Uh... yeah. Here is the mostly unedited, most hyphens removed, submission edition of the NaNo. [b]Manhunt[/b] [i]Prologue[/i] Joran Nebulid cast an uneasy glance about him as he stepped onto the bridge of the ex-Torsonnen light carrier [i]Valour[/i] for the first time. It seemed to be standard fare in terms of command bridge functionality - Ops, Tactical, Communications, and the ever reclusive helmsman each having their separate little niches, with command staff stationed in the middle of it all. Visually it was as appealing as a blank, grey wall can get. Nebulid’s initial impression of the ship was positive - it could certainly get to places fast. All that remained to be determined was whether or not it could be relied on to fight well once it got to those places. [i]God willing,[/i] he thought, [i]we will not need to test it much.[/i] In all the galaxy he had never come across so varied a crew in terms of species - the captain was a Phoenix, one of the scarcest of all species remaining in the wake of Torsonnen’s bid for extermination. Several species, especially the already severely weakened Conari, had simply perished, completely demolished by the warlord turned emperor’s pro human jihad. Nebulid himself was human and the first mate. The second mate was a Krion, two generations descended from the leader of the original Krion embassy on Earth seven hundred years ago. [i]Long generations,[/i] remarked Nebulid to himself as he continued to be amazed at the varied composition of the crew. If there was one thing to be said for rebellion, it was that it brought everyone together. Phoenix working with human and Krion and Liroid and N’Dlara; no “species barrier”, no difficulties, just taking care of business as usual on [i]Valour[/i]. It was a call back to earlier times, the times of the Federation, the times of economic prosperity and mutual hope. So sickening that a mere thirty five years had sufficed to destroy twenty five thousand years of Federation history. [i]That bastard![/i] Advira Torsonnen had gained massive military supremacy through some unknown means. There was no escaping his wrath or shaking off the iron fist of his rule. Either you were already free or you were [i]his[/i]. The exception to that rule now stood on the bridge of [i]Valour[/i], revelling in the serene beauty of it all, awestruck by the sheer hope implicit in the crew’s composition. It took him some time to recognize that someone was calling for him. As it turned out, it happened to be the captain. His translation unit bleated out the words: “How do you find the ship? Pleasing, I hope.” “Absolutely,” he replied. “I have never seen such a crew in all my life.” “True! They are one of a kind, the best crew I have ever had. I assure you, they will be a pleasure to work with. I trust you have acquainted yourself well enough with the bridge! Come, meet me at the launch bays. I will show you the [i]other[/i] aspect of our crew’s greatness.” It was phrased as a suggestion, but the intonation (not in the translation, but the original words) had been commanding. [i]He seems to be a natural leader. Let’s hope the situation is as it seems…[/i] From the bridge to the hangar was an appreciable walk - “light” though it was, [i]Valour[/i] was still a big (ish) ship, about one hundred fifty metres long and fifty metres wide at the centre of its ovoid hull - and Nebulid wondered what Captain Msul’b could possibly want with him here. But the captain was the captain, regardless of any personal doubts on the matter. When ordered, unless there was a good reason (and a damned good one at that to even merit consideration!) for disobedience, compliance was expected. At any rate, his answer came as he stepped through the pressure door. It was one of those true jaw dropping moments you come across only once in a long while. “You got a hold of some working Sentinel suits. My God!” “Exclamations are totally unnecessary. Yes, we managed to obtain some of the old Torsonnen stock battlesuits. Most of them are Model ANs, but we [i]do[/i] have a couple of suits as recent as AT. Coupled with a number of very talented mobile trooper candidates, those suits are what distinguish us from other groups.” “This is excellent! I cannot possibly be happier that I managed to find my way to this job.” “Glad to have you on board. I doubt you will enjoy the job ever again so much as you do at this moment.” The grim statement returned Nebulid to reality. [i]This is the most outmatched of all resistance movements ever conceived. We face an enemy that can literally destroy worlds with his immoral weaponry.[/i] Looking out through the force field airlock to his native Alumehr, Nebulid was struck with sadness - the odds against his ever returning home were tremendous, and though he knew he had made the right choice in signing on with [i]Valour[/i], Nebulid could not help but wish there was another way. “I suddenly share that doubt, sir.” “No ‘sir’. Call me Captain, or Msul’b, or both. Never ‘sir’.” There was a distinct tone of anger, almost a vehemence, in that voice. “Understood, Captain.” His strict Imperial Navy training still demanded formality on duty. He wondered why Captain Msul’b so violently opposed the word ‘sir’, but dared not ask. “Now, I would like you to give the order to depart. I know you’ve a bit of command experience on you, but your new crew does not yet know you. Perhaps now is the time to acquaint yourself with them. But first, acquaint yourself with your quarters.” Msul’b led Nebulid to his “spacious” officer’s quarters, which really amounted to little more than a human bed, nightstand (plastic) and small hygiene station. The Phoenix’ instinctive disdain for such human oriented facilities was readily apparent, but Nebulid paid it no heed, chalking it up to nature. Instead he said “When am I expected on bridge?” “Take” - a slight pause while Msul’b carried out the conversions from his native time units to Galactic Standard - “twenty minutes,” the translation unit finished for him, automatically converting Galactic Standard to Terran terms for Nebulid. Why the device’s inventors had not simply programmed every Federation time unit into the translators escaped Nebulid, especially given the little effort it had taken to so reprogram the machine with Terran-Galactic conversion factors. “Sounds fair. I look forward to serving with you, Captain.” “I look forward to serving with you just as much, Commander. We shall make it a resistance worth remembering!” [i]So we shall… so we shall.[/i] Nebulid did not wish to contemplate the alternative. He was not quite so awestruck by the crew’s varied composition on his second visit to the bridge, and this time he was able to pick out one of the subtler traits of the bridge crew: though efficient and excellent at their jobs, they seemed to never make the mistake of taking their work too seriously. Nebulid could not say the same for himself… he flexed the biomechanical fingers of his artificial left arm, remembering the unfortunate incident that had led to its loss, along with the rest of his body. But he put it out of his mind. Captain Msul’b was already seated, and something which looked nothing at all like the natural form of a Krion but could only be the second mate itself stood ready. Somewhat flustered still, Nebulid glanced over at Msul’b. “Where are we headed to?” He could not very well give the order to depart without a destination. “We’re due to hit a Torsonnen battle group en router to Praxas in” - again the pause - “two days. Give the order any time you like, Commander.” Noting the urgency of Msul’b’s request, Nebulid cleared his throat quietly. “Set course oh four two one four six nine four three. Take us out at four G.” Not that at any point any crewman would feel four gravities - excellent inertial compensators installed at all points of the ship took care of that particular problem. Nebulid reflected on his order - had he remembered to code acceleration units too? Evidently he had, for the ship acted exactly to expectations, and in fact far beyond them. [i]Valour[/i] leaving Alumehr orbit was its own little graceful ballet. As the carrier slid effortlessly out of the planet’s gravity well, Nebulid was again reminded of his days on the bridge of [i]Relentless[/i]. Again he put the thought out of his mind - his time of Torsonnen service had passed. He knew that it would never return, and he was glad to have given it up for the good fight. [i]Anything to bring back the Federation.[/i] It took almost an hour, even at four G, to get [i]Valour[/i] sufficiently clear of gravitational perturbations to allow the jump to warp. The lonely astrogator near the end of the line at the Ops station called out “We will have optimal solution for jump to warp in twenty seconds or less.” No language difficulties here - the astrogator was descended from the race that had originated Galactic Standard, which translated easily enough into Terran. Those seconds passed relatively quickly, and then the astrogator said “We have optimal warp solution. It is all yours, Commander. We are ready to go.” “Take us in.” The three words seemed most appropriate for the occasion. [i]We’re dragging ourselves into a war that doesn’t even exist yet.[/i] Certainly they were far more appropriate than the hopelessly clichéd “Engage” frequently used as a sort of in-joke by Torsonnen navy men. He allowed himself a chuckle at that. “Is there something humourous about what you just said, Commander? Please enlighten me.” “No, I’m just remembering a life I no longer live. The person I used to be is dead.” “The sooner you move on from your dead past, the better your present’s chances of survival are.” Again Nebulid flexed his artificial left hand, readily concurring. A sudden lurch, and then they were completely out of the system. “First jump complete. Second jump in five seconds.” Five seconds passed, then another lurch and they were at Praxas, or at least at the outer rim of its solar system. “Second jump complete. Third jump in twenty seconds.” [i]Final jump[/i], Nebulid thought, [i]to bring us just outside Praxas’ gravity well.[/i] From there they would proceed under normal power to wherever they were headed, to do whatever they planned to do. The third and final jump was the most important and delicate. If the calculations were even minutely off, the ship could be ripped apart by the vastly increased gravitational differentials - Roche’s limit on a man made scale. The third lurch was stronger than the others. “Third jump completed. We are currently two million kilometres outward of Praxas. Real time elapsed while we were in warp is 22.49 hours. We’re here, Captain.” “Excellent. How long until the battle group arrives?” “10.24 hours, Captain,” said the helmsman. “Shall I move us into position?” “No, we will stay here for awhile first. Nebulid, the bridge is yours; I will be back in… two hours.” Msul’b walked out, presumably heading to his quarters to rest a bit. [i]Great, now what am I supposed to do?[/i] Nebulid resigned himself to a long, [i]long[/i] two hourse of more or less nothing. [i]And people[/i] enjoy[i] this?[/i] Then the joke swapping started, and he immediately knew why they did. “…Your Imperial Majesty? You are an unexpected addition to the ship.” “I’m well aware of that. Praxas has been falling behind their Sentinel suit production quota of late. My men need those suits to continue to fight for me. Perhaps a personal visit will somewhat encourage them to put more effort into their production.” “As you wish, Your Imperial Majesty.” And just like that, Emperor Advira Torsonnen of the “Terran Empire” (more aptly named the Torsonnen Empire, and [i]most[/i] aptly named “those bastards”) was on board one of his navy’s strike carriers. He found the accommodations sufficiently bare for his taste. Out the view port he saw the rest of the battle group, loosely arrayed in a wide entrapment formation. [i]Excellent.[/i] There was another reason Emperor Torsonnen was on board: he wished to see the fish squirm in the net. Fresh catch was always such a pleasure to behold, and to torture… Captain Msul’b’s return to the bridge was unceremonious. “Commander, did anything of note occur during my absence?” The Phoenix already knew well what the answer would be, but there was always the possibility of an aberration. “Nope. I must say I had forgotten what a tedious job being a skipper is. The last two hours have been a test of my mental endurance - and more specifically, my ability to resist boredom.” “It gladdens me to see you enjoying your work so.” He chuckled. “Take two hours for yourself. I will have Makhidaralore take the second seat in your place.” “Thank you.” Nebulid vacated the bridge hastily. On his way out the door, though, a thought struck him. “What if they know we’re here?” “They do. I had our best intel expert arrange the leak. They think they got the information from their own intelligence service, but we know better.” “What if they know we know they know we are here?” Nebulid had to ask. “It changes nothing. The mission has nothing to do with stealth and everything to do with planning. More specifically, it has everything to do with plotting. This is an assassination.” “Assassination, is it? Who is the lucky customer?” [i]Who could we possibly be going after, unequipped as we are?[/i] “Yes, assassination. We’re going after the ‘Holy Guardian’, Torsonnen’s chiefest of all chief fleet admirals. He’s due here in… 8.2 hours to check on the battlesuit production factories here on Praxas. I apologize for not telling you beforehand what exactly you were getting into; please understand that security issues prohibited it. Even command staff can go bad sometimes.” [i]Tell me about it,[/i] said Nebulid inwardly, recalling the story of how his old Federation cruiser’s captain had come across Torsonnen troops, then defected immediately, forcing all crew to comply or simply shooting them himself. Nebulid had wanted to punch the “man” in the face over that. Coincidentally, he was to get the chance to repay the favour, as that same former captain was now their very target in this assassination ploy. [i]Pay back time, you son of a bitch![/i] The suggested punishment of a punch in the face had now escalated into full blown blood vengeance. All this he thought within the span of his “Affirmative and understood” reply. The door closed behind him, and the Krion second mate settled into Nebulid’s chair. It was only a matter of time now - time for their Sentinels to get ready, time for the battle group to arrive. [i]The waiting game has never been my strong point,[/i] Msul’b admitted. The trap was set. The fleet was ready. They would all depart at the same time for Praxas in two minutes. Advira Torsonnen looked over the deployments one more time and smiled. The Holy Guardian certainly knew his tactics. [i]This is perfect. We will drop out of warp all over the system. There is no way those rebel fools can elude such a net![/i] The thought that the rebels could know that he knew they were there crossed Torsonnen’s mind briefly, but he immediately did away with it on the grounds that his intelligence service had considerable talent in their field. Their methods were discreet enough to positively impact their efficiency, to say the very least. That lent credence to their reports. It was enough for Torsonnen, who had more on his mind than just the occasional sloppy Intel agent making his presence known by accident. Matters of state were nothing to laugh at. [i]And if they do know, what difference does it make at all? They know very well how vital this supply mission is to us. They will still do everything in their power to block it, not that it will do a thing. And I will show them the meaning of futility! They will scatter before the wake of my driving force, and I will crush them![/i] A lurch, then five seconds, then another lurch, then twenty seconds, then another lurch, and they were there. The most important battle of Torsonnen’s campaign to date had begun, though he knew it not yet… When only two Torsonnen ships showed up at the rendezvous point, all bridge staff immediately knew something was amiss. To be fair, they had already known to expect something like this, but knowledge and reality are not always necessarily the same thing. “Have our mobile troopers launch. We have at most ten minutes before they locate us. And let’s see if we can pinpoint the Holy Guardian’s ship, too. Tactical, charge up the plasma guns and begin working out firing solutions on those ships. Move out!” Msul’b had settled firmly into command mode now. He was totally intent, totally focused, totally in his element. A better tactician than him might never have existed in all time. Certainly not in the present. “Bring us about to face the first Torsonnen ship, that one over there.” He pointed. “You mean [i]Relentless[/i]? Even your souped up plasma gun is barely going to put a scratch in that behemoth’s hull.” Nebulid spoke from experience. “I suggest finding one of the smaller strike carriers and taking [i]that[/i] out, just to eliminate one or two of the plasma guns shooting us. - Crap. Here come the fighters. I hope you have a lot of heavies on you.” “We have a fair number. Do not worry. Also we have a small fighter squadron of our own; Ops, please have them launch now.” ‘Heavies’ referred to mobile troopers equipped with portable missile launchers rather than the standard beam sabre. Coupled with the standard issue ion guns given to all mobile troopers, the missiles made quick work of fighters, so heavies were typically employed in an anti-fighter facility, although occasionally they would be deployed against capital ships. Tactical called out “Solution for [i]Relentless[/i] has arrived. Shall I fire?” Nebulid frowned. He hoped Msul’b would make the right call on this shot. Msul’b said “Fire.” Nebulid cried out in exasperation. “[b]It won’t do a thing! Find a smaller ship with less shielding and destroy that instead! For example, over there[/b]” - he pointed out a small strike carrier five thousand kilometres to port - “[b]there’s a perfect candidate.[/b]” He trailed off. Something had struck him, something familiar about the ship he had just pointed out. It was almost as though… “…and the Emperor is on it.” “[b]WHAT?![/b]” Shocked, Msul’b continued “How do you know this?” “I had to kind of piece it together for myself. I got hints from actions the Emperor was taking around the time I made my run for it - strengthening that particular ship, grooming it for his personal favour. Also, he incessantly prated on about the grand plan, how he intended to trap each and every resistance group across the galaxy and personally oversee their demise. The connection was not difficult to make once I recognized that ship as [i]Diligent[/i]. Your next move, Captain?” There was a hint of smug satisfaction in his voice - he had been right in pointing out smaller targets after all. “Obviously we have no choice but to blow [i]Diligent[/i] away. Tactical, belay the fire order against [i]Relentless[/i]. I need a solution on [i]Diligent.[/i] Helm, have us assume standard evasive pattern; needless to say, Tactical, base your solution on that.” “Absolutely.” Now, for the time being, there was nothing to do but just watch… Six shiny new Torsonnen fighters came cruising in, all guns blazing, their fire matched by six less shiny resistance fighters. Only six fighters emerged from that little fracas - and none of them had been shiny to start the fray, so the debris did not matter much in terms of scratches and dents to the already less than optimal hulls. Omega Lead grinned. “A perfect sortie. If only the whole galaxy were so inept with their fighters.” Omega Three concurred. “But then we would have no work left to do. They would all be dead.” Two corrected him, “Nay! Know you not that for every hopelessly shitty pilot we slay, three more equally shitty pilots pop up to take his place?” “Bah! A minor detail. The galaxy can’t have [i]that[/i] many ships to kill. They would run out of raw materials for the fighters.” He knew he was wrong. They knew too. “Your ability to pussyfoot around any concession of any or no importance is first rate. Just give it up, for once. Your ego will be sated enough by the end of the battle anyways.” “Understood.” Three pulled sharply away from the flight group in pursuit of a tight grouping of Torsonnen fighters. Two peeled off as well to cover him. Together they made swift work of the flight group. “Thief,” he accused Two facetiously, then they fell back into formation. As they systematically cleared the fighters closing in from [i]Relentless[/i] out, the mobile troopers were having their own brand of fun. As the Torsonnen drop ships had yet to arrive within drop distance of [i]Valour[/i], then Sentinel had a lot of time on their hands, having quick draw competitions with their ion guns and races with their jet assemblies. Eventually, though, the Torsonnen troopers reached drop range, and legions of battlesuits poured out. There was something wrong about these suits, though… Major Lanai looked closely at them. That was the problem! She could see them! “Are those new models or decoys?” she asked. “Emission profile matches the data we have on the new suits. Try shooting ‘em,” said Tactical on [i]Valour[/i]. [i]Good idea.[/i] Raising here ion gun, she fired off a quick burst. Immediately the area she’d targeted burst into action - and light. Each and every one of the Torsonnen suits lit up with a delicate framework of illuminators. Their jet assemblies poured out emissions practically on a capital ship scale. [i]Like a fireworks show.[/i] Putting it out of her mind, she drew her beam sabre and manipulated her jets to send her crashing into the Torsonnen formation. For all their fancy equipment, few of them, if any, had any actual combat experience. To a war seasoned fighter like herself they were nothing. A beam scythe came crashing down at her, but she caught the blade on one of her forearm mounted combat knives and plunged her sabre into the exposed battlesuit body. Quickly disengaging to move on to her next target, she was surprised to see an explosion that would have been accompanied by a thunderous BANG if it had occurred in an atmosphere. It looked to have been a strike cruiser. [i]Taroth[/i] class maybe, although… “Was that [i]Diligent[/i] that just blew up over there?” she called out to [i]Valour[/i] in between engagements. Then she was occupied by a duel with somewhat of a more skilled Torsonnen trooper, so she didn’t hear the answer, or when she did, she wasn’t able to listen. “Yes!!!” The answer was yes. [i]Diligent[/i] had been destroyed, taking with it its payload of Advira Torsonnen. The exultation was enormous. Nebulid was lauded as a hero, as well as the otherwise anonymous Tactical expert, who had managed to hit the shot from an unprecedented five thousand kilometres away. Captain Msul’b said “Alright. Let’s pull out. Our work here is done. Gather up our fighters and mobile troopers, and let’s see if we can’t find a relatively intact Torsonnen suit to pick apart. Get at it!” The Torsonnen forces were reeling at the loss of their commander. [i]Valour[/i] even managed to get a couple more shots in, sending another ship to the grave before departing for destinations unknown. So disorganized was the whole mess that no one either side noticed the little personal sized craft streak down from the hollow remains of [i]Diligent[/i] to the big, flattened disc that Praxas appeared to be from this distance. “There’s only two courses of action they can take now. Either they’ll denounce Torsonnen’s empire, or they’ll hunt us down and blow us away. Most likely it will be the latter.” “Let’s make sure there’s no chance of them fully realizing the latter. Get us out of the system, please.” The astrogator punched a few keys. A lurch, and they were out of the system. Another lurch five seconds later, and they were at the edge of a new system. A new home. [i]Not that we’ll be here very long… Probably best not to unpack very many of the boxes.[/i] Alumehr was unfortunately out of Nebulid’s reach now. This would have to suffice for the time being…

