Rise and Fall

[tha_rami]

After the retreat of the remaining Vonari forces from Terran space in 2288, a period of wealth and prosperity dawned. Through peace, the economy flourished, while the stable but present, tensions between Alliance and Federation kept the weapons market, the single most important component of the economy, intact.

In 2346, Alliance and Federation representatives sat around the table at New Hope for the first true peace-negotiations. The main reason to do this was to bundle all the Terran power against the threat of a possible Vonari retaliation. As a result, the weapons market collapsed. The economical damage wouldn't have been as severe, if another event hadn't taken place.

In 2347 the location of the hidden paradise world, RiftSpace, was published. The sudden abundant supply of recourses completed the collapse of the economy. Orion's economy went down first, rapidly followed by Sol. EvoChron's economy went down almost simultaneously. The Collapse lead to poverty and riots all around Terran Space. The peace-negotiations failed, due to the increased tensions. However, they agreed to a non-aggression treaty. It is the year 2354, as several persons discuss the end of the peace.



Part 1
Preparations

Intro – June 21

As he was watching through the thick layered window into the darkness of space, a carrier slowly approached the station. He turned around, towards the two men sitting ar his table. They had arranged to meet in a crowded bar at Onyx station, and the dark group they formed took refuge in a dark corner. Nobody noticed the three men sitting in the smoke and laughter. But these men appeared dead-serious.

He took another look at the two men. One was looking at him straightly, clearly not in the least impressed by who he was. He allowed himself a small smile - he had not expected differently from an ex-pilot of the 48th Wraith Squadron. He had deliberately picked former Lt. Dirk Jermany, who had been fired from the Alliance due to the fact he denied to follow orders one. Jermany still held a personal wrath against the Alliance.

He took a quick glimpse at the other man at the table. Captain Sarrickson was staring out of the window, at the carrier that was now sliding by slowly. The brakes lit up every now and then, causing eerie, blue flashes outside. Captain Sarrickson was a pilot for the Federation. He had chosen Sarrickson as the captain had a keen and silent reputation. Two qualities that Jermany lacked, but a good compensation for the lack of trust between him and Sarrickson. He would do just fine.

Then he took out two small disks from his pocket. He handed one to the Lieutenant, and one to the Captain. Jermany immediately took a small device from the inner pocket of his leather jack, and slid the disk through it. A small overview on the screen confirmed that a million credits had been added to his bank account. Jermany stood up from the table and disappeared into the smoke.

Sarrickson put the disk in his pocket, without scanning it yet. He stood up, nodded at the man sitting at his table. He hesitated.
"And what if it fails?"

The man looked up from his lighter and his cigarette.
"I've never failed before and I don't intend on starting doing it just yet."
"And the rest of the money?"

He looked at his cigarette, and then took a long look at Sarrickson.
"You'll get the other 99 million áfter you've done what you must."

Sarrickson disliked the emphasis on 'after'. He was no twelve years old anymore. But with such a mission, he could understand the secrecy and payment.

“Why?�

This caught the man off-guard. He suddenly stared at Sarrickson, and Sarrickson gave him no time to think.

“Why?�, he repeated.
“The rebuilding of the economy, my friend. The rebuilding of all that was lost in that insane treaty.�
“I’m not your friend. What do you win with it?�

The man hesitated, not taking his eyes off Sarrickson.

“Well then, Captain, nothing more than everybody else. I want back to the times of wealth and prosperity, the times in which being a lone mercenary could earn you a fortune. I don’t need no peace and poverty if stable tensions create wealth for everyone. I’m representing several clans, groups and instances from all over Sol, Orion and Evochron. We nééd to do this. For everyone.�

Sarrickson thought for a moment, nodded once more, and then also disappeared in the smoke, leaving the man alone at his table.

The man finished his cigarette, took a look around, and then left the bar too.


Chapter 1 - Impact point – June 23

In the Orion sector, a small, five-wing Federation squadron launched from the FBC Memento. The front ship accelerated to cruise-speed, and they would remain on that speed until they would reach their destination. In the 4th ship of the squadron, Jack sat down as he turned off the Inertial Dampening System. They would use the lack of Inertia to conserve fuel, and only turn the system back on for minor corrections in their course. Jack was flying his 150th trip today, and he was eager to see what his colleagues had arranged this time. For his 100th flight, they had pulled several tricks on him. They had suddenly all had sped up to Fulcrum Drive speed, and, too surprised to react, left him behind near the station. He had mockingly returned, until he realized that it was his 100th flight. They returned a minute later, and they had had a great party.

The squadron leader always had such idea’s. He was a smart man, humorous, but serious when he needed to. Silent and effective. Jack always had great admiration for his Captain, Captain Ed Sarrickson. They were friends, but due to his work he had to always address him as Captain.

After 20 minutes of chatter, they had nearly reached their destination. Sarrickson once more read a summarized briefing of the mission. It was a reconnaissance mission of small importance, but the Aquila nebula was a great hiding-place for pirate scum. They would pass through separately but coordinated and wouldn’t miss a single spot. The bluish nebula doomed up in front of them. Sarrickson’s UFA-80 slowed down and Jack instinctively slowed down to remain in formation. They would increase their distance from each other to 700, as their objectives were, just inside radar range for larger objects in Nebulae. They had nearly reached the walls of the gas-cloud. Jack always found this an impressive approach, the approach to a nebula. It was kind of like flying straight at a seemingly solid wall, hoping it would bend at impact.

Sarrickson’s ship nearly seemed to impact on that nonexistent solid wall. It dove into the nebula, Sarrickson lit his afterburner to speed up as planned, and less than a second later, exploded in a huge blast of debris and fire. Several secondary explosions blasted apart most of the wreckage, and too surprised to react, Jack sat paralyzed in his chair. The squadron gathered around the last location of Captain Ed Sarrickson, and while debris bounced off the flaring shields of their UFA-25’s, they prayed for their captain.


Chapter 2 – Taken – June 24

A firm push on the button at the bottom under the throttle engaged the Fulcrum Drive. Almost simultaneously with the other five F-144E’s in the 5-wing squadron, Curtis Williams was pushed back into his chair by the enormous speed. Space blurred, and a huge blue planet, Sapphire, seemingly shot past him in a flash. Then, a flash.

The speed of their ships decreased as they had reached their destination, the system of Pearl. Several organized pirates had been attacking Alliance carriers, and they would escort the ACC Catamaran today. They had a several thousand units to fly to the station, for a quick refreshment. They hadn’t had breakfast yet, so that would be quite welcome.

It had been quite humiliating, his entry into the Wraith squadron. In his old, Raven-squadron he had been the squadron leader. He was a respected pilot, well-trained, but the Wraith league just seemed like a promotion. How wrong could he have been. He got the status of Ensign, flew 3rd wing and had to redo training. He was finally starting to appreciate this system. Only the very best were allowed into the Wraith-squadrons, and these pilots were indeed far better than he was. He had to train a lot. He promised himself to take another ride in the simulators when he got back.

He sat back in his chair. The IDS was off, and their course was good. He would relax until he had to take the controls again, in the docking procedure. The Pearl system had automatic docking, but that was optimized for Civilian ships. The Alliance once lost a F-144E in a docking procedure, and the rules stated all military equipment should dock manually.

But he never would get the chance to dock his Wraith. Taken completely off-guard, a missile slammed into the first ship of the squadron. Well, actually, it didn’t. It suddenly appeared right behind the tail of the ship, and exploded just before impact. A bluish flash downed the blue energy blast emerging from the first F-144E’s outlet. His reflex was quick – he turned of the IDS and sat upright. ‘How did that EMP missile get there?’.

He got the answer in a matter of seconds. Suddenly, several UFA-80’s appeared out of the nothing. Stealth Devices, damn. The squadron leaders ship just sat still. A purple flash lit the cockpit, as a carrier warped in behind them. He locked onto one of the UFA-80’s, and fired the first of his four Exodus Missiles. We suddenly realized the lack of laser fire, and the lack of radio-chatter. He turned on his microphone to broadcast a ‘mayday’. He repeated ‘Mayday’ several times, but got no response. That carrier, it’s jamming the signals! We’ve been trapped! He saw another of his colleagues, not moving, downed by EMP. What ís this? What do they want? He opened fire on a UFA-80, who was engaging in a frontal attack. It slid to the right, out of his gunsight, and just before the UFA-80 passed by him, a missile shot out from below it’s wings. Several flares shot from the bottom of the F-144E. However, it was too late. The missile exploded right in front of the ship, and the flash stunned him as the ships systems shut down. He looked at the carrier, which collected all five of the downed Star Wraiths. Everything went black as the carriers jaws shut over his Wraith. He waited.

Suddenly, his systems lit up again. He tried to push the throttle forward. No response. Damn. The Secondary Weapon Indicator was empty. He was certain he had three missiles left, he had only used one. No response from the lasers neither. Then, by itself, the doors opened. He turned around at his door, grabbed for his personal weapon at his belt and pointed at the door. Anyone coming in would receive a small surprise from him. But no one entered the Wraith’s cockpit. All that came into the cockpit, was a small arrow shot through the door, and pierced into his arm. He looked at the dart, and realized it contained a tranquilizer. He had been beaten. Everything went dark again, while Curtis collapsed to the floor.

Chapter 3 – Marble Floors – June 22

He left the bar, and threw his cigarette on the floor before stepping on it. He walked through the repetitive metal hallways of Onyx station. The meeting had cost him two million credits, but if he succeeded, he would have orders coming in again. The economical crisis after the treaty between the Alliance and Federation had cost him direly. Orders for weaponry subsided, and he was in that game. His income had dried up, and with the capital he had already gathered, he had now set a desperate plan in motion. It would cost him 200 million credits, but he could miss those. He needed the orders. He walked on, passed below the lit board reading ‘Public bay’.

Nearly thirty minutes later, he was in a carrier en-route to New Hope. He sat back and again thought of the plan. It was brilliant, but it’s success depended on two money-driven traitors. On external factors. It was a gamble, but if he succeeded it would be worth it. If it failed, he would have lawyers, if they ever got to him. They had promised to not betray him might they fail, and receive another payment of one million credits. But the 99 millions promised in advance were attractive enough to have them try for the big money.

The carrier docked at New Hope station. He was directed towards a Freighter, which would fly him to the planets surface. Carriers were too heavy to enter atmospheres, so this was a necessary step in travelling. He sat down in the VIP lounge, waiting for the boarding sign to light up.

The descent was without any problems. He still enjoyed the feeling of the increasing gravity on his body, and the sudden pull as they got closer to the planet. Suddenly one would feel the forward movement of the Freighter, and one would feel the descending craft. The fake gravity would be shut down, and real gravity would make one lighter due to the height, and then increase slowly.

An hour later, he had reached a large, glass office building. He passed through the glass doors, past two guards who nodded at him with a fake smile. They hated the job, he knew that, but he paid them well. He nodded back at them, and walked into the elevator in the center hall. He was rocketed upwards towards the skies, until he reached the 72nd floor of the building, the highest floor. It was his floor, he was the director. He needed to open up the door by scanning his eye. The door opened, and he stepped upon the white marble floor. He sat down at his desk, and searched for relevant news. Nothing. He leaned back, and a disturbing thought crossed his mind.

In less than a week, there would be news. There would be orders, money. The economical crisis would be gone, prosperity would return, wealth would be back. At the costs of hundreds, no, thousands of lives, everything would be restored. Everything would be rebuilt, but at the cost of peace. Tomorrow it was Sarrickson’s show. He wouldn’t make any mistakes. After tomorrow, a well coordinated assault by Jermany would capture them a wing of F-144E’s. On 27 of June, they would stage their war. And with some luck, on the 28th of June, or at last by the start of July, he would have his war. It would all start with the Bentley.


Chapter 4 – Investigations – June 25

It was odd. An entire Star Wraith squadron disappeared, vanished. Impossible. If it would’ve been a single one, it could’ve been a malfunction in the Fulcrum Drive, but all five at the same moment? It would’ve be a impossible coincidence. Yet, they couldn’t have arrived at Pearl. No one ever received radio-transmissions of an assault, and these were elite pilots flying the space superiority fighter. It would take an entire army to stop these men, and several army’s to do it so quick that they couldn’t sound the alarm. They had flown simulations against large numbers of A-50’s, and never lost. Impossible. Such men don’t disappear.

Yet, the entire squadron was gone. Investigations shown nothing, except for an empty countermeasure flare. But flares are found nearly everywhere, and this flare still hadn’t been shot by laserfire or something. There were little to no traces combat anywhere along the route the ships had flown. The investigation was focussing on Sapphire, as it was quite illogical that they would’ve warped to Pearl and got lost there. No traces of damaged equipment were found at any location.

She laid aside the report. As a high-ranked officer in the Terran Space Navy, she was placed in charge with the investigation. She had solved impossible cases before, and she would solve this one too.

“Jenna! Hurry, come on, we’re gonna be late!�. Her colleague, Francis, was waiting outside her office.

Damn! Almost forgot!. Jenna jumped to her feet, grabbed her coat and ran outside. What time was it?

“It’s 15:30, dear�
“Since when can you read thoughts?�
“Ever since you started to think out loud.�

She grinned. They had 30 minutes until the TSN would start the military burial of Cpt. Sarrickson. He had died in a freakish accident two days ago. The official report concluded that his fuel tanks had been leaking, and the engine heat had lit it as he used his afterburner. A horrible death for such an experienced captain. The explosion had damaged the wreckage severely, and the cockpit, including all systems, the emergency equipment and the captain had been completely perished. It would be ceremonial, as there was no body. But still, it was an honor no one would want to withhold the captain, even considering him being a Federation captain. They had a treaty after all, so it was a TSN burial. The Terran Space Navy. There was no Alliance or Federation left. Well, there was, but they honored their treaty so well, one might as well say it was one faction. There had been no armed conflicts since 2346. Damn speeches. They hurried past the docking controls, quickly taking the VIP-route through the station. They were just in time for the carrier to Sapphire station.

