just another day in the office part 1 2 3 4 5 67 and 8 and epilog

[rakkety tam]

ok i have a story that i didnt write but my freind did and it has nothing to do with redwall here it is




Mornin', Fred."
"Mornin', Sam.  Ready for another exciting day of simulated space-based combat?"
"Sure!"  Sam stifled a yawn, sipped his grande mocha latte and asked, "hey - are we still in SIM mode?"
"Yup, Sammy.  Simming away as usual."

Sam sighed and put his coffee down on his standard-issue gray workstation desk.  SIM mode, which stood for Strategic Infrastructure Manufacturing, meant that this would likely be another boring day with not much action to be had.

Sam and Fred settled into their neighboring office chairs amidst the cubicle farm that was the local IGCBCS (Inter-Galactic Computer-Based Combat Systems) office in New Liberty, the capital of their planet Cestus III.  (This always struck Sam as a bit humorous since Cestus I and II were just uninhabited asteroid fields. Couldn't they just call it "Cestus"?)  Sam fired up his workstation and logged in to the IGCBCS system. He noted that the production, construction and research queues were still days away from finishing, and the long-range scanners were completely empty of movement.  Quite simply, there was a whole lot of nothing going on.

Sam checked the comm boards for the planetary guild and read through a variety of posts.  They included mundane discussions about the boredom of SIM mode, several cute captioned pictures of kittens, more than a few holo-pics of scantily-clad females of various species, and a couple of links to vid-clips of some band he'd never heard of.  Among these was only a single item of importance – a request from leadership to scout some known enemy systems.  So Sam dispatched a few scouts, noting they would take a few hours to reach their destinations.  That meant more "nothing to do" for a while.  He stretched in his chair.  "Hey, Fred.  You ever wonder about things?"

"Like what things, Sam?"
"Well, for one thing, all of us – I mean all the different planetary guilds – use the same exact ships and technologies.  Sure, some are stronger than others, but haven't you wondered why no one has invented something new or unique?  A 'game-changer' if you will?"

"Actually, I'm here for the easy paycheck, not the existential conversations.  I just do my job and go home."
"Seriously, Fred – surely you must have wondered once or twice about why we do what we do?"


Fred hated slow days at the office.  His queues were backed up for weeks and like Sam, his scanners were clear of traffic.  That meant he could expect long bouts of conversation with Sam.  He liked Sam, sure, but Fred was content being a punch-the-clock kind of guy.
"Sam, you need to read up on your history a bit more.  You know darn well that it's the IGT that dictates what we can and can't do."

The Inter-Galactic Treaty, signed centuries before, abolished all physical combat and decreed that all future conflicts would be resolved via computer-based combat simulations with strict boundaries and rules.  Each planet made up a "guild" and "fought" against or formed alliances with the others.  All within the universe of linked computer systems.

"Yeah, well the IGT is responsible for stifling creativity and shutting down progress then!  We haven't built anything military for centuries."
"And what would you need that for, Sam?  We're all on the IGCBCS now.  Plus centuries of peace courtesy of the IGT you so despise means you and I can go to our jobs in this lovely office without worrying about bombs falling on our head from orbit.  It didn't use to be that way you know.  What's so bad about that?"
"Well, for one thing, we've probably forgotten how to build those things by now."

"As if that matters!   Who would we use them against?  Every single populated planet in the galaxy signed the treaty..."

Sam sighed for a while, wondering if he should even mention what was running through his head at that moment.  Fred was a good fellow, a solid co-worker and sort-of friend.  But the next thing Sam wanted to discuss could – well, it could make Fred think he was nuts.  "What the heck?" he thought.
"Fred?  You know about the legend of the Drekons?"
"Sure, who doesn't?  It's always good for scaring the little Junior Space Scouts around a campfire.  Wait, you don't seriously believe –"
"Fred", Sam interrupted.  "There's a guy a couple blocks down on the corner of Astro and Empire every day – just outside the Starbuck's.  You seen him?  Sort of a crazy homeless dude?"
"Is he the guy with the signs and the fliers and stuff?  I don't get down there very often."
"Yeah.  He was always yelling things like 'The end is near, repent now!' and 'The Drekons are coming for YOU!' and stuff like that".
"I don't see what that has to do with –"

"Fred, I go to that coffee shop every morning on my way in to work.  I bet you didn't know his name – it's Jeremiah.  He used to work for IGCBCS - in this very building, in fact, and he was pretty high up in the leadership if he's to be believed.  Fred, he's been there on that corner every day for the past 11 years, that's how long I've been working here.  EVERY day, Fred.  Except now he's been gone for the last 3 days."
"So?  He's a crazy homeless dude!  He probably got drunk and thrown in jail or he died, he was kinda old you know."
"What if it's something else?  What if, just maybe he knew something?"

"And did what?  Hijacked a trade ship and took off for an empty gas giant?  Look, Sam.  I like you. You know that.  We work well together on ops and stuff.  But the 'legend of the Drekons' is just that – a legend.  There is no race of scary aliens who are going to come back with super-advanced weapons and terrorize everybody.  It's just a story.  Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some serious SIMming to do."

The rest of the day was uneventful. Sam's scouts found nothing unusual on the enemy jump gates, and the comm boards were fairly quiet.  Still, he couldn't shake a feeling of uneasiness and maybe even dread when he thought about the sudden disappearance of old Jeremiah.

At the end of the excruciatingly long day, they said their goodbyes and headed home.  As they headed out Fred shouted, "watch out for them Drekons, Sam!  They'll get ya!" which caused some chuckling and puzzled looks from the incoming B shift employees.

Later that night, Sam was awakened by a prolonged beeping.  It was in incoming comm marked urgent from Fred.  His curiosity piqued, he answered right away - it was highly unusual for Fred to contact him outside of work, let alone in the middle of the night.  If the guild was under attack or something, the night shift guys would deal with it.
"What's up, Fred?  It's 2 am!"
"I know, I'm sorry.  But this is important!  Listen, Sam.  You know my brother Barney, right?  The one who works at the spaceport?"

Sam rubbed his eyes.  "I suppose?  What's this about, Fred?"
"Listen, this is gonna sound weird but hear me out.  Barney works the night shift in Traffic Control, specifically he operates the long-range scanners."
"And?"

"I don't know how to say this, Sam... he just comm-ed me a few minutes ago, totally freaking out about something.  He said that he'd picked up a large, unidentified fleet on a direct course to us.  There are no trade ships due in tonight, so CestusGov sent out a scout to check it out."


Sam was suddenly wide awake.  This was without doubt the most interesting thing to happen on Cestus III in years.

"And?  What happened?  Who are they?"