Uh... yeah. Here is the mostly unedited, most hyphens removed, submission edition of the NaNo.



Manhunt

Prologue



Joran Nebulid cast an uneasy glance about him as he stepped onto the bridge of the ex-Torsonnen light carrier Valour for the first time. It seemed to be standard fare in terms of command bridge functionality - Ops, Tactical, Communications, and the ever reclusive helmsman each having their separate little niches, with command staff stationed in the middle of it all. Visually it was as appealing as a blank, grey wall can get. Nebulid’s initial impression of the ship was positive - it could certainly get to places fast. All that remained to be determined was whether or not it could be relied on to fight well once it got to those places. God willing, he thought, we will not need to test it much.

In all the galaxy he had never come across so varied a crew in terms of species - the captain was a Phoenix, one of the scarcest of all species remaining in the wake of Torsonnen’s bid for extermination. Several species, especially the already severely weakened Conari, had simply perished, completely demolished by the warlord turned emperor’s pro human jihad. Nebulid himself was human and the first mate. The second mate was a Krion, two generations descended from the leader of the original Krion embassy on Earth seven hundred years ago. Long generations, remarked Nebulid to himself as he continued to be amazed at the varied composition of the crew. If there was one thing to be said for rebellion, it was that it brought everyone together. Phoenix working with human and Krion and Liroid and N’Dlara; no “species barrier”, no difficulties, just taking care of business as usual on Valour. It was a call back to earlier times, the times of the Federation, the times of economic prosperity and mutual hope. So sickening that a mere thirty five years had sufficed to destroy twenty five thousand years of Federation history. That bastard! Advira Torsonnen had gained massive military supremacy through some unknown means. There was no escaping his wrath or shaking off the iron fist of his rule. Either you were already free or you were his.

The exception to that rule now stood on the bridge of Valour, revelling in the serene beauty of it all, awestruck by the sheer hope implicit in the crew’s composition. It took him some time to recognize that someone was calling for him.

As it turned out, it happened to be the captain. His translation unit bleated out the words: “How do you find the ship? Pleasing, I hope.”

