1:
He walked down the sterile white corridor of Freeport 4 pouring over the latest reports on pirate activity in Liberty space that he had ‘acquired’ from one of his rather shady contacts in the Liberty Navy.
In his mind, he knew there was something amiss, something awry, while he was avoiding other people in the crowded corridor of the Zoner station.
These reports he had received were labelled ‘Top Secret’, and if Navy Intelligence ever found out about this leak, his contact would definitely be ‘questioned’ on the nearest Liberty cruiser. The information in the report showed that pirate activity had decreased everywhere around Liberty, with the exception of Buffalo Base; a heavily fortified rouge stronghold in the New York Badlands that very few civilians even knew existed. The Navy and Police forces did not usually delve that deep into the dark violet cloud at the bottom of the system. DragonBorn had also found a rather strange intra-system jump-hole that started near the Texas Jump Gate, and spat him back out him near Zone 21, a heavily fortified area guarded by the Liberty Navy. After testing the jump-hole, DragonBorn could barely return through it before a Navy patrol cruised past, searching for any intruders.

As he neared the watering hole on Freeport 4, DragonBorn was surprised to see the doors that were the bars only entrance was closed. To his recollection, the bar was supposed to be open at this time, and there was a small crowd milling around near the entrance.
He questioned a bearded man on what had happened, and he replied in an accent that was clearly Bretonian.
The man replied a negative; he too was puzzled about what was happening inside
“It was like this when I got here.” The man paused for a breath “although… there was some horrid, almost beastly noises emanating from inside" he responded.
DragonBorn had decided that there was no time, and took matters into his own hands. He produced a pulse door breaker, illegal in Liberty at the time, due to its ability to open any blast door given the correct amount of time. He had 'liberated' it from a Navy officer after a scuffle with pirates turned violent. He walked up to the door, placing the device on the seam where the double doors came together, activating it and in a few seconds there was a loud screeching, coming from gears not often, or oiled for that matter. As the doors heaved open, the curious crowd was greeted with a scene would make hardened police officers gasp and less strong men retch; which is exactly what many started doing. Inside the bar was at least 20 or more horribly mutilated bodies, including the bartender, who was slumped over the counter, a vibroblade protruding from his back. In the middle of all this stood a man, no, not a man DragonBorn thought, but a demon, complete with a feverish light in his eyes, not dissimilar to medieval descriptions of possessed individuals.
A commotion in the crowd spread, like a wave, as people began exclaiming the lord’s name in vain.

Staggering, as if drunk, the mystery ‘demon’ started toward the crowd, then suddenly, he collapsed onto the floor, crimson blood pouring from his gaping mouth. DragonBorn quickly rushed forward through the gawking rabble, producing an advanced medical scanner, another tool he had ‘liberated’ from the Liberty Navy. Flicking a set of switches, DragonBorn began to scan the corpse in front of him. He comprehended the readout, then turning toward the crowd, whose jaws were slack on the floor.
”Cardimine withdrawal, Poor bastard went mad trying to find the drug which could sustain his existence, unfortunately, these innocent folks got in the way.”

DragonBorn thought to himself, wondering why such a man, so dependant on the narcotic, did not simply make haste to the nearest criminal base in this or nearby systems. But this was none of his business anyway.
He pushed the button for the intercom, calling in Liberty’s Finest, who would surely be interested in something like this. Let the authorities take care of it; he thought as he headed back toward the hangar bay which contained his pride and joy.

When the doors of the hangar bay opened a sight which chilled his blood awaited him. There, surrounding his ship was 15 daggers, light fighter of the border worlds, and 3 stilettos, the main workhorse in the Outcast’s fleets, both were swift, fast and deadly, and all were aiming directly at his one-of-a-kind fighter. He had built it himself, from blueprints found while hacking into Liberty's databases on Manhattan. The design was definitely not conservative; 4 engines, two stacked on top of each other, with two engines on either side of the cockpit, a wing between the engines and the cockpit, and one below the bottom engines, the main controlling surface. On the back, behind the cockpit, the body sloped down into a oval-shaped tail. Originally it had been designed with a jump drive, but that had not yet been developed, so instead, he had increased the size of the reactor, gaining an output 2 times more powerful than a standard titan class generator, as the weapons used on it would need the extra power to operate at peak efficiency.