Fred's voice began to shake a little.  "Look, Sam – it's like you said earlier.  Nobody has real ships any more.  At least not ships like these.  I can understand why Barney is freaking out!"
"Stay with me, Fred - what did the scout find out?"
"Sam, they blew it up!  Just like that, it was gone!  Before it was destroyed, it did a short-range scan and what it found is just crazy – crazy, I tell ya!  Readings off the scale – impossible numbers for propulsion, shielding, armor, and whatever energy source powered the weapons was unlike anything anyone has seen before!"

Sam's first thought, that Fred was making fun of him for their earlier conversation at work, left him as he realized that Fred was being completely serious – and he certainly sounded quite a bit frightened.  Could it be that crazy old Jeremiah was right all along?  After all: real military ships, with high-powered weapons?  Nobody had used those for centuries!  Who else could it be but the Drekons, coming back?
"This is nuts, Fred!  Are you sure Barney's not pulling your leg?"
"I wish, Sammy.  My neighbor's wife works C shift at IGCBCS and she just called to say they're being evacuated!  To where?  I didn't even know we had an evacuation plan!"

Sam did a poor job of disguising his sarcasm.  "That's 'cause we don't have one, Fred.  Why would we need one?  We also don't have any military ships or even a single defense turret because we don't need them either, right?"
"Sam, forget about that!  What are we gonna do?"
"How long did Barney say we had before whoever-they-are arrives?"
"He said around 45 minutes from when he spotted them.  But that was from before he called me, and he also called his wife, and my Mom & Dad in South Liberty first."
"[darn]!  That means we don't have much time!  Listen, Fred – you've got to get out of the city, it won't be safe in New Liberty.  We could head for the mountains, maybe meet up somew-"

Just then, the line went dead.  And the lights went out in Sam's neighborhood.  All of them.  A low rumble shook the house like a mild earthquake.  Sam stepped out into the street, as did several of his neighbors.  They were shielding their eyes and looking at a very bright light that suddenly shone in the west, towards the outskirts of the New Liberty metro area.  Looking through squinted eyes, Sam spotted an enormous mushroom cloud.  "Oh man, that's probably the Antimatter Plant going up!" Sam exclaimed.  "If I were an enemy, that's what I'd hit first too", he thought.
"What's happening?" asked Mrs. Miller, his next-door neighbor.

Before he could reply, a series of explosions echoed through the neighborhood, strong enough to rattle the windows.  They came from the opposite direction, east, towards downtown and the IGCBCS offices.  The high-pitched whine of stellar propulsion systems could be heard over the distant booms.

Was the Legend of the Drekons really true?  To erase any doubt, he spotted a squadron of what had to be Heavy Bombers fly by overhead.  Thankfully they didn't waste any of their payloads on his nondescript suburban area.

It was too late to try to get out of town, the bombardment was well under way and the power was out.  That meant his hovercar would be useless, since it got its power wirelessly from the AM plant like everyone else's.  The Antimatter Plant was probably a pile of glowing slag burning a hole through to the other side of Cestus III by now.  This was it; he was trapped in his own neighborhood.  As he gazed upon the glow of numerous fires burning among the downtown skyscrapers, he tried to remember if the stories about the Drekons included anything about them taking prisoners...

written bye shpilkus more to come post what u thought of it plz

[Coobreedan]

Wow, that was cool. Pleaaaase upload part 2! Please!

[Lily]

I just want to check... do you have your friend's permission to post their stories here?

[rakkety tam]

yes i do he doesnt want to be named so he is going by the handle of shpilkus

[rakkety tam]

ok heres part 2 hope u guys enjoy




JOURNAL OF SAMUEL T. ZUCKERMAN


Man, that sounds so lame. Nobody calls me "Samuel" except my Mom. And I haven't kept a journal since I was a kid and even then I didn't do it for very long. But with all that's happened since the Drekons arrived, I felt I'd better keep some sort of record. I'll start with today and see where this goes. It'll give me something to do anyway.


OCCUPATION OF CESTUS III, DAY 20

The title sums it up, we're living (if you can call it that) under occupation. The Drekons arrived just about 3 weeks ago and things have gone downhill fast. Best estimates are that over a million died the night of the invasion in New Liberty alone. And it didn't end there.


Once a day or so the Drekons go on a raid – usually in the larger cities, but it could be anywhere – and people die. New Liberty is a ghost town in ruins. Most folks – myself included – are pretty much holed up at home waiting for their food to run out. Power has been out since the night of the attack, and comms haven't come back up either.


Speaking of the attack, Joe Waxie from down the street claims to know someone who got a visual on the Antimatter Plant site. Or maybe heard from someone who heard from someone, I forget. Anyway, the rumor is that there is a crater several MILES deep in the ground where it used to be. That's not coming back online any time soon.


Anyway, what I can't figure out is: what do the Drekons want? No one that I know of has actually seen a Drekon or talked to one. Their ship – yes, there's only one that we know about – is parked on the front lawn of Parliament House in New Liberty. When it's not on a raid, that is. Anyone who has gotten too close has gotten dead pretty quickly. They don't communicate with us at all, so what's the deal with the daily raid? Why are they even here to begin with? What do they want from us?


That's enough for today, too depressing...


DAY 21

Ramen for dinner today. Again. Today's daily Drekon terror attack hit the west side of New Liberty again, we could hear the screams all the way out here in the 'burbs. Oh, did I mention that it's been confirmed that the IGCBCS building was destroyed the night of the initial attack? I can only imagine what might be happening online since we can no longer log in to the Inter-Galactic Computer-Based Combat Systems. We're probably getting hit hard. My fleet was parked on the [CSTS3] blob with everyone else's, but by now someone has probably crashed the jump gate. The first few days I had some serious withdrawal symptoms, actually getting agitated and nervous about the fate of my "space boats". With everything that's going on, that seems a bit silly now. Our planet has bigger problems than virtual combat, we've got real death and destruction.


It's not just me not going to work any more. Even though the raids seem to mostly target the planet's medium-to-large cities, it's not a given. They hit way out in Tiddleton last week, rumor has it. That place has what, 500 people in it? What kind of threat did the Drekons see there? Seems somewhat random to me. As a result of not knowing where the next attack might be, no one is going about their business any more. Everyone is holed up someplace, either at home or in a cave somewhere I guess. The planetary economy must be ruined. And the food is going to run out, it's just a matter of time. I've taken recently to scavenging the empty houses of my neighbors who have fled the area, and I am by far not the only one doing so. Thankfully I was able to store away enough canned goods to last a while if I stretch things. Good thing I have no kids to feed. And good thing I happen to like cold Spaghetti Ring-Os and Ramen noodle packets. Reminds me of my college days!


Like I mentioned, some of my neighbors are still around, and we talk. There is a lot of speculation and rumor. Like: there has got to be more than one Drekon ship. They certainly brought more the night of the invasion! Where did they all go? Surely they are not holding this occupation with a single fighter! Most folks figure that they're being cautious and keeping the bulk of their fleet in orbit. We can't tell because there's no power and no way to fire up the scanners.