And there were speeches. Several men of Sarrickson’s squadron emphasized the energy and optimism of the captain, and one of his men told about a trick they had pulled on him with his hundredth flight. After the speeches, the coffin was launched out of the station. She looked how it, and thus Edward Sarrickson, disappeared into the endlessness of space.


Chapter 5 – Final Preparations – June 26 – 22:00 UST

Staging a war between the two largest factions in human history. They would cause a conflict spanning light-years, solar systems, space wars made the conflicts of history seem relatively small. People would die, yes, but they would die for a noble cause. You don’t really believe that, do you? Bad thoughts. Repel them. They’re dying for a good cause. A noble goal. You do it for the money, you know that.

Jermany took a long look at his companion. He had been sitting, staring out of the windows for nearly ten full minutes now, without saying a word. A strange guy, this one. Captain Sarrickson stood up, not showing a sign of doubt or hesitation.

“You’re not pulling out, are you?�, Jermany asked

Sarrickson seemed hurt, and slightly angered by this remark.

“What makes you think that?�

He caught Jermany off-guard with this question. Jermany was expecting a simple ‘of course not’. A question he had not expected.

“Well… Nothing…�

Silence. Jermany turned away from Sarrickson. He thought for a few moments and turned back to his colleague.

“So, you ready for it?�
“Yeah. It’s quite the gamble, but it’s a possibility�
“Heh, yeah, it’s a gamble�

Both the men paused. Silence once more filled the room.

“So, why are you doing this?�, Jermany asked.

Sarrickson thought once more about why he was exactly doing this. He made up his mind.

“The money, I guess.�
“Money. Heh, not anything of a noble cause, isn’t it?�
“No. What’s your noble cause?�, Sarrickson replied sarcastically.

Jermany completely missed the sarcastic tone of the remark.
“Personal revenge�
“Revenge?�
“Yeah�. A short pause. “Well, I used to be a Lieutenant for the Alliance before the treaty. I was a respected Lieutenant, but I was strongly against the treaty. They ordered me to escort some Federation carrier. I refused. So… they removed me from service and duty.�
“And…?�
“Well, the Alliance was my life. I would’ve given everything to protect them. But they let me fall, and I’ll bring them down.�

Sarrickson nodded. “Not very noble neither, Lieutenant�

Jermany seemed hurt by hearing his former title.

“So, Captain, are you ready?�
“You asked just a few moments ago.�
“Good, then let’s take some rest for the big day.�
“I’d rather sit here a bit. It’s a beautiful view from here. Good night, Lieutenant�

Jermany disappeared through the door with the ‘Restroom’ sign. He recalled his meeting in Vonari B, which was just a few hours ago. Sarrickson remained in the room, and within moments, was sunken in his thoughts again.


Chapter 6 – Pressurized – June 26

Jermany maneuvered his Striker through the passage. It was an unusual flight, as always with cave-flights. His ship was surrounded by rocks, cliffs, spires and walls, and flying with a floor and a roof was contra-instinctive. A wall suddenly doomed out of the darkness. His navigation point was quite near, but the distance he had to fly was larger than the 600 units the computer indicated due to the obstacles.

He didn’t like cave-systems. He didn’t like the entire Evochron sector. It was uncoordinated, a complete anarchy. It was a nest for criminals, for murderers and pirates. But the Asteroid system he was visiting was even further away from Sol. It was located in a hollow asteroid in what the Alliance to be a Vonarian sector. But he wasn’t here for sightseeing. He had received 10 million payment in advance from his new employer. Sarrickson didn’t want to have any unneeded casualties, something that didn’t fit into Jermany’s plans. He had secretly agreed to have these millions paid early, to buy the necessary equipment for his revenge.

Suddenly, lights appeared from the darkness. The ships computer projected the ideal docking path, and Jeremy followed it precisely. Minutes later, the magnets of one of the empty docking bays clamped to his Striker. The doors closed behind his craft and the room was pressurized. Jermany got out of his Striker and started making his way through the nearly abandoned mercenary station.

Unlike most stations, Jermany saw nearly no one here. It wasn’t too surprising, it was a base selling secret Alliance weaponry. It was a secret facility, a mining base gone astray. The only people supposed to be here were the miners, but in reality, several rather shady groups ran the station.

Jermany was here for business. He walked to the elevator, which took him to the top floor of the station. He had a meeting with several high persons about a small transaction they would make. As the doors of the elevator opened again, Jermany found himself staring at two rather powerful men. They asked him for identification, which he immediately handed them. They asked him several questions, which he seemed to answer correctly, as they let him pass through. He opened the doors and found himself in a dark office, with a silhouette sitting in the silhouette of a chair.

“Mister Jermany, I assume?�
“Yes. I’ve got little time for chatting I’m afraid. You got my equipment ready?�
“Ah, a busy man, aren’t you?�
“Quite.�
“If you have my money, your equipment as you call it, will be loaded in your craft before you return to it.�

Jermany reached for his pocket, and wondered why he hadn’t been checked for weapons. He hesitated for a moment. An amused smile appeared on the man behind the desk.

“Wondered why you haven’t been checked for weapons or so?�

Jermany realized he was surprised. He nodded.

“The elevator is a state of the art X-ray machine. We don’t do half security, mister Jermany.�
“Ah.� – Jeremy smiled now. He didn’t expect less from an organization selling the single most powerful weapon ever made with Terran technology.

Now, Jermany took out a small electronic device from his pocket, then took a chip from his wallet and inserted it into the device. He showed the man that entered an eight, followed by seven zero’s on the numerical keyboard of the machine, and confirmed it. Then, he handed the chip to the silhouette, who inserted it into a similar device. He pressed the confirm button on his device too, and handed back the chip.

“Your equipment will be loaded as you walk back to your ship, mister Jermany. It was a pleasure doing business with you.�
“A pleasure. Farewell.�
"Farewell"

Jermany returned to the docking bay, boarded his Striker, booted the systems and checked his secondary weapon display. It clearly read “Fulcrm�. Jermany smiled. He directed the Striker out of station, back through the cave. The station doors closed behind the departing Striker.


Chapter 7 – Serenity – June 27 – 1:28 UST

Several groups of F-144E’s returned to the Alliance Battle Carrier Bentley. It was 1:28 UST, and there were two patrols scheduled to return within the coming next two minutes. The first one was patrol 7, a reconnaissance patrol, and the other one patrol 3, a routine patrol. The Bentley was an elite carrier. It carried nearly 20 F-144E’s and several Ravens, and was one of the main class Zenith carriers ever built. It had a spotless history, like many of the Zenith’s, but the Bentley had undertaken several high-risk missions.

Patrol 7 returned at 1:29UST, and followed normal docking procedures. Everything went as planned, and the F-144E’s slid into the carriers docking bay smoothly.

On the bridge, several commanders and an admiral sat down in their soft, leather chairs. The 27th of June was just another day, routine patrols and nothing really important. The times of conflict had been gone since years, and the Vonari hadn’t been seen since decades. It was a safe, but boring time for the space navy. These admirals had once been each others enemy’s, but the Terran Space-treaty had ended it all. Now, they sat down and several of them sipped from their drinks. There was laughter, as a claxon sounded in the commanders room. Patrol 3 had also returned safely. They would set course for their destination, which was the carrier repair facility at Pisces.

In the control room of the Bentley, two men stared at large consoles. On it were several value’s, a radar system and graphics. Simultaneously, several yellow blips appeared on the radar. Nearby. Impossible, they can’t be that near. The radar scans over 4000 units. One of the men stood up. They are within firing range!

On the other side of the hull, space seemed to vibrate for a few seconds, as the cloaking of a small fleet of UFA-80’s ceased work. Then, the serenity of the scene was quickly disturbed as the UFA-80’s started firing at the Bentley, while several took position in front of the docking bay doors. As the purple shields flared, the hull suddenly revealed the defensive systems of the Zenith-class carrier. Hatches slid aside, presenting the attackers with high-pulse turret systems.

The Admiral was looking at the assault from the bridge. UFA-80’s. What… Why? Several UFA-80’s started focussing on the back of the carrier, on the engine. Turrets shot greenish laserbeams at the attackers, who were professionally swinging their crafts away from the fire. It seemed as if these turrets had lost their touch after their long period of inactivity. Every missing salvo was replied to with a sudden dive towards the Bentley, combined with laser fire. The flaring of the shield was less intense already. The shields power was dropping quickly. The Admiral suddenly understood why a small army of UFA-80’s was attacking. They were all carrying the Federation emblem. Federation… why those… He shouted. “Damn Federation fighters, radio HQ!�

Two of the commanders in the room turned jumped at the Admiral. Several other commanders had to calm them.

The Admiral realized that several of the commanders had been Federation pilots once. He mumbled some apologies.

The two men in the control room started radioing the message to all Alliance ships in the near vicinity of the Bentley. But on their screens one of the value’s was dropping like a brick. The shields power dropped to zero as they started radioing their message for the third time.

Outside, Lieutenant Dirk Jermany pointed his UFA at the Bentley once more. The radio they had disassembled from one of the F-144E’s was sitting behind his chair, and had been recieving the mayday message from the Bentley for two times now. It was sure some ships had received the message. The shields had vanished from the carrier, and the UFA’s suddenly swing away from the ABC Bentley, except for Jermany’s craft. Jermany once more mumbled a sentence about the Federation. Enough. Don’t overdo it Jermany. They’ll fall for this set-up. Then he removed the safety from his missile button and aimed at the Bentley. Sarrickson, poor fool. Something like this requires more casualties than just a single one. Two seconds later, a slow missile took a stable course at the defenseless carrier. And the next target would be the officer who had fired me. He will take the bait and come to me. The last of the UFA’s turned away from the Bentley and suddenly sped up. Before the Fulcrum Torpedo could tear into the hull of the Bentley, he had disappeared in a purple flash.


Chapter 8 – Isolated Walls – June 26 – 15:30 UST

“No, no no no. It just doesn’t happen like that.�
“Dear, listen to me. There is no trace of combat, they are just gone. They haven’t been attacked, there is no scrap, there is nothing. Okay?�
“It’s not okay!�
“I’m taking you off this case. I’d rather see you waste time on something useful instead of this.�

She was startled by this sudden counter. She had been attacking his theory of electronic pulses influencing the Fulcrum Drive for the past 20 minutes, and now suddenly he took her off the case.

“What?� – not really a overwhelming reply, she realized. Her thoughts had been completely paralyzed for a moment.
“I’m assigning you to another case as soon as one pops up. It’s no use to investigate accidents without any traces. You spent a full day working on nothing, and I’m not allowing you to waste another on it.�

She realized she was probably having a very hostile attitude and look. She tried to smile. It was a weak attempt at a smile, a very grim smile. It disappeared as quick as it had appeared.

“And I’m giving you a day off.�
“I don’t want a day off.�
“Then I order you to go home, detective.�

She realized it was no use. Damn. Why can no one understand five elite pilots in the best ship ever built don’t just disappear? The F-144 had been the proud of the Alliance for many years, and although it had an upcoming successor, under the codename Wraith, it was still one of the most reliable crafts ever made.

She hesitated. It’s no use anyway. She slowly nodded.

“Okay�. A short pause. “Good day, Sir�.
“Have a nice day, dear.�

She turned around, and went home. What an idiot. It just doesn’t happen. It doesn’t! But what happened then? Well, she would never know. The pilots would probably be dead by now. It had been two full days since they disappeared, and the life support and fuel range of a normal F-144E was 20 hours. The emergency pod contained half of these supply’s, so, if it really was a Fulcrum Drive malfunction, probably they would be out of fuel already, and waiting to die from thirst or starvation. If it was something else, if they had been attacked they were dead now anyway.

But the pilots weren’t dead at all. At least, for the moment. Curtis Williams of the ACC Catamaran escort squadron woke up in a small cell. Where am I? He was alone. He suddenly recalled everything that happened. It ain’t no dream. He found some food and a cup of water lying next to him. Who did this to me?! There was a bed, and the whole cell covered not more than several square meters. What time is it? He shouted for anyone. “Hello!�. Someone must be able to hear me. There was no reply. Isolated walls. Could anyone hear him through that metal door? How thick is it? He laid his ear against it and tapped the door. He concluded it wasn’t too thick, but quite solid. Won’t be able to force the door. His stomach rumbled. He took the food, sat down on the bed, and started his simple meal. They needed the Star Wraiths – they would dispose of the pilots later. With this depressing idea in mind, he took a sip of his water.


Chapter 9 – Crackle – June 27 – 1:40

“This is the ABC Bentley at 3243, minus 4521, 5045 at Pearl. One-Thirty-four UST. We are under attack by crafts bearing the Federation emblem. Need immediate backup. Mayday. Mayday.�

The small box on the table repeated the same message three times before the recording ended. The ABC Bentley, a Zenith class battlecarrier was gone. Destroyed by Federation forces, as the message clearly stated. Several high-ranking Alliance officers sat around the table. There was a grim atmosphere, and a difficult silence had been filling the room ever since the last mayday had been interrupted by a loud crackle.