“Absolutely,” he replied. “I have never seen such a crew in all my life.”

“True! They are one of a kind, the best crew I have ever had. I assure you, they will be a pleasure to work with. I trust you have acquainted yourself well enough with the bridge! Come, meet me at the launch bays. I will show you the other aspect of our crew’s greatness.” It was phrased as a suggestion, but the intonation (not in the translation, but the original words) had been commanding.

He seems to be a natural leader. Let’s hope the situation is as it seems…



From the bridge to the hangar was an appreciable walk - “light” though it was, Valour was still a big (ish) ship, about one hundred fifty metres long and fifty metres wide at the centre of its ovoid hull - and Nebulid wondered what Captain Msul’b could possibly want with him here. But the captain was the captain, regardless of any personal doubts on the matter. When ordered, unless there was a good reason (and a damned good one at that to even merit consideration!) for disobedience, compliance was expected. At any rate, his answer came as he stepped through the pressure door. It was one of those true jaw dropping moments you come across only once in a long while.

“You got a hold of some working Sentinel suits. My God!”

“Exclamations are totally unnecessary. Yes, we managed to obtain some of the old Torsonnen stock battlesuits. Most of them are Model ANs, but we do have a couple of suits as recent as AT. Coupled with a number of very talented mobile trooper candidates, those suits are what distinguish us from other groups.”

“This is excellent! I cannot possibly be happier that I managed to find my way to this job.”

“Glad to have you on board. I doubt you will enjoy the job ever again so much as you do at this moment.”

The grim statement returned Nebulid to reality. This is the most outmatched of all resistance movements ever conceived. We face an enemy that can literally destroy worlds with his immoral weaponry. Looking out through the force field airlock to his native Alumehr, Nebulid was struck with sadness - the odds against his ever returning home were tremendous, and though he knew he had made the right choice in signing on with Valour, Nebulid could not help but wish there was another way. “I suddenly share that doubt, sir.”

“No ‘sir’. Call me Captain, or Msul’b, or both. Never ‘sir’.” There was a distinct tone of anger, almost a vehemence, in that voice.

“Understood, Captain.” His strict Imperial Navy training still demanded formality on duty. He wondered why Captain Msul’b so violently opposed the word ‘sir’, but dared not ask.

“Now, I would like you to give the order to depart. I know you’ve a bit of command experience on you, but your new crew does not yet know you. Perhaps now is the time to acquaint yourself with them. But first, acquaint yourself with your quarters.”

Msul’b led Nebulid to his “spacious” officer’s quarters, which really amounted to little more than a human bed, nightstand (plastic) and small hygiene station. The Phoenix’ instinctive disdain for such human oriented facilities was readily apparent, but Nebulid paid it no heed, chalking it up to nature. Instead he said “When am I expected on bridge?”

“Take” - a slight pause while Msul’b carried out the conversions from his native time units to Galactic Standard - “twenty minutes,” the translation unit finished for him, automatically converting Galactic Standard to Terran terms for Nebulid. Why the device’s inventors had not simply programmed every Federation time unit into the translators escaped Nebulid, especially given the little effort it had taken to so reprogram the machine with Terran-Galactic conversion factors.

“Sounds fair. I look forward to serving with you, Captain.”

“I look forward to serving with you just as much, Commander. We shall make it a resistance worth remembering!”

So we shall… so we shall. Nebulid did not wish to contemplate the alternative.



He was not quite so awestruck by the crew’s varied composition on his second visit to the bridge, and this time he was able to pick out one of the subtler traits of the bridge crew: though efficient and excellent at their jobs, they seemed to never make the mistake of taking their work too seriously. Nebulid could not say the same for himself… he flexed the biomechanical fingers of his artificial left arm, remembering the unfortunate incident that had led to its loss, along with the rest of his body. But he put it out of his mind.

Captain Msul’b was already seated, and something which looked nothing at all like the natural form of a Krion but could only be the second mate itself stood ready.

Somewhat flustered still, Nebulid glanced over at Msul’b. “Where are we headed to?” He could not very well give the order to depart without a destination.

“We’re due to hit a Torsonnen battle group en router to Praxas in” - again the pause - “two days. Give the order any time you like, Commander.”

Noting the urgency of Msul’b’s request, Nebulid cleared his throat quietly. “Set course oh four two one four six nine four three. Take us out at four G.” Not that at any point any crewman would feel four gravities - excellent inertial compensators installed at all points of the ship took care of that particular problem. Nebulid reflected on his order - had he remembered to code acceleration units too? Evidently he had, for the ship acted exactly to expectations, and in fact far beyond them. Valour leaving Alumehr orbit was its own little graceful ballet. As the carrier slid effortlessly out of the planet’s gravity well, Nebulid was again reminded of his days on the bridge of Relentless. Again he put the thought out of his mind - his time of Torsonnen service had passed. He knew that it would never return, and he was glad to have given it up for the good fight. Anything to bring back the Federation.



It took almost an hour, even at four G, to get Valour sufficiently clear of gravitational perturbations to allow the jump to warp. The lonely astrogator near the end of the line at the Ops station called out “We will have optimal solution for jump to warp in twenty seconds or less.” No language difficulties here - the astrogator was descended from the race that had originated Galactic Standard, which translated easily enough into Terran. Those seconds passed relatively quickly, and then the astrogator said “We have optimal warp solution. It is all yours, Commander. We are ready to go.”

“Take us in.” The three words seemed most appropriate for the occasion. We’re dragging ourselves into a war that doesn’t even exist yet. Certainly they were far more appropriate than the hopelessly clichéd “Engage” frequently used as a sort of in-joke by Torsonnen navy men. He allowed himself a chuckle at that.

“Is there something humourous about what you just said, Commander? Please enlighten me.”

“No, I’m just remembering a life I no longer live. The person I used to be is dead.”

“The sooner you move on from your dead past, the better your present’s chances of survival are.”

Again Nebulid flexed his artificial left hand, readily concurring.

A sudden lurch, and then they were completely out of the system. “First jump complete. Second jump in five seconds.” Five seconds passed, then another lurch and they were at Praxas, or at least at the outer rim of its solar system. “Second jump complete. Third jump in twenty seconds.” Final jump, Nebulid thought, to bring us just outside Praxas’ gravity well. From there they would proceed under normal power to wherever they were headed, to do whatever they planned to do. The third and final jump was the most important and delicate. If the calculations were even minutely off, the ship could be ripped apart by the vastly increased gravitational differentials - Roche’s limit on a man made scale.

The third lurch was stronger than the others. “Third jump completed. We are currently two million kilometres outward of Praxas. Real time elapsed while we were in warp is 22.49 hours. We’re here, Captain.”

“Excellent. How long until the battle group arrives?”

“10.24 hours, Captain,” said the helmsman. “Shall I move us into position?”

“No, we will stay here for awhile first. Nebulid, the bridge is yours; I will be back in… two hours.” Msul’b walked out, presumably heading to his quarters to rest a bit.

Great, now what am I supposed to do? Nebulid resigned himself to a long, long two hourse of more or less nothing. And people enjoy this?

Then the joke swapping started, and he immediately knew why they did.



“…Your Imperial Majesty? You are an unexpected addition to the ship.”

“I’m well aware of that. Praxas has been falling behind their Sentinel suit production quota of late. My men need those suits to continue to fight for me. Perhaps a personal visit will somewhat encourage them to put more effort into their production.”

“As you wish, Your Imperial Majesty.” And just like that, Emperor Advira Torsonnen of the “Terran Empire” (more aptly named the Torsonnen Empire, and most aptly named “those bastards”) was on board one of his navy’s strike carriers. He found the accommodations sufficiently bare for his taste. Out the view port he saw the rest of the battle group, loosely arrayed in a wide entrapment formation. Excellent. There was another reason Emperor Torsonnen was on board: he wished to see the fish squirm in the net. Fresh catch was always such a pleasure to behold, and to torture…



Captain Msul’b’s return to the bridge was unceremonious. “Commander, did anything of note occur during my absence?” The Phoenix already knew well what the answer would be, but there was always the possibility of an aberration.

“Nope. I must say I had forgotten what a tedious job being a skipper is. The last two hours have been a test of my mental endurance - and more specifically, my ability to resist boredom.”

“It gladdens me to see you enjoying your work so.” He chuckled. “Take two hours for yourself. I will have Makhidaralore take the second seat in your place.”

“Thank you.” Nebulid vacated the bridge hastily. On his way out the door, though, a thought struck him. “What if they know we’re here?”

“They do. I had our best intel expert arrange the leak. They think they got the information from their own intelligence service, but we know better.”

“What if they know we know they know we are here?” Nebulid had to ask.

“It changes nothing. The mission has nothing to do with stealth and everything to do with planning. More specifically, it has everything to do with plotting. This is an assassination.”

“Assassination, is it? Who is the lucky customer?” Who could we possibly be going after, unequipped as we are?

“Yes, assassination. We’re going after the ‘Holy Guardian’, Torsonnen’s chiefest of all chief fleet admirals. He’s due here in… 8.2 hours to check on the battlesuit production factories here on Praxas. I apologize for not telling you beforehand what exactly you were getting into; please understand that security issues prohibited it. Even command staff can go bad sometimes.” Tell me about it, said Nebulid inwardly, recalling the story of how his old Federation cruiser’s captain had come across Torsonnen troops, then defected immediately, forcing all crew to comply or simply shooting them himself. Nebulid had wanted to punch the “man” in the face over that. Coincidentally, he was to get the chance to repay the favour, as that same former captain was now their very target in this assassination ploy. Pay back time, you son of a bitch! The suggested punishment of a punch in the face had now escalated into full blown blood vengeance.

All this he thought within the span of his “Affirmative and understood” reply. The door closed behind him, and the Krion second mate settled into Nebulid’s chair. It was only a matter of time now - time for their Sentinels to get ready, time for the battle group to arrive. The waiting game has never been my strong point, Msul’b admitted.



The trap was set. The fleet was ready. They would all depart at the same time for Praxas in two minutes. Advira Torsonnen looked over the deployments one more time and smiled. The Holy Guardian certainly knew his tactics. This is perfect. We will drop out of warp all over the system. There is no way those rebel fools can elude such a net!

The thought that the rebels could know that he knew they were there crossed Torsonnen’s mind briefly, but he immediately did away with it on the grounds that his intelligence service had considerable talent in their field. Their methods were discreet enough to positively impact their efficiency, to say the very least. That lent credence to their reports. It was enough for Torsonnen, who had more on his mind than just the occasional sloppy Intel agent making his presence known by accident. Matters of state were nothing to laugh at. And if they do know, what difference does it make at all? They know very well how vital this supply mission is to us. They will still do everything in their power to block it, not that it will do a thing. And I will show them the meaning of futility! They will scatter before the wake of my driving force, and I will crush them!

A lurch, then five seconds, then another lurch, then twenty seconds, then another lurch, and they were there. The most important battle of Torsonnen’s campaign to date had begun, though he knew it not yet…



When only two Torsonnen ships showed up at the rendezvous point, all bridge staff immediately knew something was amiss. To be fair, they had already known to expect something like this, but knowledge and reality are not always necessarily the same thing. “Have our mobile troopers launch. We have at most ten minutes before they locate us. And let’s see if we can pinpoint the Holy Guardian’s ship, too. Tactical, charge up the plasma guns and begin working out firing solutions on those ships. Move out!” Msul’b had settled firmly into command mode now. He was totally intent, totally focused, totally in his element. A better tactician than him might never have existed in all time. Certainly not in the present. “Bring us about to face the first Torsonnen ship, that one over there.” He pointed.