I don't know why they would need to be cautious though, it's not like we can fight back. Oh, we've tried. Our police and security personnel have lost many people trying to hit that ship with projectile guns, flamethrowers, lasers, and even sharp pointy sticks at one point. One guy got close enough to attach an explosive charge. Nothing they tried even made as much as a dent in the armor. And those who tried were vaporized. It's not a surprise; the weapons on that thing are powerful enough to level buildings in one shot. Which they have done on many occasions, I might add. On that happy note, time for bed, the light is fading fast.




DAY 23

You're not going to believe this! (I'm talking to my journal like it's a person, I must be going crazy). Someone over in Freetown managed to fire up the old Solar Plant! We must be tied to the same grid, because guess what? My freaking alarm clock woke me up yesterday morning! Can you believe that? Scared the bad stuff outta me. But then I did my happy dance, because it meant that the power was back! Well, sort of. It's not on all the time, and it's not what you'd call reliable. It doesn't work at all at night, I guess the capacitors at the Solar Plant are shot. Not a surprise, given that it hasn't been maintained for years since we built the vastly more efficient Antimatter Plant (which is now a giant crater). But this is the best news we've had since the invasion, or D-Day as I'm calling it (D for Drekons of course).


I didn't write yesterday because of the other good thing that happened. I ran into a guy who also used to work at IGCBCS, and he told me that he heard that the DRF (Data Repository Facility) in Fairmount is untouched. That means that – in theory – there is a backup of the IGCBCS systems as of the night of the attack. That's the good news. The bad news is we can't get to it. First of all, Fairmount is 2500 miles away. Secondly, the DRF was kept in an underground vault with its own power supply, but no facilities for staff whatsoever. Nobody actually worked there, everything was done remotely. So it's entirely isolated from the people who need it. Who thought up this backup plan? Geez! With the comms down and power unreliable we can't connect. Yet. I have an idea, and I'm gonna try it tomorrow if the power stays on long enough...


DAY 24

EUREKA! I actually managed to connect to the DRF facility and log into the IGCBCS system! Let me back up a bit first.


I had this idea that maybe the wireless comm systems weren't totally wiped out like the land-lines were. Most of the towers have backup power of their own, and the Drekons seem to be targeting people and not infrastructure when they raid. The tower in our neighborhood is still standing and the little blinker at the top is still blinking every night. So I used the opportunity this morning when we had power from the Solar Plant and charged up my mobile. Sure enough, I was able to use it! The first thing I did was try to contact Fred. No luck. I wasn't expecting it really.


About Fred. A few days after the invasion I biked into New Liberty – scared witless! - and went to Fred's house. He wasn't there. Nor were any of his neighbors. But the house looked empty, not burglarized or anything. And his street looked unscathed; I guess the Drekons haven't hit his neighborhood yet. I really hope he got away to someplace safe. If there is such a place.


Speaking of the damned Drekons: another question we all have is why are they apparently on a schedule? They attack roughly every 24 hours, sometimes a little longer between raids, but never – ever – less. In fact, they've never attacked twice in a single 24-hour period, starting with the night of the invasion. Do they need to recharge or something? Some folks have been getting bolder and are going scavenging right after a raid. And so far none of them have died. Interesting...


Anyway, back to the wireless thing. After a lot of effort, and routing the connection halfway around the world, I managed a weak but stable connection to the DRF. The connection was so slow it was almost unusable. It made me miss my old work terminal again. But hey, I had nothing better to do, right?


So anyway, I logged into the system and found something unexpected. Actually several unexpected things. Firstly, and most important, my mobile fleet was still alive! And so is most of the guild, still sitting there on the blob. Wow, I thought for sure we'd be debris by now. The other thing is, I'm not the only one who managed to log in. Some guy in [CSTS3] going by the handle of "Speedy" managed to connect yesterday and moved his fleet off the blob. I've sent him a message to find out more about how he managed to connect and what life is like where he's at. Hopefully he'll be able to log in again and write back.


I sent some private messages to folks I know in other guilds letting them know what's happening to Cestus III, and most of the responses were the same. They were shocked. They were outraged. They were sympathetic. But they can't assist us. No one has any "real" military ships that could help us. I expected that answer but I had to try. It felt good to be able to log in to the IGCBCS again, even if it was painfully slow, and only for a short while. Who'd have thought I actually missed work?

DAY 27

Sorry I haven't written lately. The comms have been improving, but our online situation has hit rock bottom. Remember those PMs I sent the other day? Well, somehow our real-life situation leaked out to the folks on Vendakar and their good buddies on Eminiar 7. And they teamed up to hit us – HARD. The mobile fleet I had the other day? It's gone. As is pretty much everyone else's in the guild. The balance of power online has now changed dramatically. Our fleet numbers and level dropped tremendously. Or, to put it another way, we're screwed both online and in real life. I was naive to think that posting for help with our real-world situation would accomplish anything. All it did was help destroy our guild's hard-fought position online.


Meh, I'm sure it would have happened anyway, with most of our guild showing the "inactive" tag. Somebody would have crushed us eventually. I just wish it wasn't those losers from [VNDKR] and [EMNR7]. I hate those guys! If we ever get through this, I will personally lead [CSTS3] in a revenge op. That's almost enough motivation to keep on living! Ha!


No word from "Speedy" yet, but whoever they are they now have the largest fleet in [CSTS3]. Hope they moved it someplace safe, or sent it on a really really long trip...


DAY 29

What a day. The Drekons did their daily thing again. Only this time they raided the temporary capitol complex in South Liberty. The news from down there is that President Julatsa is dead. She was in an underground command center but they blew it up along with everything above ground for six blocks in all directions, or so the story goes. Vice President Batte was sworn in and taken away to an "undisclosed location". That makes me feel safer already. Not!


In other news, Joe Waxie told me today he's heard about a "resistance movement", and asked if I would join it if he did. I told him I was interested, as long as it didn't involve going anywhere near New Liberty and that blasted Drekon ship.




DAY 30

Get this: the "resistance" is holding a meeting at West Liberty High School tomorrow. A meeting! My first thought was that we shouldn't congregate in one area and give the Drekons a juicy target. But these guys had apparently thought of that. The meeting time is listed as "2 hours after the Drekon raid". Interesting! Since the Drekons have been keeping to their approximate 24-hour schedule, I suppose it's probably safe to go. Heck, even old lady Trillian was out working on her vegetable garden yesterday 10 minutes after the Drekon ship came back from its raid! What have I got to lose? (I probably shouldn't ask that).


DAY 31

"Hope". That's a word I haven't used for a while. But I have some now. The meeting was *amazing*! Well, parts of it were. Mostly it was a lot of shouting, arguing and some crying. But there was a good part – maybe a great part.


