to see King walking over to them with a slight limp.
"How's the leg?" Trent asked.
"Not too bad. I've been cleared to fly again. What's the scoop?"
"We're going to the Dyson Sphere. The Nomads we flushed away two years ago are coming back through the Hyper Gate. The Dom'Kavash want us to meet them there, to try and keep them in the sphere."
"Sound like fun," King said with a hint of sarcasm. "Shall we get going, then?"
The three men boarded their ships and launched into the sky, ready to keep their appointment with destiny.
*** Do not interfere in the affairs of Corsairs, for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.
-----
Chapter 22: New Invasion
"Commander, I have an incoming transmission from Dr. Quintaine."
"On screen," Orillion replied.
Dr. Quintaine appeared.
"Doctor, are you and your people all right?"
"We're fine. We managed to get everyone off the planet before the Dom'Kavash arrived. It was amazing. The vessel appeared out of nowhere, just as we were preparing to leave. They completely ignored us. I have to admit, I was hoping for a chance to meet them."
"You may get that chance soon enough, Doctor. In the meantime I want you back on Toledo as soon as you can get here. We have a lot to discuss and not a lot of time to do it in."
"Understood. We'll be there within the hour. Quintaine out."
Orillion turned and pressed a button on the console. "Colonel Trent, please report to Ops immediately." Several minutes later Trent arrived.
"What's up, boss?"
"Dr. Quintaine is on his way here. The Dom'Kavash completely ignored them as they evacuated."
"That's good. I was a little worried."
Trent thought back to his last contact with the Dom'Kavash that had happened an hour ago. He had found himself once again looking through the eyes of the Dom'Kavash commander as they had approached Sprague, and he looked on as hundreds of Dom'Kavash ships had launched from the dreadnought and approached the evacuating research team. He had broken the contact at that point due to the unbearable stress the contact was placing on his body. He had been able to determine that Sprague was important for the Dom'Kavash and held something that they wanted, but he had been unable to determine what it was.
"How soon do you think you can try to initiate contact again?"
"I need a few hours at least. It's rough on a guy."
"Commander Orillion," the communications officer called out, "I think you had better see this.
Orillion walked over. "What is it?"
"It's the latest telemetry from the Dyson Sphere probe."
"Oh, my God..."
Trent and Orillion stared in horror at the image the probe had transmitted. It showed hundreds, even thousands of Nomad ships reemerging from the Hyper Gate.
"Where are they coming from?" Trent asked.
"I think they could be the same ones that were sucked through the first time we activated the gate," Orillion thought out loud, "which means they've found a way to come back."
"And also meaning they have enough firepower to make short work of the colonies, and maybe even the Dom'Kavsh," Trent concluded. "We are in serious trouble."
"Trent." The ethereal voice of the Dom'Kavash echoed in his consciousness.
"I'm here."
"It is time for you and your kind to assist us. The Nomads, as you call them, are launching an invasion into our ancient home. They have grown in power, and I fear that not even your species' cleverness will stop them this time."
"What would you like us to do?"
"We know you have been to our ancient home you refer to as the Dyson Sphere. You will proceed there. We must prevent them from leaving the sphere. I will contact you again when you arrive."
"Very well. We will be there."
"Good luck to us all." The voice vanished.
"Trent! What's your problem?" Orillion said.
"Sorry, Orillion. The Dom'Kavash want us to go to the Dyson Sphere. They want to keep the Nomads from leaving the sphere. I told them we would go."
Orillion looked at Trent with a hard stare. "Very well." He activated the intercom. "This is Orillion. Prepare all available ships for departure." He turned to the communications officer. "Communications, inform Dr. Quintaine that we're going to the Dyson Sphere, and he is to stay on Toledo until further notice."
"Aye, sir."
Orillion lapsed in to silence as he and Trent made their way to the hangar bay. They watched for several minutes as the ships began to lift off and make their way to the rendezvous point high over Toledo.
"God help us all," Orillion said in a low voice.
"I'll drink to that," a voice said behind them. Both men turned to see King walking over to them with a slight limp.
"How's the leg?" Trent asked.
"Not too bad. I've been cleared to fly again. What's the scoop?"
"We're going to the Dyson Sphere. The Nomads we flushed away two years ago are coming back through the Hyper Gate. The Dom'Kavash want us to meet them there, to try and keep them in the sphere."
"Sound like fun," King said with a hint of sarcasm. "Shall we get going, then?"
The three men boarded their ships and launched into the sky, ready to keep their appointment with destiny.
*** Do not interfere in the affairs of Corsairs, for you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup.
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