“You mean Relentless? Even your souped up plasma gun is barely going to put a scratch in that behemoth’s hull.” Nebulid spoke from experience. “I suggest finding one of the smaller strike carriers and taking that out, just to eliminate one or two of the plasma guns shooting us. - Crap. Here come the fighters. I hope you have a lot of heavies on you.”

“We have a fair number. Do not worry. Also we have a small fighter squadron of our own; Ops, please have them launch now.” ‘Heavies’ referred to mobile troopers equipped with portable missile launchers rather than the standard beam sabre. Coupled with the standard issue ion guns given to all mobile troopers, the missiles made quick work of fighters, so heavies were typically employed in an anti-fighter facility, although occasionally they would be deployed against capital ships.

Tactical called out “Solution for Relentless has arrived. Shall I fire?” Nebulid frowned. He hoped Msul’b would make the right call on this shot.

Msul’b said “Fire.”

Nebulid cried out in exasperation. “It won’t do a thing! Find a smaller ship with less shielding and destroy that instead! For example, over there” - he pointed out a small strike carrier five thousand kilometres to port - “there’s a perfect candidate.” He trailed off. Something had struck him, something familiar about the ship he had just pointed out. It was almost as though… “…and the Emperor is on it.”

“WHAT?!” Shocked, Msul’b continued “How do you know this?”

“I had to kind of piece it together for myself. I got hints from actions the Emperor was taking around the time I made my run for it - strengthening that particular ship, grooming it for his personal favour. Also, he incessantly prated on about the grand plan, how he intended to trap each and every resistance group across the galaxy and personally oversee their demise. The connection was not difficult to make once I recognized that ship as Diligent. Your next move, Captain?” There was a hint of smug satisfaction in his voice - he had been right in pointing out smaller targets after all.

“Obviously we have no choice but to blow Diligent away. Tactical, belay the fire order against Relentless. I need a solution on Diligent. Helm, have us assume standard evasive pattern; needless to say, Tactical, base your solution on that.”

“Absolutely.” Now, for the time being, there was nothing to do but just watch…



Six shiny new Torsonnen fighters came cruising in, all guns blazing, their fire matched by six less shiny resistance fighters. Only six fighters emerged from that little fracas - and none of them had been shiny to start the fray, so the debris did not matter much in terms of scratches and dents to the already less than optimal hulls.

Omega Lead grinned. “A perfect sortie. If only the whole galaxy were so inept with their fighters.”

Omega Three concurred. “But then we would have no work left to do. They would all be dead.”

Two corrected him, “Nay! Know you not that for every hopelessly shitty pilot we slay, three more equally shitty pilots pop up to take his place?”

“Bah! A minor detail. The galaxy can’t have that many ships to kill. They would run out of raw materials for the fighters.” He knew he was wrong. They knew too.

“Your ability to pussyfoot around any concession of any or no importance is first rate. Just give it up, for once. Your ego will be sated enough by the end of the battle anyways.”

“Understood.” Three pulled sharply away from the flight group in pursuit of a tight grouping of Torsonnen fighters. Two peeled off as well to cover him. Together they made swift work of the flight group. “Thief,” he accused Two facetiously, then they fell back into formation.

As they systematically cleared the fighters closing in from Relentless out, the mobile troopers were having their own brand of fun. As the Torsonnen drop ships had yet to arrive within drop distance of Valour, then Sentinel had a lot of time on their hands, having quick draw competitions with their ion guns and races with their jet assemblies. Eventually, though, the Torsonnen troopers reached drop range, and legions of battlesuits poured out. There was something wrong about these suits, though… Major Lanai looked closely at them. That was the problem! She could see them! “Are those new models or decoys?” she asked.

“Emission profile matches the data we have on the new suits. Try shooting ‘em,” said Tactical on Valour.

Good idea. Raising here ion gun, she fired off a quick burst. Immediately the area she’d targeted burst into action - and light. Each and every one of the Torsonnen suits lit up with a delicate framework of illuminators. Their jet assemblies poured out emissions practically on a capital ship scale. Like a fireworks show. Putting it out of her mind, she drew her beam sabre and manipulated her jets to send her crashing into the Torsonnen formation. For all their fancy equipment, few of them, if any, had any actual combat experience. To a war seasoned fighter like herself they were nothing. A beam scythe came crashing down at her, but she caught the blade on one of her forearm mounted combat knives and plunged her sabre into the exposed battlesuit body. Quickly disengaging to move on to her next target, she was surprised to see an explosion that would have been accompanied by a thunderous BANG if it had occurred in an atmosphere. It looked to have been a strike cruiser. Taroth class maybe, although… “Was that Diligent that just blew up over there?” she called out to Valour in between engagements. Then she was occupied by a duel with somewhat of a more skilled Torsonnen trooper, so she didn’t hear the answer, or when she did, she wasn’t able to listen.



“Yes!!!” The answer was yes. Diligent had been destroyed, taking with it its payload of Advira Torsonnen. The exultation was enormous. Nebulid was lauded as a hero, as well as the otherwise anonymous Tactical expert, who had managed to hit the shot from an unprecedented five thousand kilometres away. Captain Msul’b said “Alright. Let’s pull out. Our work here is done. Gather up our fighters and mobile troopers, and let’s see if we can’t find a relatively intact Torsonnen suit to pick apart. Get at it!”



The Torsonnen forces were reeling at the loss of their commander. Valour even managed to get a couple more shots in, sending another ship to the grave before departing for destinations unknown. So disorganized was the whole mess that no one either side noticed the little personal sized craft streak down from the hollow remains of Diligent to the big, flattened disc that Praxas appeared to be from this distance.

“There’s only two courses of action they can take now. Either they’ll denounce Torsonnen’s empire, or they’ll hunt us down and blow us away. Most likely it will be the latter.”

“Let’s make sure there’s no chance of them fully realizing the latter. Get us out of the system, please.”

The astrogator punched a few keys. A lurch, and they were out of the system. Another lurch five seconds later, and they were at the edge of a new system. A new home.

Not that we’ll be here very long… Probably best not to unpack very many of the boxes. Alumehr was unfortunately out of Nebulid’s reach now. This would have to suffice for the time being…