“Any questions?�
One of the officers raised his hand. The officer at the head of the table nodded.
“How certain can we be that this is a Federation attack?�
“Quite. The attackers carried the emblem, and Federation HQ has not contacted us yet. Several small Federation cells claim that they are not involved, but also for them, all connections to their HQ have been rejected.�
“Is this broadcast all proof we have of a Federation breach of cease-fire?�
“No, we’ve got a record of intercepted enemy transmissions.�
One of the officers, wearing a nameplate with the inscription “Off. Leon Snyder�, started to seem impatient.
“Let us hear those records then?�

The reply was a short nod, and a hesitant push on the play button of a small box that was just put on the table.

There was noise. A lot of noise. The sound of a flaring shield. This pilot was dodging turretfire, judging from the continuos sound of laserfire. These sounds weren’t real, they were created by the ship computer to give pilots an edge by listening to where the fire came from. A voice suddenly broke the noise.
“Take it out.�
Again, the sound of flaring shields.
“HQ will be happy about this success.�
“Yes, the Federation shall rule Terran space!�
“For the Federation!�
Then, the sound of missile lock.
The pilot repeated the “For the Federation!�, but now mumbling. Then, the sound of a missile being launched from the ship, almost directly followed by the sound of a Fulcrum Drive being engaged. Then the recording ended with a female voice stating that the connection was lost due to distance.

Several angry reactions. “The bastards!�
The same hand as before raised. “Matthew?�
“Do you think they knew of the passenger?�
“Why else would they pick the Bentley?�
One of the men who had just been mumbling something about “Federation scum can’t be trusted� spoke out what he thought of the situation.
“This was a assassination in cold blood. They murdered him!�

The mood in the room was explosive.
“Please gentlemen, please calm down. We’ll give the Federation twelve hours. Any more incidents, and we’ll rally our forces. In the meanwhile, we’ll retreat all our crafts from Orion. Let’s not have this…�
He took another look around the room. “…incident cause immediate war. Let’s give them a chance to explain.�
“Twelve hours, officer. No more than twelve hours.�

“I told you. Federation scum can’t be trusted!�
“We know, Snyder. Calm down!�
Officer Snyder was shouting now. “Calm down? They just killed one of us! One of the leaders of the Alliance, an officer! They murdered him!�
“Yes, Leon, we all mourn for the loss of Henry.�
“We shouldn’t mourn. We should have our revenge.�
“There is a good possibility you’ll have your revenge in twelve hours.�


Chapter 10 – Sabotage – June 26 – 1:00 UST

Captain Sarrickson was certain he would be recognized. He had traded the uniform he usually wore in this building for an engineering costume. He had an unreachable itch on his chin. Don’t itch. He was wearing a fake beard and colored lenses. He was praying he would be able to leave his former HQ as quickly as possible, before someone would shout his name. He was officially dead, after all.

He had planned his death very carefully. He had put an explosive in his ship, and set it to explode just after reaching the nebula, exactly five seconds after the voice sensitive system had registered the female voice of the ships computer indicating they had entered the nebula.. He had climbed into his emergency pod, and waited until his ship reached the nebula, and the computer confirmed this. Then, he had waited a second so that the radar of his colleagues wouldn’t be able to pick up the escape pod due to the nebula. Then he launched away from his UFA-80. The explosion had rocked his escape pod, but the UFA-25 waiting for him had picked him up in less than a minute. He had seen his burial on the news, and was surprised about all the people mourning about him.

He had reached his goal, the system bay. He opened a hatch and slid down into the cable room. Here thick cables connected all systems, and he had made sure he was to inspect this specific room. No one except for the engineers ever came down here.

He put down his toolbox on the floor. He was ducking, he couldn’t stand upright in this area. He had visited this room five days ago. Alive. He had checked the drawings and left a small marker right below the communications systems. He was searching for this marker now. It was an unsuspicious marker, nothing more than a small screw on the floor. He was hoping no one would’ve removed it.

He crawled around for nearly five minutes before he concluded it was gone. He would have to take a gamble, and searched for the right spot. He estimated the distance from the hatch and the direction, and ended up right below some console. He opened his toolbox, took a small black box from it and attached it to the cables coming from the console. Several digits lit up on the box. He took a look at his watch. It was 12:35UST. He held down several buttons, and then pressed the large button. He repeated the process at several places in the cable room.

As he left the Cable room, the digits were counting down. The display read 23:30:12 as he closed the hatch behind him. Tomorrow at exactly 0:25 the counter would reach the zero point. It would take the Federation at least 24 hours to have everything repaired. The lack of electricity would have them locked up in HQ, unable to reach anyone or anything. The next shift would be at 12:30UST, so they had twelve hours to stage an Alliance attack at the Federation. They would think of the explosions as Alliance sabotage – while everybody else would think of the HQ being locked down for red alert.

Sarrickson didn’t allow himself a quick pause. He left Federation HQ immediately, and after passing the docking bay and the last guard and control point, he disappeared into the crowd. He dropped the toolbox with the traces of the explosive into a garbage bin two blocks further. Then, he headed straight for the local spaceport.


Chapter 11 – Pay Day – June 27 – 2:45 UST

Officer Snyder had just left the conference room, and was heading towards the freighter bay. He would have an escorted Transport back to his post at Pisces. He was furious. 12 hours? We should strike right now!

Alliance HQ was an impressive building, and as large as it was impressive. Walking through the repetitive hallways, Leon Snyder was certain the Federation had betrayed them. His thoughts started to play with him now.

He found himself sitting at a round table. A large, teak-wood table. It had been an relaxing conversation. At his half of the table were the 12 most important persons in the Alliance. The other half had been occupied by Federation representatives. They had been young. Almost 10 years had passed. Henry was there, Matthew had been there too. They had been good friends from the beginning of their career at the Alliance. They had flown in the 53rd Raven squadron, before all three of them had been promoted to the 14th Star Wraith squadron. From there, their rank had been catapulted upwards until they found themselves negotiating a possible treaty with the Federation.

He walked into the Hangar of his Transporter, and several pilots greeted him. He mumbled back some greetings and appreciation for his escort. He was loved for his humility, as he would never forget lower-ranking people still offered him a service. The Transporters engines started to glow subtly as he walked to the mobile elevator which was located at the entrance of the Transporter.

Two identical papers circulated the table. Both of them went clockwise, and every person at the table signed it as it passed his location. Less than two minutes later, the table had been completely silent as the papers had returned to their original location. Both of the papers now had been signed 24 times, by the most powerful people in the universe. Snyder had suddenly realized he was among these people.

Snyders thoughts were interrupted by a sudden movement. The Transporter had been flying stable at Fulcrum Speed for almost twenty minutes, and they had just entered the B-ring of Sapphire. They had slowed down as Evochron sector rules stated that arrivals from other sectors had to slow down for scanning. They had to pass by on of the arrival stations, and then fly towards the B-ring. From there, they would be allowed to use the Fulcrum Drive. Alliance was desperately trying to create a system similar to the Sol sector in Evochron, but their power was still too limited to create an organized space-travelling system. Snyder ironically smiled as he realized the only ones obeying Alliance rules in this sector were Alliance officials.

The sector was still the same anarchistic pile of rubbish it had been when it was first colonized. Ever since the Vonari invaded the sector in 2288, it had been like this. The people felt as if they had protected themselves, the Mercenary war as they called it. Idiots. They didn’t realize that the Alliance had been organizing all the attacks, including the decisive attack inside the Vonari sector. They equipped those mercenaries with the most powerful weapons ever made, the experimental Fulcrum Torpedo’s.

The escort was flying at stable distance from the Transporter. Everything was calm, and the radio only buzzed around some of the usual chit-chat. None of the pilots reacted fast enough to prevent the de-cloaking, high velocity craft from firing two missiles at the Transporter, before it quickly accelerated to warp speed. In less than a second, the first Exodus missile reached the ship and impacted, and the attacker had disappeared through an already closing purplish portal.

The last thing Officer Snyder thought was: ‘And yet, those ignorant people wrote their own history by claiming the Alliance had abandoned them.’

Then, the second missile tore apart the Transporters hull. Jermany’s revenge was almost complete.

Alliance HQ was shocked as the news reached them less than half a minute later. The escorting squadron sent the following textual message:

“Officer Snyder assassinated in a well-prepared attack. No other ships damaged/attacked. Returning to base.�


Chapter 12 – Lockdown – June 27 – 0:25

In the system bay of the Federations Headquarter, several mainframes lit the room with an eerie glow. The constant, frequent beep of the main computer was the only thing breaking the silence of the isolated room. A cable ran from the back of this computer down to the cable room, following the roof of this dark area, almost half the height of an adult human. But instead of completely dark, there was a subtle, red glow somewhere in the center of the room. A small box read six digits. Five of them were zeros, and the last one was counting down to that same digit.

In the main hall, the doors had been closed for almost 30 minutes. The last group of people had left the building half an hour ago, the high officials and the likes. Officer Tipper and Graham, Admiral Green and several top-members of the Alliance had been the last to leave the building, before the doors closed for half a day. These armored doors were controlled by the communications computer, and were programmed to only open for crew-shifts. Not that it mattered, at this early hour, no one was outside on the streets. They had seen some people pass by in the past minutes, but most of them were youth returning from a party, or bums searching for money or food. The next shift would be in 12 hours, including all the secondary schedules and breaks. Guards sat at their post, playing a small game. Several clerks stressed around the main hall, hurrying to deliver their messages to their destination.

Something weird was going on. Over the past five minutes, there had been an unexpected amount of business. Normally, it would be dead-calm in the main hall. But it wasn’t. People were running around as if apocalypse itself was nearing. They had even seen officials head for the officers room.

One of the guards was considering his next move. Then, suddenly, he couldn’t see what he was doing. The entire hall went dark as the timer should have reached 3 seconds below zero. However, the timer was gone. In its place, there was a huge ball of fire, expanding, divulging anything in its path.

The explosion rocked the entire station, and everything went dark for a few moments. The guard was looking around surprised. He had heard a loud noise, there had been a light quake in the building, and everything had gone dark. Then, the light came back on – dimmer as usual, but back on.

The emergency generators started to omit a buzzing sound as they sprang to life. In the command room, all of the most crucial systems booted back on. All screens displayed a security test, and on every single one except for the communication screen, appeared a green confirmation. The communication screen remained black.

The doors clicked as they shut. Everyone inside the building was locked away from the normal world. The radio remained silent, people started knocking on the many closed doors inside the building, no longer controlled by the communication computer.

There was a security protocol which prevented the loss of the communication computer, or the lockdown of the doors. A small security system in the system bay had monitored the temperature. If it rose to dangerous levels, it was supposed unlock all doors in the building. But one of the many explosions in the room had taken out the computer before the system had even time to register the sudden increase in temperature.

Federation HQ was under lockdown by the burning system bay. Extinguishing the fires, restoring communications, repairing everything would take hours.

And in less than two hours, Alliance HQ would repeatedly try to contact them about the pending attack on the ABC Bentley.


Chapter 13 – The straw - June 27 – 0:20 UST

Strange…
Former Federation Officer and leader Brian Johnson Tipper was troubled by the red light flashing at the speaker which had been sending and receiving encrypted signals from Federation HQ. The ship had been constantly updating its position to a computer at HQ, but the flashing light indicated this was no longer the case.

The pilot had been indifferent about the light. He had mumbled a few curses about unreliable sector-wide communication, and then stared at the window again. Nebulae, asteroids, so many factors could contribute to such a temporary problem.

Brian however, had been trained by veterans of the Vonari war. He had little experience in large fights, but he had learned to trust his instincts. And his instincts told him there was something wrong. A red flickering light normally wouldn’t trouble him this much, but the sudden loss of connection to HQ was as disturbing as it was intriguing. He wondered what kind of thing could cause a sudden loss of connection.

A frightening thought crossed his mind – he saw the building he had just left, burning. Alliance forces had attacked in a surprise attack. No… its far too calm for a galactic war. Mercenary ships flew around, and the normal radio didn’t report any attacks on Federation HQ.

The pilot took a quick glance at the Officer. He was starting to show signs of tiredness – of age. His normally dark brown hair was starting to show signs of small gray hairs. He had been flying Brian Tipper for many years, and they grown to be close friends. Although their contact was purely based on business, they had been talking about life, family and similar things every flight.

Not this flight. The red light had Brian’s full attention. He could see the Officer was hoping that the light would stop flashing, as by a miracle. The pilot stared out of his window again.

In a total reflex, he pulled the steering-stick left harshly, and reached for a small button on the throttle reading “CM�. Instantly, several flares launched out of the ship.

The missile shot less than ten feet past the ship, and the flares completely disabled the missile, which now continued it’s path straight forward.

Brian had been caught off-guard and fell to the ground harshly. The light was still flashing, as the pilot shouted to him to get to a chair and fasten seatbelts. Brian stood up, sat down in the co-pilots seat, strapped his seatbelts tight and took a look at the window.

The quick glance at the radar was even more disturbing than the flashing light. Five F-144E’s were circling their Striker. The usual secondary weapons were loaded: 2 EMP missiles for emergency cases, and 4 Exodus missiles in the case lethal force was required. The pilot selected a target, and Brian started to program the Navigation Console to be able to jump away in case it was needed.

Five extra blips appeared on the radar. These blips were the computers representation of the five EMP missiles which now propelled towards their Striker. Four of them didn’t make their target. Two of them met the laser-fire from the Striker, and two others met the load of flares dropped from the Striker. The fifth one, however, reached it’s destination.