But even the most advanced armour and shields could not save his unique ship from the devastating force in front of him, all with pilots whose trigger fingers were scarred with a permanent rash, all eager to blast his ship into oblivion. Without its shields, the ship would disintegrate under the red-hot barrage of destructive energy. DragonBorn quickly pulled out a remote control, allowing him limited control over the systems on-board. He activated the shields, and ran towards his ship, frantically trying to open the small tinted glass canopy, which, with a whine of hydraulic systems did so, and he leaped for it, the Outcasts beginning to unleash a hail of fire at his small fighter. Frantically pushing another button on the remote control, DragonBorn instructed the on-board computer to 'eliminate' any threat to its well being, or its pilot. Molten plasma and metallic bolts emanated from the hangar, as the outcasts were scattered, and Dragonborn began firing his ship’s cannons, which were codenamed 'Azure Fire' for some reason. Stunned, the Outcasts tried to flee, but the advanced firepower contained in DragonBorn’s ship proved too much for them.

DragonBorn began to contemplate the day’s events; the man in the bar, now a gaggle of Outcasts waiting for him outside Freeport 4… There was some connection, but he dismissed it as a coincidence. He set his course for the old Magellan to New York jump gate, activating his advanced cruise and instructing his neural interface to alert him when he arrived, or if hostiles were detected. It was not in his nature to run, but his ship had one terrible weakness. The shield technology, while it may have been advanced for its class, was still vulnerable. A couple of fully armed sabres could still take him down easily, with very little casualties. DragonBorn sat back and relaxed, relishing the quiet, but little did he know this would be on of the last times he would be able to relax for awhile...


-:-
God is dead, and no-one cares.

man, there's so much detail there, are you sure your not a professional writer?

Edited by - Dragonborn on 2/8/2005 5:47:13 AM

must thank you for those comments db... and no, i was just a damn good english student.

2:
The Moldova cloud was a hostile place, even for the most skilled pilots, as the radiation could render most ships crippled within moments.
Thus it would be a surprise if anyone had gone far enough into the cloud to find a lone Anubis floating there, perpetually staring at the glowing gateway into the void beyond.
With corsair ships scattered around, one might’ve thought it was another derelict tomb, if it wasn’t for the running lights.
The pilot, one known only as Arania, was getting impatient.
'Where are they?' he muttered, staring at the unknown jump hole.
The golden bird on his shoulder ruffled her feathers, sending a shower of red dust floating around the 0-G cockpit.
He leant forward, scanning the scanner register, but there was nothing on the list apart from the hole and about 20 dead corsair fighters.
'Why aren’t they here?' he muttered again, easing the ship towards the hole.
'Maybe they know you're here' Whispered the Phoenix, obviously distressed.
He glanced at the bird, fully taking in her glowing form, and noticing the ruffled feathers.
'Ara, you can calm down' He said soothingly to her 'There's nothing here'
'Then can we go?' she asked.
As a response, he turned the ship around and flew out of the cloud.
A chatter of radio conversation greeted him, as he heard the Corsair fleet organising the next shipment to the omegas to organise their attack on Rhineland.
We'll have to stay on Crete for a few days; he thought.
Another thought fluttered into his head, a thought not his own;
Just as soon as we can get away from these corsairs as soon as possible, I don’t like them staring at me…
He chucked at his dæmon's message, remembering all too well the Corsair's curiosity with Araminta the last time they were on a Corsair base.
'This is Order Theta one dash one, requesting permission to land' he transmitted to the docking ring.
”Roger that” came the robotic reply “you have permission to land.”
Deftly manoeuvring the fighter into the ring, he flew down to the Corsair home world, with the Anubis auto-piloted down, and landing with a thump.
He was quite surprised when he heard the next thing over his radio.
”Order Theta One dash One, Get out of that ship, you are under arrest”
Six corsairs came into view, one holding a massive bazooka-like Salamanca cannon.
'Well, good morning to you too' He said sarcastically, and Araminta chuckled slightly.