[i]One - Campaign[/i] Captain James Kain of the Imperial supercarrier [i]Relentless[/i] hazarded a look over at his secondary, who seemed deep in thought. Kain knew the man to be psionically gifted, but had rarely ever seen the gift in action. Finally the first mate said “I’ve located the Emperor.” “He isn’t dead?! Excellent! Let’s track him down and bring him aboard, and quickly!” “Not even necessary; he is already on a shuttle headed our way. Shall I dispatch escorts?” “Do it immediately.” [i]How did these rebels know with such precision where the Emperor was? And how did they calculate that shot so quickly? It was five thousand kilometres away in some of the most electrically active space in all the galaxy! I smell treason.[/i] But of course, in light of recent events, he smelled treason everywhere. His thoughts strayed again to the most likely source of that particular habit - the traitor Joran Nebulid. Had that broken half man fell into bed with the rebels after his desertion? [i]I will hunt him down now and kill him myself.[/i] Soon enough the Emperor was on board, and with no further ado he seized personal command of [i]Relentless[/i] - stressing all the while that it was nothing personal, merely a wish to oversee matters more closely. “I will have their blood. Are there any objections to that?” On the contrary, there was uproarious agreement among the bridge crew. Shouts of bloodlust and cries for rebel heads on platters filled the room - Kain in particular seemed to be quite thrilled by the prospect of taking out the rebels. “Then the hunt begins. The Holy Guardian will not go without vengeance! They are ours.” [i]Relentless[/i] lurched out of the system, then on to Eridium, where they would check with Intel as to any leads on the rebels’ current position. [i]Nebulid[/i], thought Kain, [i]will likely know how Intel goes about its business. He can use that information against us, planting all manner of red herrings and other nastiness. Oh well. It will only make the final act of my driving this knife into his chest all the more satisfying…[/i] Joran Nebulid came on bridge to see Captain Msul’b glaring at him. “What in the galaxy have you done, Commander? The natives are threatening to shoot us down! Why did you have to parade your cyberbiomechanical parts in front of them? As it so happens to turn out, they are mortally afraid of such artificial bodies!” “I’m planting false evidence. Captain Kain and his [i]Relentless[/i] are no doubt in hot pursuit of our trail at the moment. I suggest we now jump out of the system and hover around there for a couple of hours, then jump back in at that ice planet over there.” “Perhaps I just don’t understand the underlying principles of this strategy here. What should this accomplish, given our success at pulling whatever ruse is on here?” “They were bound to find us eventually. Intel is a serious information machine. Everything filters down to them with time. If Intel discovers we’ve been here and left, they will without a doubt advise against [i]Relentless[/i] popping in there to look for us. Wasteful of time and such. Do you not think so?” Msul’b considered it for a short time. “You seem to have an acute understanding of how their search is going to work. I trust that you know what you are doing. Is that why you picked this particular system at first?” “In fact, yes it is indeed. Good catch. Let’s just hope this works; I’m all out of ideas otherwise…” A lurch, and [i]Valour[/i] was parked just outside the system. They would wait an hour or two more, then jump back into the system, thus providing themselves a handy hole to hide in. Basically they were digging that hole, getting in, and pulling it in behind them afterwards. It was a handy trick. In the meantime, an impromptu science lab had been manufactured for study of the new battlesuit model. Nebulid decided to drop in on the testing. “How goes it now?” he inquired of a battered old Liroid, who appeared to be in charge of the procedure. “The Model AX seems to be a huge departure from previous Model A editions. Jet assembly maximum output seems greatly enhanced, but it seems to carry with it a slight problem. I would not be surprised to see a complete reissue in the near future over this one, in fact. It generates far too much heat. Ordinarily this would be no problem, but it seems that to decrease the suit’s mass for the greater thruster output power, they removed the largest of the suit’s three heat sink systems. Weaponry seems to have been standardized, too - there is no way any weapon but a beam scythe could fit in that sheath. Do you have any ideas?” “Death,” he said. “In the most prominent Terran mythology, Death is represented by a skeletal figure wearing a long dark cloak and wielding a scythe. The connotations of this vary from subculture to subculture, but the image remains similar. See the body plates here, here and here? They look remarkably like the fringes of a cloak to me. And the head piece is a dead ringer for a hood. I would say we have a galaxy class case of imagery here. In fact I would go so far as to add an adjective to the Sentinel name to properly reflect that change in imagery. These are not Sentinel suits of the conventional type. These are Death Sentinels.” “An interesting term. Simple, too - I have no doubt it could become prevalent soon.” “And it allows us to distinguish ourselves more easily from them. I certainly have the idea that John McCarmack is turning in his grave over what has become of his military program. What our own Sentinels are doing brings some honour back to the centuries old term.” The mobile troopers in the room all turned momentarily from their work, saluted Nebulid, and went immediately back to analysis. “Let’s get back to the primary topic, then. Do you have any idea why it might be so bright, even in idle mode?” “No. With your keen analytical skill and closer relation to the Terran mind than us, you should be able to figure it out, though. I can only but guess.” “Keen analytical mind? That was all strictly guesswork, just supported by the facts and by history. But I can see this being employed as a scare tactic by Torsonnen. The bright colours could potentially be intended to inspire fear. What do you think of that?” “My own guess was that it inspired fear by revealing their numbers. It could very well be both, or either, or even neither one. I thank you for your visit, Commander. It has been very revealing, a probable source of insight for one of our analysts some later time.” “Thank you for allowing me to see the suit in the first place. I know how tight you like to be about these things initially. I will come back again.” With such a polite cap to the conversation, he could not help but smile on his way to the bridge. His smile faded quickly as he heard the sudden announcement: “Commander Nebulid, to the bridge, please. This is a Level One Alert. Repeat, we are at a Level One Alert.” His walk became a run. Crewmen were forced out of his way as he rapidly approached the bridge. His first words once he was through the door were “I’ve been had, haven’t I?” He turned to face Captain Msul’b and saw from the look of consternation on the captain’s face that indeed he had not. “No, I was being serious. We’re in full evasive right now. They have not launched fighters or mobile troopers, yet, though. They’re identifying as rebel. Should I--” “Begging your pardon, Captain, but their ID is bullshit. Anybody should be able to recognize that ship as [i]Relentless[/i].” Into the comm he yelled “Hear this, Kain. Your days are numbered! No mere ID swap is going to fool a former [i]Relentless[/i] officer…” Tactical said “They’re launching fighters and mobile infantry, Captain.” Msul’b added “What have you done now, Nebulid? They are now firing at us! However will your plan work with this turn of events? Please tell me what that was for.” “It’s no use having your enemy stare you down like that anyway. Get us out of here right now! We can’t fight [i]Relentless[/i], not without an entire armada of these.” Seeing Tactical punch in orders, he said “Don’t launch anybody! We need to run right now. No fighting retreat, no valiant last stand, no nothing. Just run! On normal power, if necessary, until we get a solution for warping the [i]hell[/i] out of here. Ops, I need a solution to the Outer Rim. Anywhere is fine, just get us out of civilization. Quickly! We have no time left!” As [i]Valour[/i] streaked away from the supercarrier, Captain Msul’b spoke. “You seem to be quite good at being afraid of that ship, Nebulid. Almost suicidally so… This is another one of those unfortunate instances where you just did not know enough to be able to make the right decision.” A lurch, and in record time they were at the Rim. “Take us to Darahn, now. As I was saying, Commander, we were about to create a small warp stream in their engineering section. They’d have been unable to move at all for at least ten hours [i]after[/i] they found a way to clean up the mess. Perhaps we would have been lucky enough to send their entire warp assembly to Earth if our aim was true.” “[i]Shit![/i] You were seriously about to do that? Aww, I can’t believe it. I would have been totally ready to do that at the drop of a hat! My apologies for turning us around.” “It’s not a terrible problem. We’re out of there; that’s all that matters at the moment.” “Kain will make sure we are not out of his grasp for long. I know him well. He knows me well. There is, ultimately, no place in the galaxy to which he cannot track us. All he needs is enough time.” “Then we will just have to correct that, won’t we? Darahn seems suitably obscure for our purposes. It is another ice planet, so we should turn up invisible on their sensors. The only difficulty will be moving out if they [i]do[/i] find us. In the meantime we can establish a base there, conduct operations from there, et cetera. We will be unstoppable.” “Except if some lucky bloke figures out how to block the sudden appearance of a warp stream in his engineering section, in which case one of the most innovative weapons of all time goes to waste.” “The problem is that it is all too easily blocked in the first place. It is a one shot deal. Once we use it the first time, they will immediately have it figured out. Soon enough, it will be useless.” “And we just missed our best opportunity to use it, too. I can’t believe it!” “Don’t berate yourself so much! It could have happened to anyone - you are not the only commander who has been misinformed in the past. Self derision will not help at all with the current situation.” His sentence was punctuated by a lurch. Darahn was a very small planet that had somehow found its way into orbit around a red dwarf star near the Outer Rim. It had basically been found, named and then left along by the Federation for thousands of years. Therefore, it was the perfect hiding place for a ship that wanted to disappear off the face of the galaxy. [i]Pity there’s nothing to breathe there.[/i] The planet was far too small to maintain an atmosphere of any kind, however thin. It would be necessary to create an artificial habitat for the people living there. [i]Not a huge problem.[/i] The main problem seemed to be getting [i]off[/i] of the planet. It would be a perilous procedure, especially given [i]Valour’s[/i] non predisposition towards travel in a sharp gravity well like that found on a planet. The alternative was keeping [i]Valour[/i] in orbit and using shuttles to traverse between ship and surface, but then departure was just as difficult, for the shuttles could not carry more than a fraction of the crew at a time. Eventually it was decided that the ship would remain in orbit, as well as most of the crew. Only as many crewers as the shuttles could hold would be stationed on the planet at any given time. Personally Nebulid had no idea why they didn’t all just stay on the ship in orbit. He voiced this, and the crew’s response to it seemed mostly favourable, but Msul’b put his foot down. “Perhaps I should explain why the planetside base is necessary. So be it then. Basically, we’re running low on resources. We would run out of energy for the life support systems in a month without the fuel on that planet down there.” “Wasn’t the entire point of this to set up a base for raids? We could raid for resources, then retreat back here where they can’t possibly find us.” “That is… a workable idea. Also somewhat of a surprise coming from you. You seemed to me to be more of the security loving, conservative type, not the type to strike out boldly like that.” “I would take offense at that if it were not so true. I consider it less of a risk to us than the planetside base idea. We get to stay mobile. Harder to hit a moving target and all that.” “Admitted. Let’s give it a whirl that way, then. If it proves unsuccessful, either we can come back here and make the base, or… or it will not really matter anyway.” “At least we have one major accomplishment to claim for ourselves. The assassination of ‘Emperor’ Torsonnen is nothing to be ashamed of or hide away.” “It’s decided, then. We’ll try it the Commander’s way first this time. Move out!” Emperor Advira Torsonnen, having taken complete control by now over [i]Relentless[/i], as was his standard fashion in all matters relating to his surroundings, took a look at the galaxy map, trying to determine possible locations for [i]Valour[/i]. It appeared they were somewhere in the Outer Rim, based on their warp vector. It also appeared that they believed him dead. [i]Good. Perhaps we can use that to lure them into the open sometime. In the meantime it must be nurtured.[/i] Kain would be his figurehead then. He could have Kain “assume command” over the Empire in the wake of Torsonnen’s “death”, then manage the entire affair from behind the curtain, while his puppet drew all the much unwanted attention away from the fact that, indeed, Torsonnen did still walk the deck of [i]Relentless[/i] and the deck of life. [i]Excellent! I impress even myself sometimes! Now, if only we could get those foolish rebels into the open, it would all be complete…[/i] The “foolish rebels” were doing some scheming of their own, mostly centred around a little planet near the Galactic Core called Hodanh. It was rich in natural resources, such as the radioactive cobalt they needed for their reactor, as well as iron to construct the base with (their current supplies could only build so much) should this life or raiding grow ineffective or otherwise turn sour. [i]Let’s hope for all our sakes it doesn’t.[/i] Nebulid, for one, could not abide the thought of spending his life sitting idly, tending machinery, never really [i]living[/i] at all. [i]Let’s make sure these raids pay off.[/i] He also began training himself at the other stations. You never knew when your Ops guy was going to have to take a break to relieve himself or something, and you wanted to be able to account for his absence in those times, otherwise if things got unexpectedly screwy you would be stuck there without an effective astrogator. Or if your Tactical specialist was suddenly struck by an unknown ailment in the heat of battle, you wanted to be able to keep shooting, however less effective it might be. The list went endlessly on. A commander couldn’t just be a commander. He had to be able to substitute for any of his downed crewmates. It did not matter whether the chief Tactical officer or the lowliest sub-navigation advisory position was suddenly vacant. The vacancy had to be filled, no matter the type or reason. Other ships would have had a pool of backups for such an instance, but [i]Valour[/i], despite its general state of overstaffment, had no such pool for bridge crew (most of the extra people were in the engineering section). Commander Nebulid thought briefly of getting a bridge training session for other crew set up, but dismissed it on grounds of sheer unfeasibility. Besides, overstaffed or not, those people were every bit as important where they were as they would be on the bridge, especially the engineers making it possible to take the ship anywhere at all. He silently applauded them all, even the lowliest of them. He was again reminded of them when a lurch announced their arrival at Hodanh. [i]Relentless[/i] was refuelling at Earth when Torsonnen heard the news: [i]Valour[/i] had carried out a resource raid at Hodanh. They managed to pick up large quantities of reactor grade cobalt, as well as inordinate amounts of iron and carbon. [i]Damn! I must not let myself lose sight of the threat they pose to “Kain’s” empire. They could easily be our undoing if we let them alone for long enough. With Nebulid probably came some plans for military devices, possibly Sentinel suits, even! I must track them down soon. This raid has certainly made its impression on me…[/i] “Kain!” He called for his figurehead, who was just glad to be able to hunt down the traitor Joran Nebulid. “I want you to order a complete military lockdown of all resource planets. Keep it on the low down though. Let’s see if we can’t trap them.” “Absolutely.” He hastened to his HoloComm station to relay the order to the fleet. [i]Excellent! My plan will come to fruition sooner than expected… and I will see them writhe in the net.[/i] “Excellent Our plan has come to fruition sooner than expected. My compliments on an excellent idea, Commander. I hope you find it in yourself to forgive my initial hesitance. I was in the wrong - perhaps we [i]can[/i] continue aggressively rebelling even in the wake of the assassination.” “It’s become even more personal for me now. Kain has got to be my most hated person of all time, next to Torsonnen himself, who’s dead anyway. Besides, I never actually met Torsonnen. I have had much experience with Kain’s tyranny.” “Hah! Tyranny? Perhaps he was their best choice, after all! He seems so much like Torsonnen that they could be long lost twins.” Msul’b chuckled. “Don’t think it has not been the subject of much speculation among [i]Relentless[/i] crewers, especially the ones like me who wanted out in the worst way.” “Some of them [i]did[/i] get out in the worst way. Did you hear? Total staff changeover on [i]Relentless[/i]. Most of the people replaced were simply spaced for no good reason.” “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to find him, sometime, away from his invincible ship, and I’m going to take a knife and stick it in him, and I’m going to watch him die, slowly, and then I’m going to laugh at him. Then I’ll bring him back to life and do it all over again, and again, enough times to personally avenge every one of those poor people they spaced [i]and[/i] their families.” “Don’t go overboard here. Remember that he is out of reach at the moment. There will be a time for revenge, but do not blow it all now by acting too prematurely.” [i]I don’t want to wait! I[/i] can’t.[i] The pressures are mounting inside me. They’re demanding action NOW. What am I to do, though? I can’t touch [/i]Relentless[i], that much is for sure. Perhaps another time the opportunity will arise…[/i] He resigned himself to waiting. [i]I seem to be doing a lot of resignation lately. First my abandonment of the Empire for this rebellion, then leaving my home, then putting off all my exquisite revenge plots… How long will it have to be before I can plunge that knife in and hear him scream? How long until I make my brother realize his mistake?[/i] Kain finished relaying the necessary orders, then returned to his Emperor’s staging room. Torsonnen himself was not there, having adjourned to his quarters for the time being. [i]Nebulid will pay! His half human form will not continue to elude us for much longer. This will catch him, and when it does, I will show him the new true meaning of ‘cyber’. He will die! And when that is done, perhaps I can begin to purify all of mankind.[/i] It was all part of the master plan he had concocted over the long months since Nebulid’s flight from the service of his most illustrious Emperor Advira Torsonnen. Once the human race was all that remained in the galaxy, there would be nothing left to purify - nothing but the race itself. [i]That[/i], he thought, [i]can be arranged.[/i] And the anonymous voice that tended to drop in and out of his mind expressed its agreement. The purity of the race, after all, was always a very serious issue… A half month passed without anything near or even somewhat resembling activity on the Torsonnen front or on the Darahn front. Basically the entire galaxy just sat and stagnated for two weeks. At long length, though, it was decided that the time was ripe for another resource raid, this time somewhere a bit closer to home to cut down on costs. Another Outer Rim world would be ideal - close, easy to hit, et cetera. The difficulty was finding a resource world in the Outer Rim worth their time. Most of them were basically one family planets with little personal businesses in the mining industry, trying to prove their worth to the Emperor in hopes of some kind of promotion or whatnot. Eventually they were forced to look back inward, closer to the Core. They came upon the idea of attacking Earth, but dismissed it just as quickly as it came, for all the obvious reasons and a few more - namely there was no poetry in it. However that point got in the discussion, no one may ever know, but it did, and it served to defeat Earth as a possibility. A half joking suggestion of Mars was also instantly rejected, for good reason. Tulsa Prime was eventually selected based on its resource stockpiles and its relatively undefended status. The mission was planned out quickly over the next two hours. Nebulid suggested just coming in hard, but that was shot down quickly. Msul’b preferred a more stealthy approach, and Makhi agreed, so it was set. They would not blaze into Tulsa Prime, but rather creep in on their bellies and creep out. [i]Leaving the Torsonnen fleet none the wiser… let’s hope it works as well this time as last.[/i] [i]Relentless[/i] was here to fill a hole. The hole was basically a missing ship not able to cover Tulsa Prime. Earth was more than well enough defended at the moment anyway, especially given its relative lack of resources remaining after millennia of exploitation by a hungry populace. Torsonnen was sure that a resource planet was going to be hit soon, though, and this one could be it. [i]I hope they come here, anyway, so I can watch them die personally.[/i] He turned to Kain. “Put us in idle, please.” Kain complied immediately. [i]I like that man. He obeys me without question every time. I would be honoured to have that man as an heir. Of course, that could not be made official; certain circumstances tend to stand in the way of that, including this one. Perhaps after we crush those rebels, I’ll give it another thought. He could use a promotion. Relentless[/i] immediately went into idle mode. All weapons systems remained at the ready, but propulsion was nearly nil, as well as sensors. It would take only five minutes to restart the ship in case of a raid, however. Torsonnen was pleased, for this was the case all over the galaxy at resource planets everywhere. [i]We have them exactly where we want them. It is only a matter of time before they turn up, wherever they do, and then they will pay for their crimes.[/i] “Now preparing for final jump. Twenty seconds.” [i]We have them right where we want them.[/i] Nebulid could not help but smile. [i]They will pay in full for their crimes against the Federation! Against the galaxy.[/i] A lurch, and the smile was immediately wiped from his face and replaced with a frown. They’d managed to drop out of warp right on top of a Torsonnen ship - supercarrier - [i]Relentless. Aww shit, why’d my day have to become like this?[/i] “It’s [i]Relentless![/i] They’ve already started launching! We’ve been played. Let’s get the hell out of here! Go! Move!” Nobody moved. Nebulid was shocked to see a total lack of movement anywhere on the bridge, with one notable exception. “Lieutenant, what the hell is going on?” Surely the Krion would know. It did. “It appears there is someone aboard that ship with psionic talent. Difficulty is, I can’t locate them yet. My guess is that they’re one of the bridge staff, however, based on how quickly they eliminated the crew. Can you pilot while I try to throw off the freeze that psionic Torsonnen crewer is placing on our crew?” “Surprisingly, yes I can.” Glad to have taken the lessons he had, Nebulid eased himself into the helmsman’s seat, gently guiding its previous occupant to the floor. Trying to once more get a feel for the controls, Nebulid was rewarded with a slight lurch. They were moving - [i]toward[/i] the supercarrier! Nebulid hurriedly countered the move, sending them violently the other way. “It would be helpful if you could make the ride a bit smoother so that I can concentrate,” said the Krion second mate, still trying in vain to revive the astrogator. [i]Good choice. The only two people we actually need to get out of here are the astrogator and the helmsman. Command staff take second priority to that. At the very least, they can be revived once we clear the zone anyway. Come on, damned controls! Respond![/i] Again he was rewarded with a lurch. [i]Damn you! Move smoothly![/i] The device steadfastly refused to move the ship in any smooth manner. Nebulid growled. “You are not helping with your erratic piloting. Please try to make it smoother if at all possible.” “Cut me some slack! I just learned a week ago!” He punctuated the sentence with another shaky movement of the carrier. He was in luck - a plasma bolt came streaking by, missing barely. The hull took a little bit of heat damage, but otherwise no harm was done to [i]Valour[/i]. “What do you have to say to that? Huh?” [i]Just try to rag on my piloting skills again, eh? I’ll show you! Valour[/i] made its shaky way towards the edge of the system, hotly pursued by a much more professionally piloted [i]Relentless. I wonder what they’re making of this all over there? They must be laughing.[/i] On the contrary, they were aghast. [i]How in the heavens is that ship moving still? There’s not a way in hell it could possibly have enough crew to even run like that. There’s only two of them, both bridge crew, according to my gifted Number One! I’ll have my answers.[/i] But of course Kain was not the skipper of this particular vessel any longer. He was a figurehead for Torsonnen, who was the real commander in this time. [i]I hope his plan works… Nebulid must pay. Of course, they are doomed.[/i] “Launch the mobile troops.” “Okay, this is not good. [i]Relentless[/i] is spewing battlesuits. Let’s get our astrogator back in the land of the living, and quick!” [i]We need to get out of here [/i]now. [i]No choice. Just leave.[/i] “I can’t revive him fast enough with your choppy flying! Try to get us under control!” “I’m doing the best I can!” [i]Valour[/i] continued to twitch side to side, but it was slightly less violent in its migrations. [i]Come on, you steel brute! Bend to my will! I will--[/i] --A plasma bolt grazed them. Nebulid could hear the computer squeal “Hull integrity compromised in Sector 8. Security doors closed and sealed. Repeat--” “Quiet!” [i]I need to concentrate! This beast is unresponsive enough already. Damn it![/i] “Looks like we lost one of our thrusters to the blast, too. God damn it all!” “Good! Maybe you won’t bounce us around so much now! I can get some reviving done!” [i]Funny[/i], thought Nebulid, then he returned to trying to elicit a response from [i]Valour[/i]. “Their mobile troopers are closing in fast. I recommend you work a bit swifter, Lieutenant.” It turned and faced him. “Shut the hell up and let me work! Lords, man.” Nebulid went totally silent, stunned by the outburst. [i]Alright, let’s see what this thing can do![/i] He played with a few settings, netting a response mor favourable than earlier. [i]Maybe if I can keep up these kind of less choppy maneuvers, Makhi can revive our astrogator.[/i] For its part, Makhi was working without pause, trying approach after approach to the astrogator’s mind. It was not getting anywhere, however. None of the approaches it was taking were working. [i]Lords Above, grant me this one request! All I ask is this one’s soul restored to its body![/i] Applying its power, Makhi tried this time to forcibly rip apart the barrier keeping the astrogator in his comatose state. It felt something give way somewhere else. [i]Good! Finally I’m getting somewhere! Now to locate the hole I’ve just created.[/i] A cursory search pointed out the general area of the mind in which the block was in place. [i]Good! We get closer at every step. But the mobile troopers approach, too. I must hurry and finish my diagnosis. Valour[/i] continued to barely dodge incoming plasma bolts, basically just because of the sheer dumb luck of Nebulid’s terrible piloting. [i]Damn! To think that all that keeps us alive is that man’s ineptitude. I must rectify this situation.[/i] It had located the hole now. [i]Now to get a figurative wedge.[/i] A false memory was quickly created for the purpose. [i]Perfect. We will have this man’s mind back![/i] He stirred slowly, his senses returning to him. “What in the hell just happened to me? We appeared on top of [i]Relentless[/i], then nothing, then I just wake up? What is--” Nebulid called back from the pilot’s seat “No time! We revived you first for a reason. I need a warp solution out of this system, and I need it yesterday.” “Understood.” The astrogator lent all of his supreme calculatory skill to the task. The computer did all the dirty work for him, but the equations were all his. “We will have optimal warp solution in around a minute, Commander.” “I don’t want optimal solution! I want a solution NOW! Just get us the fucking hell out of here!” “Understood.” He pulled a few switches, not bothering to refine the equations any further. A lurch, this time a blessing rather than a curse. “We made it. Problem is…” “Oh good God, what could it possibly be this time?” Given the circumstances, it was not entirely unreasonable for Nebulid to expect the worst. “Well, other than the fact that everyone seems to still be asleep, nothing. But that might be it.”