The speaker – some kid named Eli – went on about how there is a planet-wide movement to come up with a way to counter the Drekons and return us to some sort of normal. Of course, he had no specifics he could give us, which made a few folks walk right out of the meeting. I stayed though. And boy am I glad I did!


Eli mentioned that the movement has a leader. A man he called "J". a man who used to work for IGCBCS, claims to have "seen this coming" for years, and tried to warn us. Seriously? Could it be crazy old Jeremiah? This is supposed to give me confidence in the resistance movement? A crazy homeless dude is the leader, great – we're saved! (That was sarcasm, it doesn't come out well in journal entries though.)


So anyway, I hung out after the meeting and waited to talk to Eli alone. I asked him if I could meet this mysterious "J" and he said no way, too dangerous. I mentioned my suspicion that I knew the guy, and that I too was an IGCBCS employee (or ex-employee anyway). He still seemed reluctant to give out any more info. What convinced him was when I told him about how I used to talk to a man named Jeremiah outside Starbuck's in the morning before work. His eyes lit up. "You're the guy from the coffee shop?" Apparently Jeremiah (assuming that's who "J" is, and I'm 99% sure) remembered me and told Eli about it! And he's been wanting to get in touch with me.


So, Journal, it may be a few days before I write to you again. Eli has agreed to take me to meet "J", but it's several days' hike from here. But for the first time in over a month, I have hope. I don't know what meeting with crazy old Jeremiah and his "resistance movement" will accomplish, but I feel like I have a little bit of a purpose now. I'll write again as soon as I can!


TO BE CONTINUED...

[rakkety tam]

"Why do I have to wear this stupid thing?"  Sam exclaimed, for probably the tenth time since they left camp that morning.

"Because until 'J' vouches for you, we can't take any chances", Eli replied.

"What, you think I'm working for the Drekons?"

"No, Sam – but the resistance is vulnerable.  The less folks that know where we are based, the safer we'll all be.  Besides, we're only about a half-mile away, so just hang on for a few more minutes and we'll be there."

Sam and Eli had left the suburbs of New Liberty 3 days prior, after a town meeting at the local high school.  Eli introduced the citizens to the idea of a planet-wide resistance movement against the Drekon occupation.  Sam spent most of the 3 days pumping Eli for more information about the mysterious "J", leader of the resistance.  Sam was 99% sure that "J" was really old crazy Jeremiah from the street corner, but Eli was not forthcoming with any information.  That was very frustrating for Sam, almost as frustrating as the blindfold he'd been made to wear since breakfast.  It was hot out here – wherever "here" was.  Sam thought he could smell the ocean, maybe they were near the coast?

A short time later the atmosphere changed from hot & sunny to dark, cool and damp.  "You can remove the blindfold now, we're here", Eli said.

Sam blinked and looked around.  They were apparently in a cave.  And there was nothing in it.  "This is it?  An empty cave?  We hiked 3 days for this?"

"Wait here", Eli replied.  He walked to the back of the cave and disappeared behind a rock formation.  Sam was momentarily startled.  Unless you knew exactly where to look, the back of the cave looked unbroken.  Apparently this cave had multiple chambers, cleverly concealed.  Sam was almost impressed.

"Sam?  Is that you?" a deep voice echoed out a few minutes later.  And there he was, emerging from the back of the cave: Jeremiah.  No longer dressed in rags, and no longer sporting a long, unkempt beard.  But it was crazy old Jeremiah for sure.

Jeremiah clasped Sam's right hand in both of his, and smiled warmly.  "I'm so glad you made it!  I was hoping you'd survived the attacks."

"Um, yeah.  Me too.  So you're the leader of the resistance now?  You're the same guy from the street corner outside Starbuck's?  I mean, 6 weeks ago you were yelling that "The Drekons are coming!" and handing out pamphlets and now –"

Jeremiah put his hand up.  "Yes, that's all true, Sam.  But there's much more to the story, as I'm sure you've guessed by now".  Jeremiah put his hand on Sam's shoulder.  "Come!  Let's go into the 'office' and chat a while".

Sam was led to the back of the cave and around the rock formation to an archway that led to an even larger chamber.  This room was abuzz with activity – there were lights, workstations with terminals, comm equipment, generators, and people.  Probably 2-3 dozen folks were milling about doing various things.  It looked kind of like an office after all.


Jeremiah led Sam to a desk and showed him to a seat.  "Where do I begin?" he asked with his eyes pointed towards the roof of the cave.  "At the beginning, I suppose", he answered himself.

"As you know, I used to work for IGCBCS.  At one point I was vice Guild Leader for 'A' shift – bet you didn't know that!"

Sam was genuinely surprised.  Jeremiah had said he was high up in the leadership, but Sam never thought he meant that high up.  "No, I didn't know that.  Go on."

Jeremiah clasped his hands.  "Well, this situation we're in with the Drekons.  Let's just say it's not news.  It's happened before.  Just not here on Cestus 3.  During my time with IGCBCS I noted some 'irregularities' in the online universe."

"What kind of irregularities?"

"Well, seeing as how you're a long-time employee of IGCBCS – and a good one - you know very well how things work in the universe we log into each day.  When an individual is no longer employed by their guild, they get the "inactive" tag and they're free game for the rest of us, right?" Jeremiah asked.

"Sure, but what has that got to do with the Drekons?" Sam replied.

"Imagine entire guilds going inactive all at once – and never coming back!  That's what started happening, 15 years ago.  Working with some contacts I had on other planets, we pieced together that someone – or something – was causing these smaller guilds to disappear from the universe forever."

"Where did they go?  Maybe their comm systems or terminals went offline for a while..."  Sam mused.

"No, Sam.  They weren't gone for a while, or had to restart their online guild – they just plain never returned.  A few people from those guilds managed to send some PMs to others outside their guild, including myself.  Those private messages spoke of attacks – in real life, not the IGCBCS system!  Attacks with real military ships possessing unbelievable power, armor, and shielding.  By a group calling themselves "The Drekons".  Sound familiar yet?"

Sam looked at Jeremiah with amazement in his eyes.  "How can this be?  I worked for IGCBCS for 11 years and never heard of anything like this!"

"Of course not, Sam!  When I brought this knowledge to the Guild leaders they dismissed it.  They said I was meddling in affairs that didn't concern [CSTS3].  They told me to drop it immediately or face consequences!"  Jeremiah leaned forward.  "But I didn't drop it.  People were dying - for real, not in cyberspace!  So I took the data I'd collected, the messages, and went to the government.  That was my fatal mistake."  A frown came over Jeremiah's face as he leaned back in his chair.

"How so?" asked Sam.