Arania looked around at the 8 guns pointed at him, his face was blank, as though this happened to him all the time. And, as such, the corsairs holding the guns were surprised that he didn't show any fear.
”So,” he began, “What am I under arrest for this time?”
The corsair holding the Salamanca stepped forward, holding a Glowing Dom'Kavash Artefact.
”You have been found guilty of robbing the graves of the Fallen Children” she said.
Arania looked at her; mentally taking a note that she was female.
She aimed the Salamanca at his head and asked: “So, will you come quietly?”
The words stirred something inside the young Arania, wincing in pain; he put pressure on a mysterious scar on his neck, a scar that was inconspicuous, abnormal, and anything but ordinary.
Breathing slowly, he answered her.
”No…”
”Prepare to die” was the response.
They didn’t even have a chance to start shooting.
A large neutron blast came from the Reaper mounted on Arania's ship, vaporising 4 Corsairs, quick as lightning, a long blade slipped out of Arania's robe-like flight suit and was sent flying at another corsair.
Two more fell as they were shot, matrix-style, by a concealed pistol.
The female corsair barely had time to react before she was on the ground, held there uncomfortably by the large Salamanca Cannon held on her back.
”No” he said, before knocking her unconscious.
Two Titans were approaching the pad, and Arania dashed to his ship.
The Anubis blasted away from the pad, fortunatley, and the Titan's pilots didn’t notice the bodies until the Anubis was long gone.
”Okay, I now officially hate Corsairs” Arania said, desperately trying to activate the cloaking device on his ship.
Araminta sat at the helm, using her golden beak to tap into the computer where she wanted the ship to go.
A loud blast shook the ship as three Legionnaires opened fire on the Order ship.
Arania punched the cloaking systems in desperation, trying to save the valuable information he had retrieved from that Corsair.
As if on cue, the cloak kicked in, just as Arania's ship entered the Omicron Theta jump hole
”Lets hope the Zoners don’t mind phoenixes” Araminta said, as they approached Freeport 9.
”Or Nomads” Arania replied.


-:-
God is dead, and no-one cares.

just a small question, how many people read the original "a new RPG"?

-:-
God is dead, and no-one cares.

no clue how many people read, i'd say 10+.hopefully.

This is really good...very captivating, very well written. I'm on the edge of my seat.
Good job Love Shark

3-5 heads are better than one.

-:-
God is dead, and no-one cares.

But wait, there's more!

3:

Six Years Ago

Major Gunter Waalbeck watched omni-present night sky of New Berlin anxiously. After all, it wasn't often that you were shown your nation's biggest secret. He heard clattering boots on the tarmac. The commodore walked briskly towards him, rubbing his hands in anticipation, or was it because it was so cold? Waalbeck didn't know; he was too excited to think straight. The commodore signalled to him, and Waalbeck moved off towards his ship and began pre-flight checks.
"Major Waalbeck, please follow me immediately, stay close" snapped the Commodore over the com-link.
Slowly, Waalbeck's Valkrye lifted off the ground and moved gracefully into the inky black sky.