One - Campaign

Captain James Kain of the Imperial supercarrier Relentless hazarded a look over at his secondary, who seemed deep in thought. Kain knew the man to be psionically gifted, but had rarely ever seen the gift in action. Finally the first mate said “I’ve located the Emperor.”

“He isn’t dead?! Excellent! Let’s track him down and bring him aboard, and quickly!”

“Not even necessary; he is already on a shuttle headed our way. Shall I dispatch escorts?”

“Do it immediately.” How did these rebels know with such precision where the Emperor was? And how did they calculate that shot so quickly? It was five thousand kilometres away in some of the most electrically active space in all the galaxy! I smell treason. But of course, in light of recent events, he smelled treason everywhere.

His thoughts strayed again to the most likely source of that particular habit - the traitor Joran Nebulid. Had that broken half man fell into bed with the rebels after his desertion? I will hunt him down now and kill him myself.

Soon enough the Emperor was on board, and with no further ado he seized personal command of Relentless - stressing all the while that it was nothing personal, merely a wish to oversee matters more closely. “I will have their blood. Are there any objections to that?”

On the contrary, there was uproarious agreement among the bridge crew. Shouts of bloodlust and cries for rebel heads on platters filled the room - Kain in particular seemed to be quite thrilled by the prospect of taking out the rebels.

“Then the hunt begins. The Holy Guardian will not go without vengeance! They are ours.”

Relentless lurched out of the system, then on to Eridium, where they would check with Intel as to any leads on the rebels’ current position. Nebulid, thought Kain, will likely know how Intel goes about its business. He can use that information against us, planting all manner of red herrings and other nastiness. Oh well. It will only make the final act of my driving this knife into his chest all the more satisfying…



Joran Nebulid came on bridge to see Captain Msul’b glaring at him. “What in the galaxy have you done, Commander? The natives are threatening to shoot us down! Why did you have to parade your cyberbiomechanical parts in front of them? As it so happens to turn out, they are mortally afraid of such artificial bodies!”