Brian entered the last digit of their destination as a shock went through the Striker. The navigation console went blank – the EMP had worked efficiently. Brian undid his seatbelt, stood up and ran into the cargo bay. The pilot was speeding up now, avoiding as much of the laserfire as possible.

Brian knew better. They were lost. The pilot didn’t have any systems running, no warning for missiles, no indication of where their attackers were located. However, the sound of an explosion pleasantly surprised him.

Suddenly, the pilot realized what was going on. F-144E’s!. “Brian!�

Brian picked up the emergency transmitter from his bag and took a look in the direction of the shout.
“These are Alliance crafts!�
Brian now understood. The communication… the assault. He nodded as he started to speak into the transmitter.


Chapter 14 – Full Circle – June 27 – 0:23 UST

The communication room in Federation HQ was near silent. There was but one voice speaking. He had identified himself as Brian Johnson Tipper, and he was talking over encrypted Federation-only channels.

“This is Officer Brian Johnson Tipper for Federation HQ.�
“We read you.�
There was a sudden noise as the Striker maneuvered to the left. They heard the sound of the transmitter falling to the ground. Brian continued his talking, and his voice became louder as he crawled towards the transmitter.
“We are under attack by five F-144E’s, situation critical�

The pilot had been drifting without IDS, spinning around to discover missiles without his systems. He had seen a bright, blue dot, and now pulled out of the spin. The afterburner lit up, sending a rumble through the ship. Brian, in the cargo bay, was swung through the room against one of the walls. He held the transmitter firmly and as he fell down on the ground, continued talking.

“Our systems have been disabled by EMP. This is a well-organized assault. One hostile down. Four of them left.�

In the communications room, two men had been listening to the transmission. One of them removed his headset, stood up, ran towards the door, and instead of passing through, reached for one of the two small boxes attached to the wall. Is this Red Alert, or should I alert only the Officials?. He hesitated for a second, then made a fist and hit through the glass. It broke instantly, and the sign “O.R.A.� above the box explained what was happening now. The Officials Red Alert alerted all highly ranked people inside HQ of a situation. He ran back, but the signal was gone. His colleague appeared as if he had seen a ghost. The pale man stood up, ejected the recording tape, and ran out of the room.

The Officials room was silent. Five men were staring out in front of them. Several of them seemed severely shocked. The only thing moving was a surveillance camera in the corner of the room, indifferently panning around at given intervals.

From the guard room, one of the guards had been monitoring the sudden activity in the officers room. The camera did not record audio. All he had seen was them gathering, having a clearly serious conversation about something rather grave, and then one of them pulled out a recorder. They were listening to it now.

“This is a well-organized assault. One hostile down. Four of them left.�
There was a short silence. In the background, someone shouted something not hearable. The pilot, probably.

The silence was broken by something. Something which proved the claim just made. One of the radio-surveillants had ran into the room, put down the recorder on the table and, catching his breath, shouted that it was war.

Brian seemed to gather his strengths. He breathed in deeply. He had just concluded his final message. It was war. The unexplainable had happened, the Alliance had betrayed them. He recalled his final message to HQ.

“The attackers are bearing Alliance emblems. Squadron of five, flying Alliance flag. I repeat. We are under attack by Alliance crafts.�

This last message echoed through the officers room several times. Then, it was silent.

Brian stared at the stars. He knew it was over. After he had concluded his ‘mayday’, they had suddenly circled around them and fired from four directions. The missiles would impact at any moment. They could’ve taken the Striker out long ago. Why did they hold back?

The pilot took a glance at Brian. It would be over in a matter of seconds. Officer Tipper was sunken in his thoughts. His thinking expression suddenly disappeared as Officer Brian Johnson Tipper understood what had happened. He took a sudden sprint towards the emergency transmitter.

Two of the missiles impact as Brian dove for the transmitter. The first missile slammed onto the shield, and alerts started to sound through the Striker. Almost instantly, another explosion. Then, silence…

[Jeremy]

Are there any new chapters on the way, Rami? (Please? )

After reading that story several times it never occured to me until now that at the end Officer Tipper figured out that it was a setup to get the war started. Ah well, I'm just slow...

Jeremy

[tha_rami]

I should try and clarify that a little bit. The trick ofcourse was that the attackers held back until Officer Tipper sent the mayday combined with the message that he was attacked by Alliance crafts. New chapters are almost done, part two will be named 'Diplomacy'.

[Jeremy]

I'll be waiting!

Jeremy

[tha_rami]

All I can post is a little preview on the events in Part 3, which IS done already. I'm having difficulties making the Diplomatics fail. So, here goes, the first chapter of Part 2, which is actually a small hint towards the end of part 2, and the start of part 3. How much more vague can I be? Well, you'll know that after reading this. At chapter two of part 2 everything will become clear.

Part 2 - Diplomacy

It was dark. The only things illuminating the scene were stars and blue lights, and yet the presence of a human-shaped silhouette seemed to imply that this was not actually open space. The blue lights, in turn, came from an orbital station. It was buzzing with activity, the silhouette knew, as just a few moments ago, something big had been reported over the television.

He had been told to await that certain event, and then complete his task. A simple task, almost too simple. But payment would be well. His contractor had promised him wealth and secrecy.

He turned to watch the stars. Above him, he could also see stars, but those seemed blurred by something. A liquid was distorting his view, while sometimes a small silhouette passed between the light emitted a long time ago by the star he was watching. He knew what he was looking through.

He also knew that looking at his feet would give him a similar view. Only to his left, he would get a clear view of space. On his right was the entrance to the area he was now standing in. The hallway was dark as well. He knew the hallway encircled almost the entire room. It was a strange architectural manifest, this place.

The man took another look around. Suddenly, he seemed to gather his thoughts again. The silhouette took something from his belt and wore it over his face. A small green light lit up, indicating the equipment had activated.

He now saw clearly in the dark, his breath came from a reservoir on his back. His clothing would be protective enough for this liquid. He searched the floor for something he knew there was. His contractor had told him so. After a short search, he found it nearby the huge circular table in the room.

The hatch opened without any effort. He checked his equipments indicator one more time, and then plunged into the liquid that had distorted his view. He swam around until he found a spot he considered out of sight, near one of the few synthetic rocks that floated around in the liquid. Or no, they were attached to something. They were actually hollow, he had been told. The silhouette knocked on one of the rocks and nodded in amazement. He had been told right. He took another tool from his belt, and in a matter of minutes had hidden his cargo inside the rock.

It was a strange view, floating around with an invisible border between you and space. Astronauts are trained in water, in a similar liquid… is this what space-walks feels like? He took some steps against the invisible separator between liquid and emptiness. Then, he swam upwards again. He had succeeded. Now he had to cover his tracks. And again, his contractor had provided an excellent method. He drove a small maintenance car that had been parked near the service entrance to the hatch, and put his gear inside it. The air-reservoir, the protective suit, everything fitted perfectly.

He took the car, and left, greeting friendly at the guards who opened the service doors for him. He drove the car into a awaiting spacecraft and took off. It was a matter of time now. Little time.

[Edited on 23-9-06 by tha_rami]

[tha_rami]

Chapter 15 – Awakening – June 27 – 23:00 UST

Curtis Williams awoke from his slumber. It was dark, but he knew his surroundings. Four, massive, concrete walls, one of them leaving only an opening for a massive door. Through the small window at the back of his cell, he saw the exhaust glow of a large craft. The subtle rocking of his cell indicated he was indeed aboard a capital ship. He glanced a bit longer, and he could see the stars twinkling.

He was not the only one staring at the stars. Light-years away, Jenna was staring at those same stars. She had been lying awake, reliving the last few days. So much had happened. Only today, Federation and Alliance officials had been declaring the other faction had broken the cease-fire. The ABC Bentley had been destroyed by UFA’s, Federation HQ had been bombed. A high-ranking officer had been assassinated. Officer Tipper or something. And this officer from the Alliance only two hours before Tipper. Possibly, the Federation was behind the disappearance of those F-144E’s a few days ago. She had never believed it to be an accident. It was too clean to be an accident.

She was trying to fit together the pieces of the puzzle. But it felt as if she was missing a piece. Something isn’t right. She would request the Bentley-case tomorrow. From there she could investigate the F-144E case too, if the two were connected at all.

She turned on the television. Switching the channels, she saw the news reports of the past day repeated.

“We’re now switching to our correspondent on Thuban. You’re in front of the Federation HQ, any news?�

A man appeared in front of a large building. He was holding a microphone and talking rapidly.
“Yes, there have been some rumors of a bombing by Alliance spies. Federation officials have not reacted yet, except for that they believed the attack to be an ‘accurate and well-prepared’ assault. Investigators have confirmed that the type of explosive was…�
How would théy know that? That is classified information!
“… A type of explosive used in Alliance missiles. Alliance HQ has not yet reacted on the bombing, as they hold the Federation responsible for the destruction of the ABC Bentley earlier today.�

Video footage of a Zenith-class carrier emerging from the space-hangar filled the screen now, while the voice continued. “…The Federation claims they are not involved in the destruction of the carrier nor the assassination of Officer Snyder. They hold the Alliance assassination of officer Brian Johnson Tipper as a premature action, and claim this assassination was a clear indication of wanting to break the cease-fire. Officials of both parties will start negotiating officially tomorrow at New Hope, but undoubtedly talks have already started.�

Jenna sighed. She knew how those talks would go. She knew the leaders of both factions, and surely, everyone had heard of the hatred of some of these key-figures for the other faction. She turned off the television. It was late, and she had to go to work tomorrow early. She would request the Bentley case, and if she wouldn’t get it, the case of Tipper. She took another look at the stars through the window, and closed her eyes.

Curtis Williams laid back on his concrete bed. He was wondering what they wanted with those F-144E’s. He hadn’t spoken to his squadron, only to the guard bringing him the food twice. It had been short conversations, more the usual polite speak than actual chatter. He wouldn’t get news from that guy for sure. He needed to stop thinking of what happened – he needed to start thinking what to do next. But would there be a next? The cells walls seemed to close in on him. Nothing to do, nowhere to go. What did they do with those crafts? What will they do with us? He had heard the radio. The news had been disturbing. An Alliance carrier had been destroyed by Federation crafts, and the Alliance repaid the Federation by killing one of their top-officers. His thoughts drifted back to the crafts. Why do they need F-144E’s? The UFA-80 is nearly as capable as the Wraith. It didn’t make sense. He, too, closed his eyes.

On New Hope, the last security preparations were made to receive the leaders of the most powerful factions of the universe. In the center of the station was a huge glass, sound-isolated, shielded dome with in the middle a round table. Twenty-four nameplates were located around the table. Two places would remain empty. The nameplates had been put there as a memory to the officers who should have sat there.

The nameplates read Alliance Officer Leon Snyder and Federation Officer Brian Johnson Tipper.

Chapter 16 – Peace Dome – June 28 – 08:00UST

Several crafts had been docking under strict protocols at New Hope station for the past hour. New Hope station had always been the center of peace, treaties, and negotiations, and this time would be no different. Two groups of eleven, official looking men had been gathering for the opening of the negotiations at 8:00.

The atmosphere was tense. These negotiations would influence the future of humanity, of the stable situation which a lot of people had known for their whole lives. A stable situation which resulted in formal peace in 2354. But now, all this was on the brink of being undone by a chain of events.

The dome was an impressive structure 30 meter high at the center of New Hope station. A complete sphere of glass, held in place by a metal skeleton. The floor was on about a forth of the height of the dome, and also of a strengthened type of glass. Below it was an aquarium, filled with colored fish and bright, clean water. The roof was at the same distance from the top pole as the floor was from the bottom. Above it was again, an aquarium. All in all, it was a huge and calming surrounding. In the sides were four glass doors, of which two would remain locked.

The two other doors opened, and the officials got inside. The twenty-four chairs surrounding the wooden table slowly filled with the people according to the name-plates.

It was a fully symmetrical scene, except for the people sitting on the chairs. They had a grim expression in common. At the Alliance side, one person stood up. His nameplate read ‘Off. Bradley’.

Officer Bradley was the most important leader of the Alliance. He had always hated the Federation, but he honored the treaty, and he was not planning on giving up peace. However, he wanted to get the attacking role in the discussion, and he knew just how to get that in such a way that they knew he didn’t like them at all.

“Gentlemen, I am Jonathan Bradley of the Alliance. Several things have been happening yesterday, and I demand at least an explanation for what happened.�

Several Federation leaders looked up at him, emotions ranging from offended to surprised. This was no way to start peace negotiations. Jonathan continued:

“There have been casualties, important casualties. Unnecessary ones. I plan on commemorating their deaths with successful negotiations. There have been errors on both factions behalves, and I would like to invite you to explain what happened exactly yesterday.�

Federation officer Jackson had heard enough, he stood up and started to talk as Jonathan sat down again. The atmosphere was as tense as it had been before the talks started.

“Sir Bradley. I don’t know who you think you are, but I think it would be no less than appropriate to explain why our Headquarter was sabotaged and bombed by your men?�

Several Alliance officials stood up. The fastest one shouted in reply.
“We have already stated that no Alliance forces were involved in those bombings.�
“No, of course not. Bombs go off, your forces attack carriers, assassinate officials, but you’re not involved.�
“How about Leon? How about the Bentley?�
“We’ve checked our registers. There are no entries of orders for both actions.�
“No, I wouldn’t have expected you to leave something like that in the archives.�
“Are you accusing us of fraud?�
“I am not�. A short pause made the words which followed even heavier. “I am accusing you of breaking terms.�

Jonathan stood up. This was unavoidable. However, this way negotiations would go nowhere. What happened had happened. The attacks had taken place, and they had proof that Alliance officials had not been involved in the attacks. They had all records of the 27th of June.