--Six hours later--

Soon after leaving, the two man flight had cloaked and sped towards the Frankfurt system in silence. Waalbeck wasn't really familiar with this system, for some reason it gave him a bad feeling...maybe because just one more system forward marked the centre of the Crow Nebula, and the site of the worst ever defeat of the Rheinland Imperial Navy by the hands of guerrilla GMG forces. He shook these defeatist thoughts from his head and concentrated further. Their invisible flight took them to a large, odd brown nebula to the left of Planet Holstein. They disappeared within...no one noticed, the traders going on with their daily business. Suddenly they came to a strange clearing in the nebula, it was still misty but the clouds seemed to have been cleared away...as if in preparation for a base... to reveal a huge minefield… the commodore took him through a very, very tight path and Waalbeck had some very close encounters with the spiky devils. Eventually they made it to a clear zone. The commodore's voiced snapped back on to the comm. link, though it wasn’t directed at Waalbeck.
"Sunray minor, Sunray minor this is Iron Hammer code force three." Waalbeck raised an eyebrow...who was he talking to?
Suddenly there was a flash and in front of him was a Rheinland Cruiser, with several flights of Valkryes uncloaking all at once. Then a red and blue flash and a jump hole appeared. The commodore seemed slightly pleased.
"Major you are about to see what very few have for the past 200 years" Waalbeck tried to reply but the commodore silenced him and they moved into the jump hole.
There was the predictable blue flash, but then....
Major Gunter Waalbeck sat back in his set, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing and his breath rushed out of him.
"Welcome to the Colditz system Major; and to the real Rheinland Military" said the commodore who was smiling broadly.
The system was a swirl of orange and green, the Walker Nebula and Edge Nebula surrounded them. To his left was a massive shipyard, with 16 holding positions...all filled with new Battleships. A large orange sun glared down from above them, reflecting on several Cruisers, flanked by gunboats and Valkryes as they passed the two by. A large red planet sat squat in the middle of the system and military craft flocked around that as well. The system was filled with a patchwork of shipyards, military bases, weapons platforms but most amazingly of all, Battleships. Waalbeck counted 6 and there must of been about 20 cruisers and countless numbers of Gun ships and Valkryes milling about the place.
"Are you ready?" said the commodore politely over the comm. link.
"Ready for what?" asked Waalbeck.
“Your initiation as part of the new glorius Rheinland Imperial Navy”
"Yes Commodore" replied Waalbeck boldly as they moved towards the red planet which had been christened the Wolfschanze (Wolf's Lair) after some hiding place of an ancient obscure German leader.
As they descended through the atmosphere towards the various military bases on the surface Waalbeck could see lines of powerfully built soldiers in green fatigues marching, training and partaking in assault exercises. Gunboats and Valkryes skilfully dodged huge rock formations and flew through valleys blasting targets with their Flamecurses.
Waalbeck shook his head in disbelief...This was the Rheinland Military, the one he'd always dreamed of; the most powerful force in the Sirius and a force worthy of restoring Rheinland's damaged pride. One question still remained in his head.
"Commodore, no disrespect meant to our glorius nation, but in it's damaged economy how could we afford this wonderful gift?" The commodore laughed.
"Surely major you couldn't think that a nation could stay just above bankrupt for over 200 years? We would be very rich traders if we hadn't repaired our defence forces but I think this is a much more worthy cause to spend money towards, wouldn't you agree?"
"Yes commodore; and so glad I am that we did choose this course of action."
The commodore nodded in approval.
"Yes, you are a model soldier… in words of course, your skills in the field have yet to be proven but you will learn much here."
As they landed Waalbeck sat back in his set contemplating his future. Rheinland really did need a good army. The colonies were at the brink of war and Rheinland was thought to be an easy target by the other colonies. “Well” he thought, “we will see who's an easy target…”


-:-
God is dead, and no-one cares.