"The government didn't want to consider the possibility that I was right, and that there was a real threat out there.  You see, Sam, things here on Cestus 3 were going really well for centuries.  The economy was prospering – not having to spend any money on a military or defense will do that!  The last thing the government wanted was word to get out that there might be some threat out there that they couldn't handle.  People would have panicked and demanded a response!   So they confiscated all my materials and showed me the door.  They discredited my reputation at IGCBCS, telling everyone that the stress of so many years of virtual combat had gotten to me and I had a breakdown."

Sam was having difficulty processing this information.  "So you're telling me that for years entire planetary guilds have been quietly disappearing from the IGCBCS – and our guild leadership knew about it - and no one did or said anything?"

"That's right, Sam.  Only now it's become our problem because the Drekons finally got around to us!"

"So why did you become 'crazy-homeless-dude-on-the-streetcorner'?  Wasn't there a better way to get the word out?"

"Who would have believed me?  And I wasn't homeless, Sam.  I worked the street near the main HQ for IGCBCS, trying to spread the news to the folks who worked there - including you, I might add.  But that was my 'day job'.  At night I spent countless hours organizing what has become this resistance movement, and getting ready for the inevitable.  I stocked up on generators, camping supplies, food, you know - the 'survival nut' stuff."

"I still don't get it.  You could have gone to the press, the 'net, the vid stations..."

"Remember what you thought of me until today, Sam?  How did you put it?  I was a 'crazy homeless dude'?  I tried to warn you, yes I did!  But you and your fellow IGCBCS workers were too busy playing with your pretend 'space boats' to see the truth about what was happening in real life!"  Jeremiah's fist banged the table at the end of the sentence, startling some of the other resistance members as the sound echoed through the cave.  He took a deep breath and calmed down before proceeding.

"Sam, remember also that my reputation was thoroughly destroyed both with the government and IGCBCS.  The vid stations would never have run a story on me.  No, the media would never have taken this seriously.  So I worked by night and preached by day hoping others would listen.  And some did, Sam – look around you!  This is one of 4 cells planet-wide, working together to organize a resistance to the Drekons.  We have people, supplies, everything!"

"Well, do you have a way to beat the Drekons?" Sam asked.

"Not yet, Sam."  He waved a finger.  "But we're getting there.  I want to show you something."  Jeremiah motioned to a man working on a computer several desks away.  "Mister Prespa!  Could you bring that file over here for a moment?"

The man immediately came over and shook Sam's hand.  "You must be Sam!  Pleased to meet you!  The name's John Prespa, but everybody calls me 'Johnny Drama'."

No explanation for that nickname forthcoming, Jeremiah took the folder and said "thank you, Johnny, that'll be all.  Sam – take a look at this."  Jeremiah handed over the folder which contained a single 3D holopic.

"What is this, exactly?" Sam inquired.

"You're looking at perhaps the very last ship ever produced by the New Liberty Shipyards.  That Corvette rolled off the assembly line around 475 years ago, right around the time the Inter-Galactic Treaty was signed by Cestus 3."

"Is this for real?  It looks just like those 3D images of the corvette in the IGCBCS system!"  The 3D picture showed a huge, clear rectangular display case, probably made of transparent aluminum.  It contained a small one-man craft mounted on a pedestal.  And it looked exactly like the online version did.

"Yes, Sam.  It's real.  It's housed in the Museum of Antique Warfare way down in Atlantis."



"The what?  I've never heard of that place!  We have a 'Museum of Antique Warfare'?"  Sam was more than a bit surprised by this news.

"Yes, Sam.  They are a small non-profit group that maintains some artifacts from before the IGT era.  They're not well-publicized and the government barely tolerates them.  I'm sure our leadership wanted folks to think happy thoughts, and not be reminded of those darker times.  There were even those in the Julatsa administration – may she rest in peace, I heard about the attack on the Capitol – who wanted to shut it down and destroy any evidence that those dark days ever happened. As such, the museum was purposely located way, way down on the Southern Continent away from any large cities.  And it was never promoted or advertised, really.  It got only a few hundred visitors a year, if that.  But this may work to our advantage!"

"How?"  Sam was having a hard time digesting all this information.  "And where do I fit in to all this?" he gestured with his hands, indicating the cave and all the activity in it.  "What can I possibly do?"

"Whoa, Sam.  Slow down, that's a lot of questions at once.  Firstly – we are planning an expedition to Atlantis to examine this Corvette in the hopes that we might be able to learn something useful from it.  Something we can maybe use to fight the Drekons.  I've seen the reports - nothing we've thrown at them so far has made a dent in the armor of that blasted ship.  The nerve of them, parking it right on the front lawn of Parliament House!  The Corvette was a fighting ship, the last of her kind.  I think she may yet have something to tell us!"

"Atlantis is like 5000 miles away, isn't it?  How will you get there with the power grid unreliable?"

"6,350 miles or so, believe it or not.  By water, anyway.  And that's how we're going to go.  We've got a ship, Sam – the S.S. Alyra.  She's a beauty!  And more importantly she's got her own mini-Fusion plant onboard.  That means she's off the grid, so to speak".

"So a 6,350-mile sea voyage to a museum to look at a 475-year old ship.  This sounds great, and all, but again – where do I fit in?  I'm just an IGCBCS drone!"

Jeremiah smiled.  "Oh, you're much more than that, Sam!  You just don't know it yet.  For now, I need you to keep on connecting to the IGCBCS and do what you can to make sure our guild doesn't get wiped out in cyberspace - while we work on keeping it alive in the real world.  And I want you to come with us to Atlantis.  We may need your help looking at the computer systems on the Corvette.  Most importantly, you've shown remarkable 'outside-the-box' thinking for an 'IGCBCS drone' and I want you on my team."  Jeremiah rose and stretched out his hand.  Sam stood and slowly took it, a look of bewilderment still on his face.

"I've got no better offers at the moment, Jeremiah. So yes, I'll go with you to Atlantis.  I can't guarantee I'll be of any help but I'm willing to try.  But what if the Drekons spot us?"

"No guarantees on that, Sam".  Jeremiah lowered his voice and motioned to the chair, and they both sat back down.  "But their pattern of attack seems to be striking at populated areas.  Places where there are large numbers of people - and witnesses.  Does that seem strange to you, Sam?  To me, it seems like they are waging a psychological campaign against our people – and they're winning.  Everyone is frightened and they've barricaded themselves at home or a cave like this one, Sam.  So the Drekons can keep people from organizing and fighting back by their daily terror attack – it's simple intimidation.  But hitting a small boat on the open sea with a dozen people on board isn't going to help that goal.  It's too small of a target – and if they hit us, no one would know about it".

"We'd know about it, and then we'd be dead..." Sam mused sardonically.