“Gentlemen. Please, calm down. Talking about what happened will only help us understand what happened. Officer Gerardson. Would you be so kind as to explain us precisely what happened in Federation HQ yesterday?�

Chapter 17 – Bentley Revisited – June 28 – 08:30UST

Jenna had just entered her office. Francis, her colleague wasn’t there yet, and she had no problems with that. She quickly booted up her PC and scanned a small disc. The request for the Bentley case she had been typing yesterday appeared on the screen, and she forwarded it to her superiors.

It was almost 9:00 before she got the reply. Francis had already arrived and was busy typing the report of some investigation he had been working on for some days now. He was intensely staring at his screen, typing as clear as possible.

The reply was as she had hoped. She was assigned to the Bentley case, along with her usual team. She had requested Francis and Leroy to be allowed to work with her. Now, she just had to convince them to work along with her. She would explain why she wanted this case, and if they didn’t want to cooperate, well, too bad. She was going to do this case, alone or with her team.

“Francis?�
“Yes, dear?�
He had called her dear for as long as they knew each other. She had become accustomed to it, and she knew he meant nothing special with it.
“You interested in investigation the Bentley case?�
“What?�
“The Bentley case.�
“Why did they place you in the Bentley team? It’s huge.�
“Yeah, it is. That’s why I requested to be put in charge of the investigation.�
“You… what? Why?�
“I think it could be connected to the F-144E’s.�
“Right. You think the Federation is involved?�
“Could be. I just think the case is big.�

Francis took a look at his screen. He hesitated.

“Give me twenty minutes. I’ll finish this report and we’ll meet up in the briefing room. Who’s along? Leroy?�
“You, Leroy and me. I’ve reserved room 5.�

Francis nodded.
Jenna nodded back at him and smiled. She picked up her phone and pressed the quick-dial number, followed by a ‘2’. The phone rang three times before a man answered it.

“Michael Leroy�
“Hey Michael, Jenna here.�
“Jenna, what’s up?�
“I’ve been put in charge of the Bentley team. You in?�
“Why not?�
“Great, knew I could count on you.�
“Any time. When do we meet?�
“Twenty minutes in BR-five.�

She put down the phone. Francis hesitated for a few moments.

“Dear?�
“Yes?�
“Are you sure?�
“Definitely. What’s on your mind?�
“I think the case is big. It’s too big. We might stumble across something… important.�
“Scared?�
“Yes, for your sake.�

Chapter 18 – Tension – June 28 – 10:00

The glass dome had been the theatre of passionate discussions for over two hours. Two men had taken the lead of the discussion, every now and then interrupted by one of the other 20 people in the room. Officer Bradley had just countered Jackson’s claim about the assassination of William Snyder. He put a small box on the table and scanned his finger. The box began playing.

“Take it out.�
The sound of flaring shields.
“HQ will be happy about this success.�
“Yes, the Federation shall rule Terran space!�
“We’ve been surpressed for long enough now.�
Then, the sound of missile lock.
“For the Federation…�

The recording ended with a small click. This click was the omen of total silence, and a subtle smile appeared around Bradley’s mouth. The Federation officials seemed shocked. The box remained on the table, silent now.

He took a peek at Jackson. However, the expression of Jackson’s face was disturbing. Jackson smiled grimly, as if he had prepared such a moment and was now in a state of acceptance for his coming action.

Jackson remained silent, but now grabbed a similar box from his pocket. He repeated Bradley’s actions for his own player.

A second click ended the silence as noise started to fill the room again. After a few seconds, it was interrupted by a voice.

“This is Officer Brian Johnson Tipper for Federation HQ.�
“We read you.�
“We are under attack by five F-144E’s, situation critical�
A noise, the sound of something falling to the floor.
“Our systems have been disabled by EMP. This is a well-organized assault. One hostile down. Four of them left.� – static. A short pause.
“This is a well-organized assault. One hostile down. Four of them left.�
“The attackers are bearing Alliance emblems. Squadron of five, flying Alliance flag. I repeat. We are under attack by Alliance crafts.

The third click silenced the entire room. The smiles faded, the situation was darker than ever.

Fishes serenely swam in their aquariums. They didn’t know, didn’t understand that right above their heads were people deciding over life and death. They didn’t care.

Jackson took the word.

“Well, as you can hear, sir Bradley, I think this makes us even.�
“I’m afraid not, Officer Jackson. In our recording, it’s your pilots speaking. In your recording there just proof of ships wearing our emblem.�
“This was a cold-hearted assassination, with 5 of your ships. Don’t give me that crap!�
“I’m just reading the facts�
“Facts? What facts do we have? Wreckage’s and a smoking HQ! Voices mean nothing. Voices can be faked!�
“Are you implying we’ve created a voice recording? A fake?�
“No, I’m just saying it’s a possibility.�
“Who says your recording isn’t a fake?�
“I do.�
“Well, so do I about this recording!�

Even the fishes sensed the rising tension above them. They calmed down and dove to the bottom of the peace dome. Every passing minute, the hostilities became more prominent. Anger and hatred started to replace the rationalism of all people present. War seemed inevitable.

Chapter 19 – Factual Errors – June 28 – 12:00UST

Inside a huge sterile room, piles of debris and wreckages were being kept besides several huge databanks for investigation of highly classified cases. Jenna and her team had been granted access to investigate the Bentley debris, consisting out of several pieces of shattered hull and retrieved data from the black box and systems. The carriers remains and systems had been declared classified, but they had gotten clearance to investigate the hardware subsystems.

“Leroy, Francis!�
Both men appeared from behind another pile of scrap. “What’s up, dear?�
“You check these systems for relevant information.�
“Oh, being bossy again?�
“Shut up.� – a small smile appeared around her lips. She turned around and strafed away.
“Definitely being bossy again. But, okay, we’ll do. And you?�
Jenna just waved her hand, and the men started connecting hand-held computers to the systems, downloading all data from them. She had requested the Bentley not because of it’s destruction, no, not in the least.

She walked past several lockers, which she knew contained the hard disks or retrieved data from the carriers systems. She was searching. Navigation… Engine… Media… Course… Generators…

She stopped in front of one of the lockers and opened it with her ID-tag. Quickly she plugged in her handheld, and started scrolling through the files. She hesitated and clicked a entry called “Patrols�. She scrolled to June, 24 and found what she was looking for. She quickly downloaded the data to the hard drive.

The doors of the room opened and a heavily armed soldier stepped inside. Jenna took a quick glance at the screen of the handheld. 12 percent of the file had been downloaded. A small indicator displayed she needed 30 more seconds.

The soldier glanced at Leroy and Francis, who were busy checking some scrap. He turned around and stepped outside again. Jenna let out a relieved sigh. What she was doing was against the rules – she was supposed to check the ship systems for hardware failures and battle reports, not for patrol information. She’d be arrested for hacking or stealing classified information. Jenna thought for a second and turned to her handheld. 30 percent done.

The doors closed behind the soldier, leaving the two investigators behind. Suddenly the soldier stopped in his tracks. He turned around and dashed back towards the door. With the sound of the hydraulics which controlled the door it slowly slid open. He peeked through the increasingly wide gap between the doors.

Francis glanced up.
“So, engine shows no abnomalities?�
“Nope�, Jenna replied, “nothing�.

The soldier took a surprised look at Jenna. He seemed to consider his options and then nodded. He turned around and left for the second time. Not until the doors had fully closed Jenna let out a nervous giggle. “Close one.�
Francis stood up. “Certainly, so would you be so kind to explain us for what reason we just nearly got arrested?�

“Well�, Jenna hesitated. She knew Francis’ opinion about the case of the five mission F-144’s. “I was searching for the…�
It seemed to hit Francis immediately. “Not again! Jenna, listen. Those pilots had an accident!�
“All five of them? Without a trace?�
Leroy stood up as well. “So, you got the patrol information?�
Francis seemed dumbstruck. “What? You into this conspiracy thing too?�
Leroy nodded. “You must admit, it’s strange that five ships just disappear.�
Francis hesitated. Then he sighed. “I guess so. Anyone found anything on the Bentley?�
Leroy seemed to suddenly remember something. “Four cloaked attackers. Signature suggests UFA-80’s. Pretty strange that Federation forces use cloak. They were armed with Torpedo’s anyway – the Bentley wouldn’t have had a chance.�

Jenna nodded. “Unless they didn’t want their victim to get a good look at them.�

Chapter 20 – Breakout – June 28 – 14:00UST

A small group of twelve Striker class interceptors, flanking a small cruiser, approached their target, a lone carrier in the outer area’s of the Pisces system. As if it was completely routine, the Strikers broke up into three squadrons of four ships while the cruiser slowed down. The cruiser hung motionless for a second, the sun reflecting from the metal hull. Surprisingly, the reflection was extremely dim, nearly visually cloaking the entire capital ship.

The leader of the squadron engaging the front of the carrier mumbled some commands into the microphone in his mouthpiece. Immediately, the ships thrusted forwards towards their target.

Curtis lay on his bed, wondering what his next step should be. If I ever get a next step. He had been figuring out plans, trying to escape during his spare toilet-visits, but the two armed guards remained on a safe distance and all doors in the hallway were probably locked. It was a cell-block, after all. He wouldn’t risk his life running into a locked door. The only omen was a sudden red glow in the cell.

From the cruiser, admiring the sudden flares of the targets shield, the pirates captain nodded happily. They had been monitoring this unlisted carrier for a few days, and several highly armored ships had been exchanging cargo with it. He suspected it probably was a smugglers craft, and the careful maneuvering around monitored space indicated they were experienced at their work. He spoke into the intercom, and the speaker throughout the cruiser suddenly turned on.

“Boarding Team, prepare.�

The cruiser suddenly started moving forwards again, towards the target. The cruiser slid sideways, allowing the side turrets to fire at the helpless target. The defense systems were still powering up, and the shields had already lost a good percentage of visual strength. The flares became weaker every time a missile or beam crashed into the ship.

The Strikers diverted from their attacks. They regrouped, now creating a group of eight Strikers boarding back at their base, which was now closing in on the target, and three turning one final time at the target. Three missiles shot forward.

Curtis was looking out of the window, trying to keep his balance in the now more powerfully rocking cell. The three missiles shot straight at the carrier as he saw the three Strikers divert at a black shape which he hadn’t noticed yet. He gasped. Pirates. The outer missiles impacted on the shields, leaving the middle one. Curtis realized suddenly that the third missile, which was coming straight at him, wasn’t impacting on the shield. The shields were gone. He dove of his bed, towards the back of the cell. The missile impacted a few feet above Curtis’ cell on the hull, and he waited for the bang of the decompression. All he saw, however, was a blinding flash.

The black cruiser now hung besides the carrier, and the first boarding lock had already connected and was compressing with a loud hiss. The boarding teams had already gathered near the three boarding locks. They waited until the light turned green and rushed in. Quickly and efficiently, they undid the locks of the doors.

Curtis still saw nothing as he crawled up. He had landed quite harshly on his arm and cursed out loud. He tried to find one of the walls but found none. He stumbled across something on the ground and fell again. He could hear gunfire nearby. He tried to stand up again. Someone grabbed him at his arm and roughly tore him from the ground. Curtis had no choice but to walk along as his sight slowly recovered. He was in a large tunnel with a bright light shining at the end of it. Curtis let the rush take him over completely.

The marine who had been guarding Curtis and his squadron lay on the ground, breathing heavily. He had been shot just below his lungs, and felt he was losing strength. He still held his gun, but he could feel numbness spreading throughout his body. He saw two pair of boots standing next to him. He grimaced and took a look at his enemies. Then, with one fluid move, he raised his gun.

Two shots sounded throughout the station once again. The gun clattered from the dead hands of the guard. His murderers didn’t even take another look at their latest victim. They approached the door of the cargo bay and bashed it open. They found a large hallway with two people laying in it, unconsciously. All five doors were open, and they investigated the cells. They cursed out loud when they found nothing in the cells and continued.

[Edited on 23-9-06 by tha_rami]

[Jeremy]

Love it, great story!
And that's a nice twist at the end where the Carrier they're being held on is attacked by pirates!

Now all we have to do is infiltrate Lazarus into the pirate group, then he can interrogate Curtis, and save the world yet again! Oh wait, Sarrickson was the one who did it... Darn.

Jeremy

[tha_rami]

Gheh, I'm not planning on using ourselves in a story. You can do that so much more fun. Vice shooting 1300 clicks and instantly destroying them all. I'm still laughing about that one. Gheh, you might be surprised at how the story is going to walk from this point on. From here on, everything gets... well, you'll see.

[tha_rami]

Chapter 21 – New Light – June 28 – 14:00UST

Jenna nodded. “Unless they didn’t want their victim to get a good look at them.�

Francis and Leroy glanced at Jenna, who was quickly disconnecting her handheld from the system bay it had been downloading from. She looked back and was surprised at the confused faces of her colleague’s. She walked back to them, raising her eyebrow as if it was completely obvious what she was going to say.

Francis waited another second and then let out a confused “What?�.