Edited by - Love Shark on 2/10/2005 2:45:00 AM

4:
After a long time of travelling, I had left behind my explorer’s ways and had settled into a comfortable life on the far side of the Tau-37 Binary star, away from the prying eyes of the general populace. I had charted all I could in Sirius, and after a long time of travelling, I thought the time was high to just slow the pace down. I had fought nomads in Omicron Gamma, traded with the Bunschuh in the Frankfurt system, you name it, I had done it. But after my travels, the public admiration became too much. The constant media attention, the paparazzi on the door of my home in Caimbridge. I had to get away from it all. And then I remembered my travels. There was one place where I was totally in awe of my surroundings. Tau-37. Its serene blue nebulae surrounding the binary star in the centre. Freeport 10 was a short flight away, and I had built up a good rep with the outcasts, ferrying many sick outcasts back to Malta when their cardamine had run out. Occasionally I would run some supplies to Malta, as a way of funding my minimalist existence in the outskirts of Sirius.
Fate it seems, doesn't like having the traveller settle down.
I was in the bar of Freeport 10, enjoying an ancient drink known as 'scotch' with Kenji, my old travelling companion from Kusari. Most people would consider two men in their late 20's sitting in Freeport 10 drinking strange beverages to be suspicious, but we were retired. 28 and retired, that still makes me grin sometimes. Anyway, I was in the bar with Kenji, talking about the time we 'accidentally' annoyed the Xenos and limped back to pueblo in a battered Xeno Starflier, when two strangers walk in. they had familiar faces, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was. Kenji was the quick one here.
"That’s Edison Trent's son... what's he doing this far out?"
"Edison Trent? That guy who defeated the nomads?"
"Yeah, that’s him, he got married, had kids. he looks about 17..."
We thought nothing of it and went back to our story which had begun to focus on a waitress at Pueblo.
After a couple of hours, I had said goodbye to Kenji, and he got into his ship and headed back home to New Tokyo. I too, had begun to work my way back to my ship, which was parked in dock 3. The steel corridors of Freeport 10 swayed a little from the solar wind spurted out from the binary suns in the centre of the Tau-37 system. The strange thing was that there was no movement or noise at all, the passageways were motionless. This worried me a little, questioning whether I should see the Zoners about it. I went past the bar and thought; I’m still kinda thirsty, I might have another drink.
I opened the door and walked back into the bar. I sat down at the bar this time and ordered a sidewinder fang from the barkeeper, who for some reason had earned the nickname of 'Wook'. For hours I’d retell the details of my adventures to Wook, and he would love every minute of it. That day I told him about the cute waitress at pueblo.
It was late by the time I left Freeport 10, and the trip back to the station I called home wasn't looking all that promising in the way of entertainment. After an uneventful journey, I arrived back at the station I called home, it was the old Ithica station, I had brought it back up to standards, and it was quite comfortable living space, my equivalent of a mansion. I had ample space for the two ships I owned, and for the trinkets I collected over the years. I set up the auto-defence system, and made my way to my quarters. After going through my routine, I was asleep before I made it to bed.
I was sleeping soundly when the docking request announcement came over the intercom...


That was five years ago. The visitor was from the Order. It turns out that Trent's son was a recruiting agent for the Order, and I had been selected for my knowledge of all the systems and factions. This knowledge was soon voided when things started happening in Liberty; strange things. New York was under lockdown, and the Order was curious to why. Obviously, being a civilian I couldn't just ask some co-workers, but I had my resources. Rochester was the main one, well, 'was' being the operative word here. All that was left was some smouldering debris and the knowledge that over 300 people had died not too long ago. The scorch marks on the plates left behind by the Rochester were seared by weapons I had never seen, and Orillion had assured me that the Nomads were under control, and the Houses were at peace. Two days before, he was on Planet Crete, so the Corsairs were not to blame. That left one major power - The Outcasts.
Kenji had reported from my old Station, the Citadel Station in Tau-37, that the Outcasts had started to become more aggressive in their patrols, even ransacking Citadel Station looking for Cardamine. Normally the Outcasts left Tau-37 alone, but Kenji said that they had almost crippled Freeport 10 in a frenzied rage, only to be stopped by Zoner re-enforcements led by Wook.
I pondered this when a ship registered on my scanner. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. Well, I had seen something similar, when I visited the Navy Shipyards, and 'browsed' through their database. It was loaded with strange weapons, similar to ones I had stored back at Citadel. They were produced in the same factory as the weapons mounted on the front of my ship, which was built by the new fighter works in Bering, Z-Axis Shipwrights. Their latest light fighter was a monster, with the power to hold Level 10 Diamondbacks while still being able to out-run any ship in Sirius, and it was the only one in existence, being a prototype and all. I got it through my contacts in the Order, and they knew I could put it to good use, and it was a nice replacement for my old Ragnorok Heavy Fighter. I waited for the other pilot to initiate a conversation, but my patience was worn thin, after being made to leave the scenic Tau-37. I hit the hail button on the comm. circuits, announcing who I was.
"This is Zulu X-Ray Tree Seven Sierra, please respond..."
There was a pause, probably as the pilot was trying to identify the source of the transmission. After a short pause, a response came over the comm.
"This is Omicron Black 9. State your business here."