“I’m planting false evidence. Captain Kain and his Relentless are no doubt in hot pursuit of our trail at the moment. I suggest we now jump out of the system and hover around there for a couple of hours, then jump back in at that ice planet over there.”

“Perhaps I just don’t understand the underlying principles of this strategy here. What should this accomplish, given our success at pulling whatever ruse is on here?”

“They were bound to find us eventually. Intel is a serious information machine. Everything filters down to them with time. If Intel discovers we’ve been here and left, they will without a doubt advise against Relentless popping in there to look for us. Wasteful of time and such. Do you not think so?”

Msul’b considered it for a short time. “You seem to have an acute understanding of how their search is going to work. I trust that you know what you are doing. Is that why you picked this particular system at first?”

“In fact, yes it is indeed. Good catch. Let’s just hope this works; I’m all out of ideas otherwise…”



A lurch, and Valour was parked just outside the system. They would wait an hour or two more, then jump back into the system, thus providing themselves a handy hole to hide in. Basically they were digging that hole, getting in, and pulling it in behind them afterwards. It was a handy trick.

In the meantime, an impromptu science lab had been manufactured for study of the new battlesuit model. Nebulid decided to drop in on the testing. “How goes it now?” he inquired of a battered old Liroid, who appeared to be in charge of the procedure.

“The Model AX seems to be a huge departure from previous Model A editions. Jet assembly maximum output seems greatly enhanced, but it seems to carry with it a slight problem. I would not be surprised to see a complete reissue in the near future over this one, in fact. It generates far too much heat. Ordinarily this would be no problem, but it seems that to decrease the suit’s mass for the greater thruster output power, they removed the largest of the suit’s three heat sink systems. Weaponry seems to have been standardized, too - there is no way any weapon but a beam scythe could fit in that sheath. Do you have any ideas?”

“Death,” he said. “In the most prominent Terran mythology, Death is represented by a skeletal figure wearing a long dark cloak and wielding a scythe. The connotations of this vary from subculture to subculture, but the image remains similar. See the body plates here, here and here? They look remarkably like the fringes of a cloak to me. And the head piece is a dead ringer for a hood. I would say we have a galaxy class case of imagery here. In fact I would go so far as to add an adjective to the Sentinel name to properly reflect that change in imagery. These are not Sentinel suits of the conventional type. These are Death Sentinels.”

“An interesting term. Simple, too - I have no doubt it could become prevalent soon.”

“And it allows us to distinguish ourselves more easily from them. I certainly have the idea that John McCarmack is turning in his grave over what has become of his military program. What our own Sentinels are doing brings some honour back to the centuries old term.”

The mobile troopers in the room all turned momentarily from their work, saluted Nebulid, and went immediately back to analysis.

“Let’s get back to the primary topic, then. Do you have any idea why it might be so bright, even in idle mode?”

“No. With your keen analytical skill and closer relation to the Terran mind than us, you should be able to figure it out, though. I can only but guess.”

“Keen analytical mind? That was all strictly guesswork, just supported by the facts and by history. But I can see this being employed as a scare tactic by Torsonnen. The bright colours could potentially be intended to inspire fear. What do you think of that?”

“My own guess was that it inspired fear by revealing their numbers. It could very well be both, or either, or even neither one. I thank you for your visit, Commander. It has been very revealing, a probable source of insight for one of our analysts some later time.”

“Thank you for allowing me to see the suit in the first place. I know how tight you like to be about these things initially. I will come back again.” With such a polite cap to the conversation, he could not help but smile on his way to the bridge.

His smile faded quickly as he heard the sudden announcement: “Commander Nebulid, to the bridge, please. This is a Level One Alert. Repeat, we are at a Level One Alert.” His walk became a run. Crewmen were forced out of his way as he rapidly approached the bridge. His first words once he was through the door were “I’ve been had, haven’t I?” He turned to face Captain Msul’b and saw from the look of consternation on the captain’s face that indeed he had not.

“No, I was being serious. We’re in full evasive right now. They have not launched fighters or mobile troopers, yet, though. They’re identifying as rebel. Should I--”

“Begging your pardon, Captain, but their ID is bullshit. Anybody should be able to recognize that ship as Relentless.” Into the comm he yelled “Hear this, Kain. Your days are numbered! No mere ID swap is going to fool a former Relentless officer…”

Tactical said “They’re launching fighters and mobile infantry, Captain.”

Msul’b added “What have you done now, Nebulid? They are now firing at us! However will your plan work with this turn of events? Please tell me what that was for.”

“It’s no use having your enemy stare you down like that anyway. Get us out of here right now! We can’t fight Relentless, not without an entire armada of these.” Seeing Tactical punch in orders, he said “Don’t launch anybody! We need to run right now. No fighting retreat, no valiant last stand, no nothing. Just run! On normal power, if necessary, until we get a solution for warping the hell out of here. Ops, I need a solution to the Outer Rim. Anywhere is fine, just get us out of civilization. Quickly! We have no time left!”

As Valour streaked away from the supercarrier, Captain Msul’b spoke. “You seem to be quite good at being afraid of that ship, Nebulid. Almost suicidally so… This is another one of those unfortunate instances where you just did not know enough to be able to make the right decision.” A lurch, and in record time they were at the Rim. “Take us to Darahn, now. As I was saying, Commander, we were about to create a small warp stream in their engineering section. They’d have been unable to move at all for at least ten hours after they found a way to clean up the mess. Perhaps we would have been lucky enough to send their entire warp assembly to Earth if our aim was true.”

“Shit! You were seriously about to do that? Aww, I can’t believe it. I would have been totally ready to do that at the drop of a hat! My apologies for turning us around.”

“It’s not a terrible problem. We’re out of there; that’s all that matters at the moment.”

“Kain will make sure we are not out of his grasp for long. I know him well. He knows me well. There is, ultimately, no place in the galaxy to which he cannot track us. All he needs is enough time.”

“Then we will just have to correct that, won’t we? Darahn seems suitably obscure for our purposes. It is another ice planet, so we should turn up invisible on their sensors. The only difficulty will be moving out if they do find us. In the meantime we can establish a base there, conduct operations from there, et cetera. We will be unstoppable.”

“Except if some lucky bloke figures out how to block the sudden appearance of a warp stream in his engineering section, in which case one of the most innovative weapons of all time goes to waste.”

“The problem is that it is all too easily blocked in the first place. It is a one shot deal. Once we use it the first time, they will immediately have it figured out. Soon enough, it will be useless.”

“And we just missed our best opportunity to use it, too. I can’t believe it!”

“Don’t berate yourself so much! It could have happened to anyone - you are not the only commander who has been misinformed in the past. Self derision will not help at all with the current situation.” His sentence was punctuated by a lurch.



Darahn was a very small planet that had somehow found its way into orbit around a red dwarf star near the Outer Rim. It had basically been found, named and then left along by the Federation for thousands of years. Therefore, it was the perfect hiding place for a ship that wanted to disappear off the face of the galaxy. Pity there’s nothing to breathe there. The planet was far too small to maintain an atmosphere of any kind, however thin. It would be necessary to create an artificial habitat for the people living there. Not a huge problem.

The main problem seemed to be getting off of the planet. It would be a perilous procedure, especially given Valour’s non predisposition towards travel in a sharp gravity well like that found on a planet. The alternative was keeping Valour in orbit and using shuttles to traverse between ship and surface, but then departure was just as difficult, for the shuttles could not carry more than a fraction of the crew at a time. Eventually it was decided that the ship would remain in orbit, as well as most of the crew. Only as many crewers as the shuttles could hold would be stationed on the planet at any given time. Personally Nebulid had no idea why they didn’t all just stay on the ship in orbit.

He voiced this, and the crew’s response to it seemed mostly favourable, but Msul’b put his foot down. “Perhaps I should explain why the planetside base is necessary. So be it then. Basically, we’re running low on resources. We would run out of energy for the life support systems in a month without the fuel on that planet down there.”

“Wasn’t the entire point of this to set up a base for raids? We could raid for resources, then retreat back here where they can’t possibly find us.”

“That is… a workable idea. Also somewhat of a surprise coming from you. You seemed to me to be more of the security loving, conservative type, not the type to strike out boldly like that.”

“I would take offense at that if it were not so true. I consider it less of a risk to us than the planetside base idea. We get to stay mobile. Harder to hit a moving target and all that.”

“Admitted. Let’s give it a whirl that way, then. If it proves unsuccessful, either we can come back here and make the base, or… or it will not really matter anyway.”

“At least we have one major accomplishment to claim for ourselves. The assassination of ‘Emperor’ Torsonnen is nothing to be ashamed of or hide away.”

“It’s decided, then. We’ll try it the Commander’s way first this time. Move out!”



Emperor Advira Torsonnen, having taken complete control by now over Relentless, as was his standard fashion in all matters relating to his surroundings, took a look at the galaxy map, trying to determine possible locations for Valour. It appeared they were somewhere in the Outer Rim, based on their warp vector. It also appeared that they believed him dead. Good. Perhaps we can use that to lure them into the open sometime. In the meantime it must be nurtured. Kain would be his figurehead then. He could have Kain “assume command” over the Empire in the wake of Torsonnen’s “death”, then manage the entire affair from behind the curtain, while his puppet drew all the much unwanted attention away from the fact that, indeed, Torsonnen did still walk the deck of Relentless and the deck of life. Excellent! I impress even myself sometimes! Now, if only we could get those foolish rebels into the open, it would all be complete…



The “foolish rebels” were doing some scheming of their own, mostly centred around a little planet near the Galactic Core called Hodanh. It was rich in natural resources, such as the radioactive cobalt they needed for their reactor, as well as iron to construct the base with (their current supplies could only build so much) should this life or raiding grow ineffective or otherwise turn sour. Let’s hope for all our sakes it doesn’t. Nebulid, for one, could not abide the thought of spending his life sitting idly, tending machinery, never really living at all. Let’s make sure these raids pay off.

He also began training himself at the other stations. You never knew when your Ops guy was going to have to take a break to relieve himself or something, and you wanted to be able to account for his absence in those times, otherwise if things got unexpectedly screwy you would be stuck there without an effective astrogator. Or if your Tactical specialist was suddenly struck by an unknown ailment in the heat of battle, you wanted to be able to keep shooting, however less effective it might be. The list went endlessly on. A commander couldn’t just be a commander. He had to be able to substitute for any of his downed crewmates. It did not matter whether the chief Tactical officer or the lowliest sub-navigation advisory position was suddenly vacant. The vacancy had to be filled, no matter the type or reason.

Other ships would have had a pool of backups for such an instance, but Valour, despite its general state of overstaffment, had no such pool for bridge crew (most of the extra people were in the engineering section). Commander Nebulid thought briefly of getting a bridge training session for other crew set up, but dismissed it on grounds of sheer unfeasibility. Besides, overstaffed or not, those people were every bit as important where they were as they would be on the bridge, especially the engineers making it possible to take the ship anywhere at all. He silently applauded them all, even the lowliest of them.

He was again reminded of them when a lurch announced their arrival at Hodanh.