“Well�, Jenna said, “It seems pretty strange to me Federation pilots would use Stealth or Fulcrum Torpedo’s when they could’ve finished it with Exodus missiles or something else, and just fly towards the target.�

Leroy nodded. “Yeah, I figured that out as well. Maybe they tried to make it look like a pirates assault?�
Francis seemed thinking. “Guess so, yes.�
Jenna now smiled in self-proclaimed victory. “Or the other way around. A pirates assault, in Federation crafts.�

Again she dumbstruck Francis and Leroy. Leroy understood where Jenna was going. He suddenly started to talk very excited.
“That would, yes, that would fit in everything. Why they… ah damn… but those disappeared Star Wraiths?�
Jenna felt the feeling of victory ebb away instantly. The Wraiths. That didn’t fit the image.
Francis nodded. “Let’s leave those for what they are now.�

Jenna looked up angry. “I’m not leaving them for what they are now! I’m not running out on this case!�
Francis now seemed hurt, but he countered. “Come on, we’ve got no damn idea where those things are and there is no trace. It’s too clean to be an accident, whatever you want, but that means there’s no trace neither.�
Jenna was trying to say something, but suddenly, in unison, their handhelds started to buzz.

Francis had fumbled his out of his jeans pocket fastest, and he read the message. He nodded and sighed.
“Seems we’ve got something else to take care of in this system first.�
Jenna nodded. The message was short and clear: “Unknown object approaching Pisces. Investigate�. Attached were the coordinates, updated every 30 seconds. Leroy was already pacing towards the door.

Forty minutes later Jenna was standing between the seated Leroy and Francis in the cockpit of a small Transporter, with in their view only one, clearly downed carrier. All lights were turned off, and several holes in the hull indicated heavy missile hits. Still, they approached cautiously, from below and behind the carrier, avoiding the line of fire of the turrets. As they sped through from below the engine they fired a small EMP missile at the carrier. The defenses wouldn’t attack them now, and they dove out from below the carrier, searching for an entrance.

Two of the hangar doors were open. Francis hovered the Transporter in front of the doors, deciding to consider which one to take. He quickly realized both doors led to one large hangar, and he flew through. He parked the Transporter between two of the three Star Wraiths in the room and landed it there.

With their space-suits on, they waited until the Transported had decompressed itself. Their magnet-shoes kept them down, but they could clearly feel the disappearing of the pressure on their suits. The doors opened and they started to explore through the hangar.

Next, they started moving through the carrier. The carrier had certainly been downed. The entire ship had been decompressed. They found the system bay and downloaded all possible information they could gather. Jenna seemed surprised to find no flight or ship ID. “Hey, this must’ve been some sort of pirates ship. They got no flight or ship ID�, she mumbled into her mouthpiece�. Leroy glanced up. “That’s impossible. Only government ships can fly without ship ID. All other ships got one�. Jenna sounded annoyed. “Well, just come and look if you don’t believe me.�

Minutes later they found themselves waiting until Leroy had forced a magnetic door open. He had quite some skill at lockpicking, making him a feared guest on the toilets. Leroy always grinned about how he’d open the door on someone. The door opened and Jenna felt a wave of nausea hit her as she saw what was in the room.

The room had two doors, the one they were standing in and one on the opposite side. In the middle of the room, in mid air, floated the dead body of a guard, his blood circling around him in little red spherical balls.


Chapter 22 – Tough Talk – June 28 – 16:30UST

Alliance officer Jonathan Bradley listen to what the Federation officer had to say. Their demands, after hours of negotiating, were as simple as they were absurd. They wanted the Alliance to falsely admit the murder of Officer Brian Tipper. Besides, they expected a full retreat from the Orion sector, a sector which had been under cooperative monitoring since the treaty was empowered. He waited until the list of demands ended.

“Surely you cannot expect us to accept these terms?�
One of the Federation Officers opened his mouth but realized it was a rhetorical question. He remained silent.
Bradley continued. “The Orion sector is united Terran space. You cannot order us to leave, as we can’t order you to leave Sol. Wherever humans live, except for RiftSpace, is considered Terran space since ’47 treaty.�

An Federation officer spoke slowly now. “And you expect us to hone that treaty while you do not?�
One of the younger Alliance Officers jumped up. “No, we expect you to look for what to do next instead of telling us we murdered someone we didn’t. Do we still accuse you?�
The Federation officer flinched, but recovered quickly. “No, you are right. Still, the death of my colleague was brutal and should not be ignored in such negotiations. You can’t expect us to ignore his death.�
“We do not neither, but at any rate, your terms are unacceptable.�

The Peace Dome had seemed the center of the universe for eight hours now. The media coverage was huge, and nearly every large channel had at least two teams ready for capturing the negotiations. They couldn’t hear a thing, but the reactions and expressions of the people inside were a clear enough indication that it was a tough talk.

The reporter of the Thuban Satellite Telecommunications spoke towards the camera pointed at him.
“There’s no apparent change in the negotiations. Analysts claim that the Federation has just announced its terms, the reason for a sudden pause in Alliance counters. The situation still seems tense.�
He put his finger against his ear-piece to hear what was radioed to him.
“Yes, we do. Officer Matthew Edgin has started to interfere in the last few minutes. He’s known as a bright and sharp negotiator, and a pacifist, so that’s a good sign.�
Again he listened to his ear-piece.
He signed off. “You’re welcome, for TST, this is Patrick Harris, near the Peace Dome, New Hope.�
The light on the camera turned off and he sighed. It was an amazing sight, this peace dome. He looked through the glass, watching the two security carriers guarding each other. The ABC Infernus and FRC Predator-II were the two chosen capital ships to secure the area. They were equipped with high powered lasers and weapons. Their shapes seemed to be equally large and growing. They were most probably heading for the border of the safety zone, getting as near as possible without breaching protocol.

Bradley stood up. “So, in fact, you’re proposing that we reshape all of Terran space?�
Federation officer Jackson thought about what Bradley was saying. Then, he nodded.
“With the current tensions we cannot hold a stable sector with two factions in it.�
“Your remark sounds as if we’ll operate fully separately again.�
“If you accept our terms, yes.�

After the words echoed away in the sound-isolated Peace Dome, an awkward silence fell over the table. Jonathan Bradley took a look around the table. He stared at Matthew, who was clearly thinking of something, staring in front of him at the stars. He glanced at the Federation Officers. Most of them had a grim, thinking expression. He wondered what the media was reporting about the negotiations. Everything inside this room remained inside this room. Nobody outside knew what was going on. Federation Officer Jackson let out a deep sigh.

Jonathan Bradley had seen a lot in his life, but he had never suspected it would all come down to one split second. He stared outside of the window and saw the two carriers approaching the point where they would pass the safety border. He saw the reverse thruster light up, slowing both carriers down. Several Officers were staring out of the window now, thinking, deciding the next step.

None of them realized the next step was to be set from a small van, parked on a abandoned parking lot on the surface of New Hope.

Someone put out his cigarette on the table as another person exited the van. The man focussed on the small TV in the van again and waited.

[Edited on 24-9-06 by tha_rami]

[Edited on 7-10-06 by tha_rami]

[Edited on 7-10-06 by tha_rami]

[verbosity]

hey Rami could you email this to me. I'd prefer to read something like this on paper...............


Love it and looking forward to reading it fully...........

[tha_rami]

Yeah, I'll send it to you as soon as I finish it. Need to add several chapters still, I've got chapters 1-21 and 30-45. I'm having the 2nd part ready, the epilogue I've not started working on.

[Jande]

Wow! --I just got through the first part. This is going to take weeks to finish reading! LOL

Too bad Brian died before he could tip off HQ.

Good going, Rami!

... I'll be back to read some more soon.

[tha_rami]

Gheh, reading costs a lot, yeah, but the writing costs even more. I think I've got two months of work (with breaks in them) in this one, and I'm still working out Part 2 (out of 3 Parts). I've got a concept of Part 3 ready.

And in case you didn't notice, I'm trying to have as many side-players disappear or die, lol. Must be frustration or something. But for the main-characters... gheh, you'll have to wait...

[Edited on 4-10-06 by tha_rami]

[tha_rami]

I had chapter 23 posted here. I'm re-writing it as I had missed one simple detail.

[Edited on 7-10-06 by tha_rami]

[tha_rami]

Okay, fixed it another way. What I did is say that the carrier where Curtis and so were captured was completely decompressed. This is not true no longer, the ship was decompressed partly (how else would the people in the cells survive?). The dead guard ain't floating but laying on the floor in the final version.

Chapter 23 – Blur – June 28 – 14:08UST

The veil of darkness temporarily disappeared, to reveal a blurred view of reality. Curtis was still being dragged along. He tried to struggle against his captor, but couldn’t find the strength to resist the firm grip. There were shouts in the background, somewhere in the void of silence. A female voice. He started to distinguish shapes, slowly. Two people were dragging him through a long hallway. Doors passed by on the left and right, but his mind didn’t register them.

It was Jenna who shouted before she realized she shouldn’t have. The two darkly clothed figures turned towards her in a flash, raising their guns while turning. In a split second, in total reflex, she raised her hands. The pirates exchanged a puzzled look before they laughed. She turned her head towards a dumbstruck Leroy, who had his hands raised as well. He seemed petrified, and she noticed his skin had turned pale and his eyes reflected pure fear. Francis was nowhere to be seen. Jenna hoped he got away on time.

Francis was crawling. He was carefully maneuvering, slowly advancing. In his left hand was a heavy metal bar, and he avoided making sound by hitting something with it. He was getting closer, preparing himself for a sudden burst of speed and power.

Jenna stood frozen as the pirates raised their guns. They aimed one at a target, and they had a clear shot. Jenna suddenly felt a surge of guilt raising inside her. She had taken Leroy and Francis along on this case. She had dragged them into death personally.

The seemingly endlessly repeating ceiling of the hallway suddenly ended into a larger room. Curtis was still fighting the increasingly powerful force sucking him into unconsciousness. He was dragged, being captured again. A powerful wave of fear suddenly awoke him a bit. They were approaching a large structure in the middle of the room. He took another look. The structure was a shape he recognized. It was no structure.

Francis took a final deep breath at his hiding place between the crates as the pirates raised their guns. Then, he leaped forwards towards the pirates, swinging the bar at full force. Leroy instinctively leapt forward as well. The metal bar crashed into the back of one of the pirates, throwing him off-balance by this sudden attack. The second pirate realized too late what happened, as Francis ran into him. The gun clattered to the floor, just a arms length away from the pirate, and the pirate dove at Francis before he could swing again. Jenna dove away behind the crates, petrified. She thought again and ran towards the fight. The pirate knocked Francis over and the struggle continued on the ground. Leroy dove at the gun.

Curtis was thinking better, faster. He didn’t recognize the men, wearing blue overalls, the same as his. Who were they? What do they want? Are they transporting me to another cell? Another prison? He was restoring – recognizing the room as a ship hangar and the object he had just mistaken as structure as a fully loaded UFA-80. A Federation craft, he thought – the Federation had us captured?. Then he realized something odd. Next to the UFA-80 was another ship – a Quasar. That’s an Alliance craft. This oddity did not register yet. He was searching for a logical explanation. Then he heard it. Twice. The people carrying him nearly dropped him, wheeling around to look in the direction of the sounds. Gunshots. Curtis felt the grip loosen and a sudden boost of adrenaline helped him break free. He ran in the direction of the sound, away from his captors.

Francis put all his force in a single punch, which landed straight at the already dead pirate. The small handgun which the pirate had suddenly presented fell to the ground, still cooling down from the last shot it made. As the bullet had hit him, he had been able to fire a small emergency gun. he had Leroy fell on his knees at the exact spot he was standing. Jenna rushed towards Leroy. Before she reached him, he fell backwards to the ground.

Curtis bashed through the door, and was suddenly confronted with one of the strangest views in his life. One man was standing upright, next to a woman who was kneeling at a person who was laying in a most unnatural position. She was desperately trying to reanimate the person, but the standing man put a hand on her shoulder. She shuddered. But there was something odd about the standing man. One of his arms was aimed straight at Curtis, and it took a moment for Curtis to understand he was being aimed at. Slowly, he raised his hands.

“Who are you?� – Francis voiced echoed through the room.
Curtis blinked. These were not pirates. “Curtis…� – he couldn’t remember his last name – what was it?
“Curtis who?� The military dedication in the question brought it all back in a flash. “Curtis Williams, of the ACC Catamaran escort squadron.�
Jenna wheeled in shock. She had found a survivor.


Chapter 24 – Escape – June 28 – 14:12UST

The pirates captain was starting to get nervous. The pirates carrier was still connected with the target through the airlocks. One of the boarding squads had not replied on his status call, which was most unusual. These men were highly trained fighters, disciplinary and physically. There was a simple protocol for this situation – if they don’t react, they are either dead or captured. Combined with ‘leave no evidence’, this left one simple option.

On the other side of the airlock, Jenna was staring at Curtis. She tried to stand up, still feeling disorientated due to Leroys death. She suddenly wanted to cry. Leroy would never know that she had found a witness of what happened with the lost F-144E squadron. Instead, he was on the ground, dead, at her feet. “What happened to your squadron?�

The captain nodded slowly. Two more minutes and they’d release the carrier according to plan. In his headset, which was at the same frequency of the boarding crew, he could hear the countdown. 112. 111. 110… They’d release, and those who hadn’t returned would die. They’d die swiftly, though.

“So, all they wanted were the Wraiths?�
Curtis nodded and was thrown off-balance by the door swinging open again. Francis was too surprised to react quickly, and two men stepped into the room. Francis raised his gun. The men didn’t seem to notice and shouted. “Curtis!�. Francis instinctively lowered his gun.