5:
The colony news service, all the news that's fit for you"
"Orla Bell here reporting from New York where President Robins is now meeting with top Navy commanders, the LSF secretary-general and several of his best operatives in an attempt to devise a plan to guard Liberty against the rapidly spreading conflicts flaring up around the Sirius..."
"Michael Bentley reporting here live, in Omega 3, where the Rheinland military build-up is reaching critical stages. All Battleships have been withdrawn from their original positions and/or have been sent to Bretonia's borderlines. Right now as we speak, our newest regent King Grave is meeting with Parliament to draw up a peace treaty with Rheinland and their secret navy who are becoming increasingly hostile. In related news the withdrawal of Battleships in several key areas such as the Dublin system and the Cambridge system has caused crime to triple especially in the Dublin system which is rapidly being overrun and conquered by political separatist group, the Mollys..."
"This is Aki Hirayuki speaking live at the Emperors palace where Shogun Edo is meeting with the newly crowned Emperor Kyu to discuss battle plans and defensive strategies against the New Rheinland Navy whose Northern fleet has begun a strategic build-up in Frankfurt, close to the jump hole which leads to the mystery Rheinland military system. The Kusari Naval forces have been providing the GMG with heavy military equipment and the Battleship Nagumo is rumoured to actually have jumped to the Sigma-13 system! Also several prototype Battleships have been brought out of the production line after recently completed field trials to support the massive base of Cruisers and Gunboats that have been fortifying the Honshu system...."
Colonel Gunter Waalbeck snorted and switched off the Kusari channel.
“Hmpf” he thought, “look at how their so called friends panicked and squirmed with fear as his colony’s armies moved closer.”
He was actually positioned in the Tau-37 system after a massive trip through the Sigma cluster and then the Omicrons. The Rheinlanders still had their cloaking technologies and had snuck an entire fleet past the Outcast home world without being detected. The fleet was split into two groups; one to attack Kusari's relatively undefended western border and the other to attack the relatively unprotected northern Bretonian front. He was in group two the second half of the fleet that was to attack the Bretonian's northern frontier.
The main attack was still to come through the Omega systems and the Sigma cluster for the Kusari operation but if the Shogun and the King thought that the Rheinlanders had somehow got their fleets into the Northern systems why wouldn't they bring them all? A very un-original plan relying heavily on deception and sneak attacks, Waalbeck thought. Then, when Kusari and Bretonia had been defeated, Liberty would be encircled and on all three fronts the glorious Rheinland navies would attack the rich centre worlds and claim the prize of what many believed was theirs. But this was all still to come and relied heavily on many tricky operations



--2 days later, Tau-31 system--


"Captain!"
"Yes Lieutenant, your report?"
2nd Lieutenant Pitts stood stiffly at attention, Neuro-board held firmly under his arms.
"No hostiles sighted, only two Outcasts that were dispatched by a Crusader patrol...one loss to us"
Captain Biggs sighed.
"We should be defending the Omegas not running after pirates when Bretonia most needs us"
Pitts nodded curtly and turned away to his other business. Captain Biggs was the commander of the Cruiser Lancaster which was deployed to deal with any pirates or hot-headed Kusari commanders who thought they might take advantage when Bretonia was at its worst. Little did he realise it was about to get worse, a lot worse. He paced across the bridge and towards his study only pausing to check his neuro-metre....11:57pm Universal time. He quickened his pace, determined to fall asleep as quick as possible before some other problem rose up.
He awoke to a bang.
Groaning, he looked around and realised the ship was on a lean. The light flicked and lighting gas steamed from the broken fixture. His eyes narrowed and he quickly put on his uniform and helmet with the distinct darkened visor. Storming outside he pulled the first person he saw and demanded an explanation. It was Corporal Lee.
"We were attacked by several Rheinland gunboats and a steady flow of Valkryes...we ah destroyed them eventually but not without losses..."
"What losses!?"
"Well... um… engines, because the whole lower section was blown off and those two sections over there were decompressed," he pointed to an area that was sealed off and looked quite volatile "plus our gunboats and most of our Crusaders." Biggs rubbed his hand over his forehead.
"So our status is?" The Corporal looked uneasy.
"Well 60% destruction of our cruiser, rendering it immobile and we only have 3 friendlies left; they're Crusaders all partly damaged and no contact so far with New London, Battleship York... hell we can't even get hold of Planet Harris"
Biggs slammed his fist into the table so hard the whole crew turned to stare.