"Think, Sam!  Where have they hit?  Mostly large cities, or places where large numbers have gathered.  In fact, we've analyzed their daily 'pillages' and according to the data, 80% of the attacks have been in and around New Liberty.  We still don't know why they only attack once every 24 hours, but it's information we can use to our advantage.  The odds that they would take notice of our little boat and waste a daily pillage on us is remote.  It's a chance worth taking, anyway - don't you agree?"

"I suppose you're right.  I mean, it's just as likely they would attack my neighborhood one day and I'd end up dead inside my home.  So, hey - why not die trying to accomplish something?"  Sam forced a smile.

"That's the spirit, m'boy!" Jeremiah rose and clapped Sam on the back.  "Let's get you introduced to the other members of the team, and then get you to a terminal so you can log into the IGCBCS and save our planet – er, 'virtually' that is.  Then we'll get you a hot meal and a warm bed, and tomorrow you can start saving the planet with us for real!  We set sail in the morning."

"So soon?" asked Sam.

Jeremiah looked serious.  "With every day that goes by, more of our people die in the Drekon pillage attacks.  There's no time to be wasted, Sam.  We leave at dawn tomorrow for Atlantis!"

TO BE CONTINUED..

[rakkety tam]

"Ahhh." Sam sighed contentedly. "It feels like forever since I've enjoyed one of these!".

"Glad you are enjoying it, Sam. There aren't that many left, so we only break them out for special occasions."

"I'm honored, then! Cheers!" Sam thrust his can outward and then took another long sip of his OtraCerveza, relishing the taste and texture he hadn't experienced in many weeks. Otra was pretty much the best beer out there, too. Their catchy slogan, "it's always time for an OtraCerveza!" was a pun in itself, as "otra cerveza" literally meant "another beer" in one of the languages spoken on their planet Cestus 3.

The Alyra left port earlier that day, on a voyage to Atlantis on the Southern Continent. At top cruising speed of around 45 knots (with calm seas and good weather, never a given on the Great Sea) the mini fusion plant-powered vessel would make the 6,350-mile journey in just over 5 days. Sam had to admit he was enjoying the voyage so far; the fresh breeze and salty air, the warm sun, and the good company all re-invigorated him. It sure beat being holed up at home alone in the dark eating cold Spaghetti Ring-o's out of the can, while hoping the Drekons didn't choose that day to strike his suburban neighborhood. That described Sam's life up until 5 days ago.

"Finish that up so we can get back to work. We need to get you logged in again." Nika, the resistance cell's young Comms specialist, was working with Sam on accessing the IGCBCS system from aboard the Alyra. So far, it seemed the Drekons had left the comm satellites alone, but the central routing and switching points for the planet-wide network were destroyed in the initial assault on the capital city of New Liberty. Nika was trying some unorthodox methods of routing around the down systems. She needed to get very creative with some of the secure data transfer points so Sam could connect to the Data Repository Facility in Fairmount. The DRF was an unmanned remote backup facility of the HQ building Sam used to work in. A building destroyed by the Drekons on the night of the invasion. Being on a moving ship made Nika's task all the more difficult.

The Alyra was carrying a motley crew of 12 including Sam. Introductions that morning were brief and Sam hadn't quite gotten around to talking with all of the other expedition members yet. On board besides Sam and Nika were:

> Jeremiah, the leader of the resistance
> Brent Ward and Peter Mjin, engineers
> Juan Obi, logistics
> Midori Yuki, medical
> Dace Reddy, navigation; he shook Sam's hand as they boarded and took great pleasure in telling him "when you're ready to go, you'll need Reddy to get there!"
> Nalle Bardolf, historian
> "Ace", pilot of a trade ship from the Spaceport at New Liberty (Sam had no idea what his real name might be, everyone simply called him "Ace")
> "The Chief", security – a strange fellow who always seemed to refer to himself in the third person. No one seemed to know his real name either.
> The captain of the Alyra, P.J. Nath



Together they were headed to the Museum of Antique Warfare in Atlantis, to view an ancient relic of the dark days before the Intergalactic Treaty was signed. It was hoped that the antique Corvette housed there would yield some clues as to how to defeat the Drekon occupation. Fortunately, the museum was located directly on the boardwalk in a sheltered harbor, so they could literally sail right up to it and walk inside. Then the Engineers could earn their keep trying to unravel any secrets the ancient fighting ship might be willing to give up. But that was several days away yet.

Sam re-focused on the task at hand, which was to do his best to keep the planetary guild alive and well in the online universe. "Nika, tell me something. Is there a resistance member who goes by the handle of 'Speedy'?"

"Is he the user you messaged when you connected with your mobile? I still can't believe you got that to work from inside the D.I.Z. - that's amazing!" Nika shook her head in wonderment. The "D.I.Z." was what most of the resistance members were calling the Greater New Liberty Metropolitan area, the largest population center on the planet. Or more precisely, the formerly-largest population center on the planet thanks to the Drekons. "D.I.Z." stood for "Drekon Invasion Zone". And it was currently the most dangerous place on Cestus 3.

"Someday I'll tell you that tale... but in the meantime I was wondering how he was able to log in to the IGCBCS."

"Well, rest easy - Speedy's one of us. But not in this cell, he is based way over in Britannia. I haven't spoken to him, so I have no idea how he got in. It's worth finding out how he did it though – comms are still pretty messed up all over the place." As if on cue, en error message appeared on Nika's screen, indicating her last attempt had timed out. "Which is making this very frustrating!"

She was about to enter a new algorithm on her terminal when her mobile went off. It filled the deck with the sound of screeching death-metal music, complete with over-the-top screaming vocals that made Sam wince and plug his ears.

After listening for a few moments, Nika simply said "thanks" to the caller and terminated the comm. Turning to Sam, she said "that was HQ. The Drekons just got back from their daily slaughter run."

"Where did they hit today?" Sam hoped his neighborhood had been spared; there were still some of his neighbors living there who hadn't fled for other areas of the planet.

"Drakesh", she replied sadly. Looking at her watch she continued, "right on schedule too". Drakesh was a populous suburb about 10 miles north of New Liberty, meaning that the Drekons were still keeping to their bizarre practice of striking no more than once per 24-hour period, but hitting hard in places with large populations.

"That's too bad, it's a nice area. Or it used to be", Sam noted. "Soon there won't be anything left around New Liberty for them to hit." This was a depressing thought indeed. Changing gears, Sam asked "say, what the heck was that horrible noise?", pointing to Nika's mobile.

Nika smiled. "What, my ringtone? Why, it's only the latest and greatest from my fave band, 'Cowbells in Space'. I downloaded it the day of the attack, in fact. It's their new song 'Mustakraken'. Well, unless things change it'll probably be their last song..." she said somberly.

"I'm getting too old, it just sounded like noise and screaming to me." Sam mused.

"What kind of music do you listen to?" asked Nika.