Relentless was refuelling at Earth when Torsonnen heard the news: Valour had carried out a resource raid at Hodanh. They managed to pick up large quantities of reactor grade cobalt, as well as inordinate amounts of iron and carbon. Damn! I must not let myself lose sight of the threat they pose to “Kain’s” empire. They could easily be our undoing if we let them alone for long enough. With Nebulid probably came some plans for military devices, possibly Sentinel suits, even! I must track them down soon. This raid has certainly made its impression on me…

“Kain!” He called for his figurehead, who was just glad to be able to hunt down the traitor Joran Nebulid. “I want you to order a complete military lockdown of all resource planets. Keep it on the low down though. Let’s see if we can’t trap them.”

“Absolutely.” He hastened to his HoloComm station to relay the order to the fleet. Excellent! My plan will come to fruition sooner than expected… and I will see them writhe in the net.



“Excellent Our plan has come to fruition sooner than expected. My compliments on an excellent idea, Commander. I hope you find it in yourself to forgive my initial hesitance. I was in the wrong - perhaps we can continue aggressively rebelling even in the wake of the assassination.”

“It’s become even more personal for me now. Kain has got to be my most hated person of all time, next to Torsonnen himself, who’s dead anyway. Besides, I never actually met Torsonnen. I have had much experience with Kain’s tyranny.”

“Hah! Tyranny? Perhaps he was their best choice, after all! He seems so much like Torsonnen that they could be long lost twins.” Msul’b chuckled.

“Don’t think it has not been the subject of much speculation among Relentless crewers, especially the ones like me who wanted out in the worst way.”

“Some of them did get out in the worst way. Did you hear? Total staff changeover on Relentless. Most of the people replaced were simply spaced for no good reason.”

“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to find him, sometime, away from his invincible ship, and I’m going to take a knife and stick it in him, and I’m going to watch him die, slowly, and then I’m going to laugh at him. Then I’ll bring him back to life and do it all over again, and again, enough times to personally avenge every one of those poor people they spaced and their families.”

“Don’t go overboard here. Remember that he is out of reach at the moment. There will be a time for revenge, but do not blow it all now by acting too prematurely.”

I don’t want to wait! I can’t. The pressures are mounting inside me. They’re demanding action NOW. What am I to do, though? I can’t touch Relentless, that much is for sure. Perhaps another time the opportunity will arise… He resigned himself to waiting. I seem to be doing a lot of resignation lately. First my abandonment of the Empire for this rebellion, then leaving my home, then putting off all my exquisite revenge plots… How long will it have to be before I can plunge that knife in and hear him scream? How long until I make my brother realize his mistake?



Kain finished relaying the necessary orders, then returned to his Emperor’s staging room. Torsonnen himself was not there, having adjourned to his quarters for the time being. Nebulid will pay! His half human form will not continue to elude us for much longer. This will catch him, and when it does, I will show him the new true meaning of ‘cyber’. He will die! And when that is done, perhaps I can begin to purify all of mankind. It was all part of the master plan he had concocted over the long months since Nebulid’s flight from the service of his most illustrious Emperor Advira Torsonnen. Once the human race was all that remained in the galaxy, there would be nothing left to purify - nothing but the race itself. That, he thought, can be arranged.

And the anonymous voice that tended to drop in and out of his mind expressed its agreement. The purity of the race, after all, was always a very serious issue…



A half month passed without anything near or even somewhat resembling activity on the Torsonnen front or on the Darahn front. Basically the entire galaxy just sat and stagnated for two weeks. At long length, though, it was decided that the time was ripe for another resource raid, this time somewhere a bit closer to home to cut down on costs. Another Outer Rim world would be ideal - close, easy to hit, et cetera. The difficulty was finding a resource world in the Outer Rim worth their time. Most of them were basically one family planets with little personal businesses in the mining industry, trying to prove their worth to the Emperor in hopes of some kind of promotion or whatnot. Eventually they were forced to look back inward, closer to the Core. They came upon the idea of attacking Earth, but dismissed it just as quickly as it came, for all the obvious reasons and a few more - namely there was no poetry in it. However that point got in the discussion, no one may ever know, but it did, and it served to defeat Earth as a possibility. A half joking suggestion of Mars was also instantly rejected, for good reason. Tulsa Prime was eventually selected based on its resource stockpiles and its relatively undefended status.

The mission was planned out quickly over the next two hours. Nebulid suggested just coming in hard, but that was shot down quickly. Msul’b preferred a more stealthy approach, and Makhi agreed, so it was set. They would not blaze into Tulsa Prime, but rather creep in on their bellies and creep out. Leaving the Torsonnen fleet none the wiser… let’s hope it works as well this time as last.



Relentless was here to fill a hole. The hole was basically a missing ship not able to cover Tulsa Prime. Earth was more than well enough defended at the moment anyway, especially given its relative lack of resources remaining after millennia of exploitation by a hungry populace. Torsonnen was sure that a resource planet was going to be hit soon, though, and this one could be it.

I hope they come here, anyway, so I can watch them die personally. He turned to Kain. “Put us in idle, please.” Kain complied immediately. I like that man. He obeys me without question every time. I would be honoured to have that man as an heir. Of course, that could not be made official; certain circumstances tend to stand in the way of that, including this one. Perhaps after we crush those rebels, I’ll give it another thought. He could use a promotion.

Relentless immediately went into idle mode. All weapons systems remained at the ready, but propulsion was nearly nil, as well as sensors. It would take only five minutes to restart the ship in case of a raid, however. Torsonnen was pleased, for this was the case all over the galaxy at resource planets everywhere.

We have them exactly where we want them. It is only a matter of time before they turn up, wherever they do, and then they will pay for their crimes.



“Now preparing for final jump. Twenty seconds.” We have them right where we want them. Nebulid could not help but smile. They will pay in full for their crimes against the Federation! Against the galaxy.

A lurch, and the smile was immediately wiped from his face and replaced with a frown. They’d managed to drop out of warp right on top of a Torsonnen ship - supercarrier - Relentless. Aww shit, why’d my day have to become like this? “It’s Relentless! They’ve already started launching! We’ve been played. Let’s get the hell out of here! Go! Move!” Nobody moved. Nebulid was shocked to see a total lack of movement anywhere on the bridge, with one notable exception. “Lieutenant, what the hell is going on?” Surely the Krion would know.

It did. “It appears there is someone aboard that ship with psionic talent. Difficulty is, I can’t locate them yet. My guess is that they’re one of the bridge staff, however, based on how quickly they eliminated the crew. Can you pilot while I try to throw off the freeze that psionic Torsonnen crewer is placing on our crew?”

“Surprisingly, yes I can.” Glad to have taken the lessons he had, Nebulid eased himself into the helmsman’s seat, gently guiding its previous occupant to the floor. Trying to once more get a feel for the controls, Nebulid was rewarded with a slight lurch. They were moving - toward the supercarrier! Nebulid hurriedly countered the move, sending them violently the other way.

“It would be helpful if you could make the ride a bit smoother so that I can concentrate,” said the Krion second mate, still trying in vain to revive the astrogator. Good choice. The only two people we actually need to get out of here are the astrogator and the helmsman. Command staff take second priority to that. At the very least, they can be revived once we clear the zone anyway. Come on, damned controls! Respond! Again he was rewarded with a lurch. Damn you! Move smoothly! The device steadfastly refused to move the ship in any smooth manner. Nebulid growled.

“You are not helping with your erratic piloting. Please try to make it smoother if at all possible.”

“Cut me some slack! I just learned a week ago!” He punctuated the sentence with another shaky movement of the carrier. He was in luck - a plasma bolt came streaking by, missing barely. The hull took a little bit of heat damage, but otherwise no harm was done to Valour.

“What do you have to say to that? Huh?” Just try to rag on my piloting skills again, eh? I’ll show you! Valour made its shaky way towards the edge of the system, hotly pursued by a much more professionally piloted Relentless. I wonder what they’re making of this all over there? They must be laughing.

On the contrary, they were aghast. How in the heavens is that ship moving still? There’s not a way in hell it could possibly have enough crew to even run like that. There’s only two of them, both bridge crew, according to my gifted Number One! I’ll have my answers.

But of course Kain was not the skipper of this particular vessel any longer. He was a figurehead for Torsonnen, who was the real commander in this time. I hope his plan works… Nebulid must pay. Of course, they are doomed. “Launch the mobile troops.”



“Okay, this is not good. Relentless is spewing battlesuits. Let’s get our astrogator back in the land of the living, and quick!” We need to get out of here now. No choice. Just leave.

“I can’t revive him fast enough with your choppy flying! Try to get us under control!”

“I’m doing the best I can!” Valour continued to twitch side to side, but it was slightly less violent in its migrations. Come on, you steel brute! Bend to my will! I will--

--A plasma bolt grazed them. Nebulid could hear the computer squeal “Hull integrity compromised in Sector 8. Security doors closed and sealed. Repeat--”

“Quiet!” I need to concentrate! This beast is unresponsive enough already. Damn it!

“Looks like we lost one of our thrusters to the blast, too. God damn it all!”

“Good! Maybe you won’t bounce us around so much now! I can get some reviving done!”

Funny, thought Nebulid, then he returned to trying to elicit a response from Valour. “Their mobile troopers are closing in fast. I recommend you work a bit swifter, Lieutenant.”

It turned and faced him. “Shut the hell up and let me work! Lords, man.”

Nebulid went totally silent, stunned by the outburst. Alright, let’s see what this thing can do! He played with a few settings, netting a response mor favourable than earlier. Maybe if I can keep up these kind of less choppy maneuvers, Makhi can revive our astrogator.

For its part, Makhi was working without pause, trying approach after approach to the astrogator’s mind. It was not getting anywhere, however. None of the approaches it was taking were working. Lords Above, grant me this one request! All I ask is this one’s soul restored to its body! Applying its power, Makhi tried this time to forcibly rip apart the barrier keeping the astrogator in his comatose state. It felt something give way somewhere else. Good! Finally I’m getting somewhere! Now to locate the hole I’ve just created.

A cursory search pointed out the general area of the mind in which the block was in place. Good! We get closer at every step. But the mobile troopers approach, too. I must hurry and finish my diagnosis. Valour continued to barely dodge incoming plasma bolts, basically just because of the sheer dumb luck of Nebulid’s terrible piloting. Damn! To think that all that keeps us alive is that man’s ineptitude. I must rectify this situation. It had located the hole now. Now to get a figurative wedge. A false memory was quickly created for the purpose. Perfect. We will have this man’s mind back!

He stirred slowly, his senses returning to him. “What in the hell just happened to me? We appeared on top of Relentless, then nothing, then I just wake up? What is--”

Nebulid called back from the pilot’s seat “No time! We revived you first for a reason. I need a warp solution out of this system, and I need it yesterday.”

“Understood.” The astrogator lent all of his supreme calculatory skill to the task. The computer did all the dirty work for him, but the equations were all his.

“We will have optimal warp solution in around a minute, Commander.”

“I don’t want optimal solution! I want a solution NOW! Just get us the fucking hell out of here!”

“Understood.” He pulled a few switches, not bothering to refine the equations any further. A lurch, this time a blessing rather than a curse. “We made it. Problem is…”

“Oh good God, what could it possibly be this time?” Given the circumstances, it was not entirely unreasonable for Nebulid to expect the worst.

“Well, other than the fact that everyone seems to still be asleep, nothing. But that might be it.”