Waalbeck breathed out slowly. He had only just escaped the roaming Crusaders but his men had done sufficient damage. He had to keep the Bretonian forces isolated, confused. So far the intercepted communications had given him the view that the Bretonians were confused, and afraid. The sabotage of the Leeds jump gate had been completed by a team of specialists and where that Bretonians thought they were sending messengers...well they were warped to oblivion in the damaged Jump-gate. He received a new message, thinking it to be a Bretonian communication but it was one of his men reporting destruction of a gunboat patrol in the area. He counted down in memory...that left only one force left alive...the crippled Cruiser which had to be taken out. "Sneak 1? This is Sneak 2.....rendezvous at the position of king major over and out". He turned to cruise speed and headed towards the cruiser.
The Valkryes blasted it with their Flamecurses and picked over the helpless cruiser like vultures over a fated animal. Then Sneak 1 arrived, the Gunboat Schussler and locked the missile turret on the cruiser. The captain of the Gunboat adjusted his cap and smiled grimly as he fired off seven missiles at the cruiser's massive behind. The aft section crumpled under massive pressure and the other booths crumpled with it. Biggs was already dead, the gun in his hand still pointed towards his head as his cabin crumpled up. The sailors in the midst of putting on vac-suits were sucked out by the vacuum and their comrades who were fast were sucked out into the void and towards a slow death of asphyxiation.

-:-
God is dead, and no-one cares.

6:
"Darkstone" was an odd name to have chosen. It had no relation on the young man's ambition, career, anything. It was simply a name that he thought of one day. He was salvaging the wrecks of the Order base. During the days of the Nomads, the Houses were too busy fighting the Nomads to notice that the Order were gaining their funds for ships and equipment by siphoning it off from the capital owned by the Houses. Once the threat of the Nomads was over, the Order had effectively disbanded, although there were carefully placed watchdogs, just in case. But, the organisation was long dead.

As a former member, Darkstone knew this, and had braved the unstable jump hole to get to Toledo. He'd landed, gone inside the ruins of the base in an EV suit, and immediately realised he'd hit a treasure trove. While the concrete on the outside of the structure had been almost destroyed by the Nomad bombardment shortly before the assault on the Dyson Sphere, the Order had built this place to be a long term holdout against the Nomads, if that was what it was to come to. He waved a hand over the switch, and with a faint humming, the entire complex came alive, as if not a moment had passed since the Order had frantically evacuated. Darkstone expected only to find pieces of equipment, maybe a power generator or thruster augment. What he didn't expect was access to the Order mainframe. He assumed it must have been left on in Orillion's haste to get to the Osiris. He withdrew a small data chip from one of the EV suit's pockets and plugged it in to the base of the projector, and also a manual control unit, which he plugged into the data stream leading to the projector.

He couldn't have been more surprised with what he found. After the Nomads had been banished, the Order was quick to report to the high governmental personnel the situation that had arisen. The four Houses had gladly given the Order data on all their ships, bases, planets, troops, everything. If the Nomads were only staging a feint, they would show, as people would disappear from their stations and be noticed.
Darkstone summoned the data to the main projector. He had expected the array of flashing dots scattered around the map of Sirius, but what he had not expected were the miniscule lines projecting from each of them. And, when he looked closer, yes! he could see, they were moving in real time! He had here just about the greatest military tool in the whole of Sirius.

However, his euphoria at this discovery was short lived, and soon replaced with wonder. For leading off from Sirius were two thick, bright lines. One was purple, the other was sky blue. He touched the button on his control to zoom out by a factor of 10. The Sirius sector immediately shrank to a small square in the corner of the 3D image. But the lines remained unchanged, still leading off the edge of the display. He zoomed out by 10 again. Still, the lines were too long. He instructed the projector to plot the other end of the line, while keeping Sirius on the display. He was shocked to see his control indicate that such an action would require scaling down by a factor of over 80,000. Christ! This thing travelled a long way! This must be the legendary Hyper Gate... Any fears he had about what might lay at the other end were quickly overcome by a giddy, consuming excitement to find out what was there. He downloaded the nav course to the Sirius end of the blue line to his data chip, disconnected the control unit, and set off at a run back to his ship. He would waste no time telling anyone else, this discovery was too important, he had to go now. How did he know that the Gate wasn't about to destabilise?