Curtis was lying on the floor, this last hit was too much for his bruised body. The men tried to help him up.
Francis again asked for identification. Both persons were pilots from the ACC Catamaran escort. As they lifted the unconscious body they explained three of them had died in the missile impact. They had then discovered that one of the bodies, Curtis, was still breathing. They had pulled him all the way to the hangars before he had struggled himself loose. He hadn’t heard them shouting his name.

15. 14. 13. Except for two men, the boarding crew had returned to their base. Protocol was simple. The captain ordered to disengage the airlocks. The ships disconnected slowly, and the carrier started to slide away from its target. The captain mumbled a small prayer for forgiveness and then gave the order he’d normally give without a doubt. But this time, two of his men were aboard the target. He sighed and grabbed his microphone.

Everything rocked slightly as the carriers disconnected. The two pilots had trouble keeping their balance, but managed to not drop Curtis. Francis turned pale. “They’re leaving!�. The two pilots quickly explained they had found a secondary hangar, which was still pressurized. They had found several ships standing there. They increased their pace as good as they could, Francis running out in front, trying to get to an operational ship to prepare for their leave.

The pirates carrier outside had nearly reached a distance of two-thousand units. The captain, still holding the microphone, took a long look at the abandoned cruiser. They had at most earned something – the crew had found huge amounts of food and medicines – not the hoped loot, but it was something. Only the costs were higher than expected. It had seemed so routine.

Francis jumped into the cockpit of the Quasar standing in the hangar, warming up the engines. The group escorting and supporting Curtis had just entered the hangar and had a 30 seconds stroll in front of them before they’d reach the platform that elevated them to the Quasars door. Francis lit up the systems and prepared several missiles to blast open the doors of the hangar. He’d have to wait until the others had entered the ship and the door had locked.

The carrier continued steadily at increasing the distance between it and the target, and the captain stared at the target for another few seconds. He took the microphone and fully aware of what he was saying, he spoke. “Remove the evidence.� A door slid open and a single ship emerged from the pirates carrier. It took a course at the target and fired a large missile, which took a slow and steady path at its destination.

The doors of the Quasar closed behind the group of survivors aboard the target. Francis didn’t waste time and fired two of the loaded Exodus missiles at the doors. The first missile did its job. The door seemed to bend, and then exploded outwards. Together with all the loose items in the room, the air of the room was sucked out into space. Francis hit the Fulcrum Jump Drive without taking off first. The metal of the Quasar scratched over the floor until they had left the carrier behind them. Then, behind them, there was only light. Jenna couldn't think. All she saw was Leroy's body laying in the carrier, which was exploding along with him now.

[Edited on 7-10-06 by tha_rami]

[verbosity]

ok have to say i'm a little lost - maybe i've read out out of order -loving it anyway ( and wishing i could write half as well).

Come on Rami finish it PLZ PLz Plz plz?

[tha_rami]

Summarized, there is 1 primary story line, and 4 secondary ones.

Main story: A group of insiders are bribed to set up a war between Alliance and Federation in the hope of sparking the economical restore of Terran space. For the set up, they capture several F-144E's and their pilots. After several assaults and a bombing at Federation HQ they succeed in pushing the tensions so far that negotiations at the peace dome start. The entire top of the Alliance and Federation are now negotiating peace.

Secondary Stories:

Jenna: An Alliance investigator who believes the F-144E's didn't disappear naturally. She, through other cases, tries to investigate the disappearance. Together with a small group of investigators, they wind up investigating an unidentified carrier. Aboard, they find survivors of the F-144E squadron.

Curtis Williams: One of the pilots of the squadron. All he knows is that he was captured and that his F-144E was stolen. He escapes during a pirates attack on the carrier where he's being contained.

Edward Sarrickson: One of the bribed bad guys. He officially died in an accident with his UFA-80, but behind the screens, he bombed Federation HQ and was a mayor factor in starting the war together with Jermany, an ex-Alliance member. His conciousness is toying with him - questioning whether his deed was righteous. His ultimate goal is creating a better world, and through war, he can see the economy rebuild.

Al Jennings: The mastermind. He bribed several persons into setting up a war. His story-line is mostly followed in Part 3, until now his role is mostly behind the screens.

A fifth secondary story will be in Part 3. I'll need to fix several errors I found during writing this summary, in the final version, several inconsistencies will be removed.

[tha_rami]

Chapter 25 – Ebb Away – June 28 – 10:48UST

The light started to ebb away. Francis was checking the damage on the Quasars hull after his hurried take-off. He had removed the magnet lock, but hadn’t awaited the craft to start and hover above it. The ship had taken several hits of debris as well, so the check wasn’t completely unnecessary. To his relief, nothing seemed dangerously damaged. They had escaped, without the pirates even noticing. The safety zone around the Fulcrum explosion had saved them – they had been too far away to show up on radar. He turned to the people behind him, the ship now continuing on a steady course towards the planet of Pisces.

“So, they captured you and took your ships?�
Curtis was dumbstruck with the news he had just gotten. Humanity was on the brink of war. “Yeah.�
“Any idea why they would want five F-144E’s?�
“Not the slightest clue, actually.�

Jenna was considering the options. Something fishy was going on. Five F-144E’s disappear, the squadron is displaced to a huge, unlisted carrier. Then, less then a week later, all of this had happened. She got one of the most irrational ideas she ever had. She hesitated for a moment and then put the absurd thought off her.

“What were you saying?�
Jenna looked up. “Oh… nothing.�. She thought of Leroy still. How he had dived towards the gun, while the pirate that was still standing had made a quick grasp into his jack, presenting another small gun. Francis turned towards the pirate, too late to prevent him from shooting.

Leroy had aimed and fired at the pirate, hitting him in the chest. The pirate stood for a second, his gun pointed at Leroy, seemingly already dead but waiting for gravity to overtake him. Then there had been another shot. She tried not to think of the horrible scene.

She realized Curtis had awoken again, and was looking at her questioningly. He hesitated for a second and decided to take the hard route. “The guy who was laying in the room, he was a friend, wasn’t he?�.
Jenna nodded slowly, tears welling up in her eyes again. She put her head on her hands.
There was a short silence. “He died a noble death. His name shall be remembered.�
Francis came from the cockpit. “Yeah. I think this is how he would’ve wanted to go.�
Jenna nodded again. It didn’t really matter how he’d gone, or what he thought of it. All that matter was that he was gone. Still, the words had some sort of soothing influence. Curtis had kneeled on the ground in front of her, looking up at her and trying to calm her a bit. Francis went back into the cockpit.

He stared at the stars around the increasingly large, reddish sphere that was Pisces. His eyes shot over the instruments once again and he concluded they were on a steady course. It was amazing coincidence that they had found a F-144E pilot, three of them to be exact. The other two were sleeping, exhausted from dragging Curtis around. His thoughts drifted to the case of the F-144E’s again. They had been captured, that was certain now. That left two questions: Why and who? He tried to remember strange news of the last week, trying to link events. He realized that all news of the previous week had been suspicious.

His thoughts were torn away from trying to find a link between the events. His radar started to show more and more ships in the vicinity. They were nearing Pisces station. Francis took another look at the radar. Several red blips had popped up. Francis now read the fuel indicator. The Quasar had been fully fueled, but the Quasar was not equipped with a Fulcrum Drive. He smiled. The Fulcrum Drive could instantly transport ships from one point in the universe to a nearby other location, unlike the Fulcrum Jumpdrive, which could only speed up a ship to unlikely speeds. Military ships, like the Quasar, were never equipped with the Fulcrum Drive – their energy supply was linked to weaponry and engine in such a way that there was not enough energy for a Fulcrum Jump.

The hostile ships had seemed to notice the abnormality of a military ship nearby Pisces. They continued on their course, probably deciding that the potential gain was far smaller than the risk of taking on Alliance hardware. Mercenary ships, after all, were much larger and slower than the usual military fighter.

The heatshield of the Quasar started to glow slightly as the Quasar started to rock slightly. Francis called into the cabin – “Fasten your seatbelts and hold on!�. He skimmed the outer layer of the atmosphere for a few moments, checking his radar for hostiles and navigating in such a way they’d approach the nearest hangar in a straight course. Then, the Quasar dove into the relatively thin atmosphere of the planet Pisces.


Chapter 26 – On the press of a thumb – June 28 – 12:40UST

Control your nerves. Breathe in, breathe out.

Al Jennings was sitting in a van. A small, unnoticeable van. It had been there for a few days now, on a forsaken parking space in the deserts of New Hope. The trip to the van had been one of detours. He would not be traced back to the van. He left from his office to New Hope, and then together with Jeremy he hired a car and came to this spot. Jeremy would return the car in the morning, apparently nothing but a tourist or businessperson. He himself would take the van and have it destroyed later. First, he had to wait.

The TV showed a constant live footage of the Peace Dome. Alliance and Federation officers had been discussing, not hearable for anyone but themselves. The dome was completely sound-isolated. In the history of the dome, there had been several lip-readers who had been able to read what was being said in the dome over the television. This resulted in a few simple rules for the media, no camera was allowed to focus on a person for longer than 3 seconds, and never on the talking person.

However, Al searched not for words. No, he didn’t even look at the persons. He paid close attention to the backdrop. Two carriers had been hanging there for a while now, closing in on the dome slowly. He knew that one of them was an Alliance Battle Cruiser, and the other a Federation Reconnaissance Carrier. Both of them armed correctly. They just had to be a little closer…

The back of the van was like a small office. It had a television, a chair, a desk and some electronic devices. Al took another nervous glance at two small items. One of them was a red button with a safety pen. It was labeled ‘Firework’. The other one was not as secure. A yellow button labeled ‘Flare’. Al knew what both of them meant. The first one was the one he was nervous about, his ultimate objective, after the first object had blinded both humans and jammed electronics. A new type of combined Chaff-Stun weaponry. Al had invested in it years ago, and now it would pay off. A single, minor press on the button would be enough to set a canister hidden in space near the dome to do its work.

The second one, however, would have results that would be more implicit. Al took another deep breath. The carriers had almost reached the distance at which they would be able to fire at the dome. They were not allowed to enter the safety zone set up around the dome, however, if timed correctly, the ‘Flare’ would disable their brakes for a split moment. It was a plan requiring exact timing.

A small radar screen started to bleep. It was almost time. 2520 units distance left. The armament of both carriers was designed to be effective at twenty-five-hundred units or less. At 2510, the carriers engines would reverse thrust to break at 2501 units distance, according to protocol and safety measures. At 2502, it had to happen. The little bit of forward motion left would do the trick.

2510. He would rebuild a glorious economy. Single-handedly, accompanied only by a few pawns. He would not be remembered as such, though. No, he would be remembered as the founder of the most influential weapon company in the galaxy. As a revolutionary merchant. The one who provided the weapons to whatever party would win the pending war.

No one would ever know what sacrifices he was about to make. Good customers of him, old friends. But it was for the sake of the Terran race. Of humanity. Heroes can be murderers. They would be sacrifices for many others, who otherwise would live in poverty. War was a necessary evil to spin up the economy once more.

2505. Just three more units. Three more beeps. Al took a look at the television. He knew it would be the last time he would see of those men. Honorable men. A shame that they had to fall victim to this. Their deaths would be glorious. Beep. 2504. Al focused on the two small panels in front of him now. ‘Flare’ and ‘Firework’. The van had been camouflaged as a truck of some sort of mobile pyrotechnical show. The reason for the ‘covering’ terms. They didn’t say anything else than they would do, though. Beep. Outside, the buzz of an engine became louder. A car on the freeway passed by. Al swallowed hardly. Fireworks. Flare. They would do as they said. They meant the rebuilding of the economy, of wealth, at the press of a thumb. Beep. 2502. Al closed his eyes and pressed Flare. The TV suddenly emitted nothing but a blinding white flash. Then, exactly a second later, he pressed Firework.

Inside the Peace Dome, in a rock located in the aquarium at the bottom of the dome, a little light lit up.

[tha_rami]

To understand how everything went in the last part of Diplomacy, I'd recommend you re-read the intro of Diplomacy

and

(excerpt from Chapter 22)

The light on the camera turned off and he sighed. It was an amazing sight, this peace dome. He looked through the glass, watching the two security carriers guarding each other. The ABC Infernus and FRC Predator-II were the two chosen capital ships to secure the area. They were equipped with high powered lasers and weapons. Their shapes seemed to be equally large and growing. They were most probably heading for the border of the safety zone, getting as near as possible without breaching protocol.

I've read it several times, and I've let some others read it too. If you read it as it should be read (without too long breaks), you'll understand it all. But with the time it takes me to write it, you'll forget the little but so important details.

[tha_rami]

Al Jennings has just pressed a small button inside a little van on New Hope. How implicit the results are will be revealed in Part 3 - which starts with the shocking direct result of Jennings press of a thumb. From there on, we'll follow the rolling ball down the slope, until the one man who can stop it will decide to stop it or let it roll. But this will not be an easy choice - it is his life which shall be changed for the worst forever by choosing for good. Read on to see how Alliance and Federation roll down that slope... towards war.

PART 3 - FAITH

Intro - June, 28 - 12:41UST
Fragments of glass floated through space. Shattered shards without destination, moving towards their doom somewhere out there in space. Whether they'd be molten by stars, caught by gravity or destroyed in any cosmic event was unclear.

"New Hope station, the center of the peace negotiations..."

In a hospital room, Jenna started zapping desperately through the channels. Behind her lay three men, sleeping. They had been through a lot. She had pretended to be Curtis sister yesterday when the hospital personnel had asked her to leave unless she was family, to be able to stay near them for a while. Curtis had played along nicely. She had many questions for them if they woke up. Again, the television changed to black for a split second before showing a new feed. Every channel, however, showed the same footage.