"Well, I like the classics, I guess. You know - Shame, The Machine, Badboy, Teaspoon... stuff like that."

"Wow, you are old!" Nika retorted with a wide grin.

"Thanks a lot, you little whippersnapper, you! Now let's get to work before I drop dead of old age right here on the deck!"

The new algorithm worked, and after some adjustments to the antenna and comms equipment on the ship, Nika got Sam a more or less stable connection to the DRF. Once logged in, Sam found pretty much what he expected to find: most of the guild's fleets were wiped out, and many bases were under occupation by various guilds. "Vultures!" Sam muttered. There wasn't a lot he could do except set his own queues for production and construction, hide his credits in dummy research and make sure his remaining fleet – which wasn't much – was located over his bases for maximum defensibility. He could possibly free some of his guildmate's occupied bases; he'd have to run some calculations later to be sure.

There was still no message from 'Speedy', so he sent a follow-up, letting Speedy know about his new position with the resistance. Speedy was just about the only one who got his fleet mobile before the jump gate was attacked by [VNDKR] and [EMNR7]. Those guilds worked together to slaughter the helpless fleets of [CSTS3]. With all users in the guild offline, it was like taking candy from a baby, Sam thought.

Crafting a carefully-worded message, Sam sent a warning to friendly contacts in other guilds about what happened with the Drekons. In light of what Jeremiah told him about this happening before to other guilds, surely no one in the galaxy was safe. People needed to be warned about the real threat that was lurking out there - just because Cestus 3 was asleep at the switch didn't mean other planets had to suffer the same fate.

In the message was also a plea for assistance in the form of temporary NAPs, or Non-Aggression Pacts. Sam worked to set up NAPs with as many guilds as possible, to give [CSTS3] a fighting chance to stay alive. As far as he knew he might very well be the highest-ranking guild representative still alive and able to log in. None of the leadership had been online since the initial invasion, so he felt justified making the diplomatic requests. It was probably a losing cause, but certainly worth a shot.

The rest of the day was uneventful, except for a few random comm dropouts that Nika promptly corrected. "She may be young, but she's very good!, thought Sam. He was able to free 3 of his own occupied bases, but 2 were promptly re-taken an hour later. He decided not to waste any more fleet on that for now.

After a delicious hot meal prepared by Mr. Obi (apparently "logistics" included "cook"), Sam retired to his bunk and let the waves gently rock him to sleep, his spirits higher than they'd been since the Drekon invasion.

The next day, Sam finally received a reply from Speedy. And it was chock-full of information. Throughout the day Sam maintained a conversation via IGCBCS messaging with Speedy.



=============================

From [CSTS3] Speedy Reply - Block Player - Report - Copy Savebox


Sam! Boy am I glad to hear from you! Sorry I haven't written sooner, the comms are still very shaky here. Since New Liberty was hit we've been cut off from both IGCBCS and the government. Most of the comms and a lot of the power were routed through N.L., so as you can imagine it's been chaos over here. We're not getting news very often, and when we do it's hard to tell what's fact and what's rumour.

The power is unreliable – we've got an old Fusion plant running but it can't nearly keep up with demand. There were riots the day after the attack, and all the grocery stores were cleaned out and/or looted. Everyone is either holed up at home, or they ran off for the rural areas. There have only been 2 attacks in Britannia since the invasion, which is good I suppose.

Anyhow, after not being able to get into the IGCBCS via land lines, I tried a different approach. I remembered about the DRF, and figured if I could get to it I might be able to log in. Using my not-inconsiderable hacking and scripting talents (I'm so modest, aren't I?), I was able to connect every once in a while over the civilian wireless systems. So far it looks like just you and me in here. Sorry about your fleet, that sucks. I sent mine on a 1000-hour journey to buy some time. Fleet can be rebuilt; planets, however, are harder...

Tell me more about the mission you're on if you can. We could sure use some info – and hope - over here.

Speedy

===============

To [CSTS3] Speedy Msg - Copy Savebox

Speedy,

I'm so glad you got my messages and could respond. Where do I begin?

Firstly, the reason you can't connect to the IGCBCS over land-line is because:

1) the central planetary comm network switches and routers in New Liberty were wiped out and

2) the Drekons hit the IGCBCS HQ building on the night of the invasion. It's gone, sorry. I'm just glad it didn't happen during my shift there...

I'd tell you more about the expedition we're on, but I'm not in charge and don't know how much I can share. I'll ask and see what I can do regarding that.

As for New Liberty, it's in ruins. There is a single Drekon ship parked on the front lawn of Parliament House. Lots of folks think that the Drekons must be hiding their fleet in orbit, but we've only seen that one ship since the morning after the invasion. As you can probably guess, the long-range scanners were destroyed when they hit the Spaceport that first night so we have no idea what's in orbit.

Nothing we've tried to hit their ship with has made a dent. And lots of folks died trying. Once a day that ship takes off and goes pillaging somewhere and returns. Most of the attacks have been in and around New Liberty. And nobody can figure out why they do it once every 24 hours, almost like clockwork. Let's just say that if our expedition is successful, maybe we can put an end to that.

I've contacted a bunch of folks in various guilds asking for temporary NAPs so we can maybe hold off on being farmed for a while. So far I've only heard from 2, but they did say yes. If you can send out similar requests to your contacts list it may help, who knows. Hopefully some others will act honorably – hah!

Talk to you soon,

Sam Z.

=============================

From [CSTS3] Speedy Reply - Block Player - Report - Copy Savebox

Sam! When you said the scanners were out, that reminded me of something! The spaceport in Britannia has an older set of short-range scanners for incoming/outgoing trade ships. We don't get nearly the traffic you do in New Liberty, so we haven't upgraded in forever – and our scanners are not on the net, they're strictly for local use right at the facility. Anyway, they've been shut down since the invasion since they suck up MAJOR power, and it's not like any of our trade routes are active right now.

So I spent the afternoon down there and arranged to have the power re-routed from the Fusion plant for a "priority operation". Don't ask how I pulled that off, let's just say it's a good thing the jails are shut down right now

More importantly, the scanners still work and they can see what's in orbit! Or, more to the point: what's NOT IN ORBIT. That's right, Sam – there is no Drekon fleet in orbit! We are 100% sure of this! We have been running continuous scans and there is nothing up there that doesn't belong. Just the satellites we put there. Do you realize what this means? We're being occupied and terrorized by just one ship! I hope your mission is to take that ship out, Sam.

Anyway, make sure Jeremiah gets this news right away, it's critical intel! Meanwhile, I'll continue the scans, and I'll continue asking online for NAPs and begging people not to farm us. As if that'll work.

Good luck,

Speedy

=============================

Sam was stunned. The Drekons were holding Cestus 3 with one small ship after all! Granted, it was a seemingly indestructible ship – but surely there must be a way to defeat it and end the reign of terror. So far that seemed to be an insurmountable challenge, but it was better than having to figure out how to deal with an entire armada of Drekon ships, that was certain!