He punched in the course and set off as fast as his ship could carry him.

-:-
God is dead, and no-one cares.

Thats all the major characters introduced. any comments/kudos/flameage is accepted humbly. (to a point; you dirty, dirty spammers)

7:
As DragonBorn exited the jump gate from Magellan into the New York Badlands, near Ithaca, he noticed there was no activity, in his time the place would have been swarming with duelling Bloodhounds, Patriots, heck maybe even a few Wolfhounds and Defenders, or some Outcast Daggers even, but all was eerily silent. No firework displays of exploding ships no barrages of laser or the puff of gas of missiles being fired. He headed for the trade lane and docked. As he exited the other end near the West Point Academy he realized why there were no rogues. In front of him was a fleet of cruisers, a newly designed liberty gunboat and at least 3 dreadnoughts. DragonBorn’s comm. was blinking with urgency as someone was trying to communicate with him, so he opened the channel.
"This is the battleship Delaware you are not in our registered list of ship's that have clearance for the New York system power down your ship and prepare to be taken into custody."

”What the hell,” he thought, “since when is New York a restricted system?”

"This is omicron black 9 New York is NOT a restricted system and if you’re bluffing to get your slimy aristocratic hands on my ship, you just signed your own death warrant!"
"Very well have it your way; all ships, open fire!"
”Well that went well” he thought.

He dodged the main blast from the main guns of the capital ships and went for the gunboat he tore through it easily with his beam like weapons, turning his attention to the defenders and guardians, a new prototype VHF. He tore through their hulls like a hot knife through butter, but the capital ships could keep him away with brute force. He set his course for Rochester, since supposedly the Junkers were neutral to the Liberty Navy, that is, of course, if he could even be considered Navy now. As he approached Rochester, he was surprised to see hear no query why he was in the area, and when he came in visual range, a large piece of debris told him why.

As he wondered about the demise of Rochester, DragonBorn’s comm. crackled to life.

"This is Zulu X-Ray Tree Seven Sierra, please respond..."

He paused, and began searching for the source of the transmission. There was only a small signature that could have been piloted, but that was the size of a construction pod. He hit the switch to reply to the message.

"This is Omicron Black 9. State your business here."
Immediately, DragonBorn had his response.
"This is Zulu X-Ray Tree Seven Sierra, investigating abnormal activities in the New York System. State your intent, Omicron Black Nine.”

DragonBorn was about to reply, when a wailing alert echoed throughout his ship. His ship’s scanners picked up a large attack fleet, comprised of a Liberty Dreadnought, Three Brand new Liberty Gunships, and 3 wings of Guardian Fighters, all approaching at high speed.
Hitting the reply, DragonBorn cynically told his companion what he was going to do.
"Look, I'd love to stay and chat, but the Liberty Navy seems to enjoy my company. I’m taking it you wouldn’t want to greet them, so I’m assuming that you probably could help me out here?”
DragonBorn waited for a reply.
“You asked just the right person.”
“Oh good, you wouldn’t happen to know another way out New York would you? I'm certain that the Navy has blocked off all the known jump holes in the system, as well as the Magellan gate by now."
“True. If you want to survive this, Head to the Pittsburgh Debris Field. There’s a jump hole near the dark side of Maine.”
I hoped that he was right, and that this so-called ‘unknown’ jump hole was really unknown. I hit the switch again.
“I pray that your ship is fast, friend, I want to live past today, so I am thinking that we should stick together.”
“Lead the way.”

-:-
We could've been a good couple, we coulda had somethin' special; but you one crazy-ass *****!

Edited by - Love Shark on 2/18/2005 11:36:24 PM

woah, see now i could never have figured out how to put that much detail in there, although one thing that bugs me is the mistake i made with the main blast from the main cannons i tried to word it better in the original but couldn't figure out how so feel free to change it as it is abit redundant.