"...dome destroyed in a freakish..."
"...and Federation officials killed along..."
"...statement that two carriers..."
“... eerie flash before the explosion…�
"...explosion at 12:41UST today..."

She paused and zapped back to one of the channels. A woman appeared in front of a backdrop of New Hope station. She seemed shocked by the events. No surprise, probably the entire galaxy was watching in awe now. Jenna heard some noise behind her, and looked at the source of the sound. Curtis was still where she left him. He had just rolled to his other side. The other two still slept as well. She lowered the volume a bit and enabled the subtitling.

White letters appeared below the woman.
“The exact cause of the explosion in the Peace Dome is as yet unknown. However, two carriers were located inside the restricted zone at the moment of the explosion, the ABC Infernus and FRC Predator-II. Their crews are being interrogated as we speak.�

Another voice, probably the anchorman, started to speak mutedly. The subtitles turned yellow.
“And that flash? Is there an update about the flash?�
The subtitles turned back white.
“No, there hasn’t. Several experts have declared that most likely, the flash was caused by some sort of non-lethal weapon, disabling electronics and blinding with that flash. As you might recall, all camera’s failed to capture several seconds after the flash, including the duration of the explosion. The first footage we have is being rid of shocking contents as we speak.�
“Non-lethal weapon? Are they implying that these were two explosions, instead of a single one?�
“No, they agree with the mayority of the experts that the flash was probably just a side effect of the explosion. The camera’s didn’t register anything at all, so it’s hard to say.�
“Okay. Today at 12:41UST, an explosion rocked New Hope station and destroyed the Peace Dome, killing ninety-two people, including all negotiating officers. The Alliance and Federation…�

The screen went black as she put down the remote. The footage was clear about the rampage: the entire dome had been blown apart in one single burst of fire. Over ninety people were killed by the sudden explosion. Several reporters and crews had been killed by the shards before being sucked into space, and others had been too nearby to escape the sucking force of the immediate decompression. The emergency doors had saved the rest of the station from total annihilation, but the damage had been done. Curtis suddenly woke up. He sat upright, and looked at Jenna in wonder.

She looked at him for a moment, and their eyes locked for a split second. He saw fear in her eyes before she turned away. She took the remote control again, and turned the TV on. He understood what happened at the first glance of the footage. The large headline at the bottom left no room for guessing. Negotiations were over. It was war.

[Edited on 15-10-06 by tha_rami]

[tha_rami]

I need some feedback! How to take the story from here:

Option A: War actually starts and many die, but war stops later.
Option B: It comes to a frontline-to-frontline situation, but not to mayor conflict.
Option C: No frontline-to-frontline, no War. Just a race against the clock while the fleets approach eachother.
Option D: It comes to a mayor conflict, but the casualties are still low at the end.
Option E: It comes to a frontline-2-frontline conflict, but the mayor part of the fleet do not join the battle.

[Jeremy]

Option C.

Additional feedback:

Loving the story!

Jeremy

[tha_rami]

Glad you like it, I like writing it too . Gheh, quite a twist with the assault on Peace Dome, though. Hope it did come as a surprise. Also hope you enjoy the rest of the story as well .

[Edited on 15-10-06 by tha_rami]

[tha_rami]

Security - June, 28 - 13:23UST

The first minor conflicts had already been reported. Minor skirmishes between pilots remembering their oath to either of both factions. Mutiny and dogfights. No mayor combat had been fought yet, and still, the first casualty reports started to appear on BBS-screens all over the galaxy.

Several aircraft roared high above the desert sand. Their velocity seemed to decrease every given moment, their destination now visible just above the horizon. A huge complex, the most secure area on Earth. As they flew over the first line of high-powered anti-air defenses, the two escorting atmospheric Strikers diverted and flew away in separate directions. The three center craft didn’t leave their course towards their destination.

They now passed over the second row of air defenses, the first ground security outposts and radar installations, their speed still dropping towards the point where gravity would completely overcome them. In the cockpit, the pilot made a last correction on the ships computer, and stared at the buildings in now clearly in front of him. Alliance HQ.

As they neared the docking pads of the complex, the engines of the Transporters suddenly reversed thrust, and engines on the bottom of the crafts lit up with a roar. Increasingly powerful blazes of sand started to scatter in all directions below the crafts, as they started a vertical descent into the magnet locks of the docking pad.

With the sand gusts still cutting into their faces, several guards ran up to the door of the craft before the pilot undid the locks. Even inside the complex, every movement was guarded, secured and monitored. The complex was the center of all Alliance power, the main base. They had outposts on most other planets, and a secondary main base at Sapphire in the EvoChron sector, but none as mighty and large as the Earth base.

With most of the executives and representatives killed in the assault on the Peace base, the few that had not been able to be present at the negotiations now gathered at Alliance HQ under the highest standards of security available. From here, the fleet would be coordinated to defend Alliance territory from the Federation attacks that would follow. The investigations on both carriers that had breached the security protocol revealed nothing but some short-circuited datadiscs. Both crews had declared that the Chaff weapon had caused this damage.

Admiral and executive in charge Leon DeMille from the Orion sector exited the Transporter and was escorted towards the Conference Center, or the C.C. as they referred to it. It was a surprisingly small building from the outside, just big enough to be a hallway for the buildings surrounding it. Admiral DeMille knew why – the building was one of the facilities buried deep below the deserts sand. The only thing the building on ground level contained were several elevators leading down to the actual center.

The elevator took something that most resembled a freefall before it reached the bottom of the shaft. In less than half a minute, DeMille found himself in front of yet another security guard, handing over his ID and scanning his iris. The computer confirmed that he was indeed Admiral Leon DeMille, 42 years old, born in the Orion sector. After a few seconds, the same computer decoded the encrypted data on the ID card and confirmed that the iris and the information on the ID-card were the same. The transparent doors swung open, just to reveal something completely different from the scene visible through the glass doors.

The Conference Center contained several underground passages to other locations underground. One of these locations was accessible only through the C.C., although emergency exits allowed personnel to flee through all underground buildings. Mono-directional security, always locking doors with almost unpractical thickness and strength. The only door with bi-directional security leading to Battle Control was located in a armored, underground passage between the C.C. and Battle Control.

Admiral DeMille entered through the doors of Battle Control three minutes later. His eyes screened the room for people he knew. He recognized many of the faces from briefings, several he had met in real life. Most faces depicted fear, although several also showed certitude and anger. This was where the war would be orchestrated. He cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen... “

[Edited on 29-10-06 by tha_rami]

[tha_rami]

Pendulum - June, 28 - 13:30UST

Admiral in charge Leon DeMille was startled. He had the highest in rank in the room, and yet, someone had dared to interrupt him. He had prepared a speech, a speech he had just started, not even really commenced yet, as someone had told him to first look at something.

DeMille wheeled, and found behind him a young man, a Lieutenant. DeMille quickly scanned the nameplate attached to the uniform and intensified his voice. “Yes, Lieutenant Zimmer?�
Lieutenant Zimmer was clearly intimidated by this harsh response, and quickly mumbled some apologies. “I just thought you should be aware of the fact that the Federation fleet has already set course towards the Sol sector.�
Now it was DeMille’s turn to be feel intimidated. “They… what?�
“They’ve already set course. Their fleet is scattered yet, but seems to head for a gathering point en-route to here.�
“ETA?�. The abbreviation for ‘Estimated Time of Arrival’. It had been used for centuries by the military and air traffic.
“I think we’ve got a day or two. At most. We have no status report of their ships, but we suspect that weaponry and supplies still need to be loaded.�
“Is that an official estimate?�
“No, sir, that was what I thought. Official estimates give us 80 hours.�
“Okay. Thank you, Lieutenant.�

The admiral now turned to the other people in the room and continued without changing tone. It still had a sharp undertone, which made his voice sound appropriately authorative.
“From now on, I want no more personal opinions. I want fact, and if estimates, official ones. If you do not have official estimates, request them. I want the fleet gathered in three subs, one near Earth and ready for combat before tomorrow, one in the vicinity of New Hope orbital and battle-ready in 36 hours, and an frontline set up near the Orion border. –“
Someone in the room stood up and tried to say something. “-sir.�
DeMille had had enough interruptions for one day. He continued without paying attention to the interruption. “- I want every Alliance pilot capable of flying the Wraith to fly the Wraith.� The Admiral now fixed his stare on one of the people he already knew. “And Johansson, I want a word with you.�

The Admiral paused for a short moment. “If anyone has suggestions concerning battle-plan or ideas, I’m open. Just try not to waste my time.� His eyes now searched for the man who had just interrupted him and he continued. “And try not to waste my energy by interrupting me.�

From silence the room suddenly filled with voices. Radiographers started to send messages to carriers and cruisers, tacticians started putting together squadrons and equipment, assigning pilots and carriers. Computers beeped, while a large screen projected the most probable location of Federation capital ships at that moment. Several of the arrows on the screen did not blink, and DeMille knew that only those locations were certain. He ordered Johansson to come over to him.

“Admiral.�
“Frank, call me Leon, please.�
Johansson seemed happy about this familiar tone. They had been friends for a long time. Ever since they were put together in the 48th Star Wraith squadron, they had been friends. “Okay, Leon, what is it that you need me for?�
DeMille suddenly lowered his voice to a whisper. “I want you to select a few squadrons to fly a new craft prototype.�
Johannson nodded. “How many pilots?�
“I’ve got 25 prototypes.�
“I’ll get you 25.�
“Qualified Wraith fighters?�
Johansson nodded again. He immediately turned and placed a call. Admiral DeMille knew he had chosen the right person, Johansson had contacts in nearly every squadron in the Alliance fleet. He would know who to choose for this new fighter.

DeMille only heard the first few words of Johansson’s call. “I want a record of all F144E pilots available.�


New Hope - June, 28 - 13:41UST

Aboard the Federation Battle Cruiser Sparrow a radiographer just finished the status update to HQ. He had updated their location, fuel and ETA. Immediately after the news of the Peace Dome explosion, they had received order to head use a classified weapon. Only he, the pilot of the Sparrow and the highest official aboard knew the details. He felt somewhat proud about that.

The Sparrow was an Infinity-class cruiser, one of the most powerful successors of the Vengeance, the Federations most powerful weapon in the war of the eighties past century. It had superior agility and maneuverability, and yet shielding and weaponry were no less than the average cruiser. The radiographer sighed. They were headed for war. To the battlefield. He didn’t care about victory, or about the Federation. He had applied to the job for the salary, and because he wanted to see space. But he had sworn an oath, and he would keep it. Until death, if necessary.

The confirmation from HQ suddenly tore him away from his thoughts, and he focused on his job again. They would reach their destination within hours, and their ultimate goal, Earth, within 40 hours. They would outsmart the Alliance. And he was one of the few who knew how.

He took a look at the television in the small, metallic room. It was a room without soul, a room simply built to plan murder. There was no ‘karma’, as his wife would call it, or even the slightest hint of optimism in the room. Nothing to distract from the job at hand. Within 48 hours, he’d be fighting or he’d be dead. The battlefield would be huge, over 90% of the Federation fleet heading straight towards Alliance HQ at Earth, using attack as their best defense. The Federation had always been less centralistic than the Alliance, allowing them to lose planets. The Alliance would have to make a stand at Earth, while the rest of the Federation fleet would play a diversion and then return protect Orion.

He was amazed by the speed of the events happening. A week ago, there had been nothing. No war, not even a hint of it. And suddenly, before he really realized it, he found himself sitting in this familiar room, but now heading towards slaughter. He had no family, no wife and children to take care of. He had always preferred the life as bachelor. Nevertheless, he could imagine the feeling of those leaving wife and children behind, possible for them to become widow and orphan.

The voice emitted by his headphone sounded metallic, an effect that was produced by the coding and decoding of the audio-signals sent through space. “FBC Sparrow – you’re on course. Retain current heading and increase velocity to one-niner-zero. ETA to next F.J. two hours and seven minutes.�

The radiographer passed on the message to the bridge. ETA to the next ‘ef-jay’. The next safe area to Fulcrum Jump, without popping up on Alliance radars. Their radar-stealth hull protected them at speeds below 200 units per hour. Not that stealth would help them in battle. They just needed to come with higher numbers than the Alliance expected. And they were sending nothing short of the entire Federation fleet. They would reach their gathering point in 20 hours, and bash through Alliance defenses until reaching Earth. The Sparrow, as any other carrier, was armed with space-to-ground bombs, and those bombs had but one goal: Alliance HQ, on Earth. However, something else made the Sparrow one of the most powerful carriers in the fleet. The key to victory.

Inside Alliance HQ, the officials were falling for the Federation plot with open eyes. The 10% of the fleet apparently heading for Sapphire was overestimated direly, as several Federation carriers had been heading in that direction until reaching the Orion nebula and diverting on a straight path towards Earth. The other ninety percent, a total of hundred-and-twenty-four Federation capital ships, were heading straight for Earth. The Alliance estimated them to be eighty and set up a proper barricade for the incoming Federation carriers near New Hope orbital. Sixty Alliance capital ships took a straight leave towards Sapphire.

Jenna was desperate. New Hope, as were most other systems in Sol and Orion, was under lockdown, not allowing anyone into space any longer. The most important reporters of the galaxy were stuck inside New Hope orbital, reporting about the pending battles with all available information against the backdrop of the ruins of the Peace Dome. Yet, the war and the pending danger were not the reasons of her desperation. She was sitting alone in the New Hope hospital. Curtis and the pilots had left. They had gone to war.