Sam sprang up from his workstation and ran full-tilt for the bridge. When he got to the forward deck he took the stairs 2 at a time and burst through the bridge door, hyperventilating. Jeremiah was there along with Captain Nath.

"What's the matter, Sam? You look like you've got some news!" Jeremiah got up from his seat and approached Sam who was bent over with his hands on his knees, gulping air.

"Drekons - one ship! No fleet - in orbit!" Sam managed to blurt out in between gasps.

"Take a deep breath, Sam, you're not making sense".

Sam took a few moments to fill his lungs. "The Drekons do not have a fleet in orbit, it's just the one ship in New Liberty!"

"How do you know this"? Jeremiah asked.

Sam explained, relaying his conversation with Speedy to Jeremiah. Jeremiah's face lit up and he smiled broadly. He grasped Sam by the shoulders. "Sam, my boy – you may have just provided us with the single most important piece of tactical information in the world! I knew bringing you on this expedition was a good choice! If this turns out to be true, you've just given us all new hope. Well done, Sam!"

Jeremiah let go of Sam's shoulders and keyed open the ship's intercom. "All hands to the bridge immediately! All hands to the bridge!"

TO BE CONTINUED..

[Nightfire]

So far, I think this is pretty interesting.

[rakkety tam]

it gets real exciting in the 5 and 6 parts and well the rest

[Taggerung The Otter]

amaxing

[rakkety tam]

"Kind of an odd place to put a museum..." Sam mused out loud as the Alyra approached the pier. He stretched and yawned, the cool air helping him come alive after an early wake-up call this morning. The sea voyage had taken just under 6 days and Sam was looking forward to stepping on dry land again. Fortunately they were ignored by the Drekons and were able to make the trip without incident.


The museum was located quite literally on the water, with part of it on land and part of it on pilings cantilevered out over Warlock Bay. Everything about the place felt unfamiliar to Sam, which was no surprise given how far they'd come. The museum was located in the city of Atlantis on the Southern Continent, over 6000 miles from home.


After ship's captain P.J. Nath expertly glided the Alyra alongside the dock, several resistance members took ropes and tied them off, securing the sleek and fast ship to the pier. They had finally arrived at the "Museum of Antique Warfare". A place Sam had never heard of until last week.


"Everything appears undamaged, let's go ashore" said Jeremiah, the leader of the resistance movement. The resistance was trying to fight back against the occupation by the Drekons. The Drekons were terrorizing the population of Cestus III, raiding and pillaging once a day with a single ship. Unfortunately they had not yet devised a way of taking out that ship, which is why they made the long journey to the museum. The museum was supposed to contain the very last military vessel produced by the New Liberty shipyards, 475 years ago. Whether it could be of any help, no one knew, but Jeremiah was very optimistic.


Eleven of the party went ashore, with Captain Nath staying aboard the Alyra to do some post-journey checkouts of her mini-fusion plant and other vital systems. She had performed well, getting the crew safely there in record time without a single problem.


As they approached the main entrance, Sam was a little surprised to find the front door open and the lights on inside. Inside, the ventilation hummed and soft music played in the background. "It's like nothing happened", Sam thought to himself. He wondered if the people here even knew about what was happening to the rest of the planet.


"Welcome! I'm Nez, a volunteer here at the museum. Admission is 10 Ravens per person, and we accept cash only. How many in your party?" The voice startled Sam, and came from his left. There was a small ticket counter with a staffer that he hadn't noticed upon entering.


Jeremiah stepped over and said "we're expected by the curator. Please inform him that Jeremiah is here with his group."


"Certainly! Please wait here a moment".


Turning to Sam who looked a little confused, Jeremiah said "Nika called ahead" and winked at him.


While they waited, the resistance crew examined the lobby displays. Posters and artwork depicting fighting spaceships, defense turrets and 3D-animated battle scenes covered the entry wall. Sam was sure he recognized some of the ships from the IGCBCS system. "That's a Dreadnought! And that one's gotta be a Frigate" he exclaimed.


"Yes, Sam. A lot of what you see when you log in to the IGCBCS is drawn from the 'real' world or didn't you know that?"


"No, I didn't. But I guess it makes sense when you think about it..."


Just then, two men approached, and one stuck his hand out to Jeremiah. "Greetings! I am Hikaru Shidou, museum curator. And this is Hiji Paratwa, exhibit specialist. He's the most knowledgeable staffer we have on that 'special exhibit' you wanted to see".


"Thank you for taking the time to see us, Curator. Please lead the way". Jeremiah gestured with his hand towards the museum proper.


"Of course! Follow me, please." The curator led the team past exhibits of everything from handheld weaponry to flight suits worn by space pilots, to actual debris from attacks before the great wars ended. The Inter-Galactic Treaty, signed approximately 475 years prior, had ended all actual combat in favor of virtual fighting done in an online universe. Since then, the economy of Cestus 3 had flourished and the people were happy. These relics were from a time the government wished its citizens to forget; hence the museum was located far out of the way and was not promoted. As a result, very few people came to visit each year.


As they walked through the main gallery, the curator pointed out a few notable items here and there. When he saw Sam hesitating at one particular small showcase, he stopped and said, "Do you know what those are? They are rare indeed!"


The case contained a set of small metallic items about an inch wide and 3 inches tall that looked like decorations of some sort. "No, I don't. What are these, Mr. Shidou?" Sam asked.


The curator placed a hand on Sam's back and said "please, call me Hikaru. My father is 'Mr. Shidou'! Anyway, you are looking at a complete set of Commander Insignia. During the pre-IGT period, each planet and outpost had a Commander in charge who specialized in one area of operation." He pointed to the leftmost one and said, "that one is a Production insignia, followed by Tactical, Defense, Research, Construction and Logistics. They're all fairly rare, and as far as I know we have the only complete set on the planet."


Jeremiah approached the case and asked politely "Hikaru, if you don't mind, time is of the essence. May we see the Corvette?"


"But of course. Forgive me, I don't get the chance to talk about our exhibits as much as I'd like. It's right through here." Hikaru led them through an archway into a very large darkened hall. "Wait a moment, I'll get the lights".


Several jaws dropped as the room's sole exhibit came into view in the bright lighting. The hall was dominated by a huge transparent aluminum enclosure housing a large one-man fighting ship on a silver pedestal. The Corvette. The group was abuzz immediately.




"It's real! It's really real!" Nika said in wonderment.


"Wow! I can't wait to get my hands on her, right Brent?". Engineer Peter Mjin elbowed his counterpart in the ribs.


"Holy sh-"


"Stop right there, Ace" Jeremiah held up his hand. "There are ladies present". Ace was the group's pilot and was understandably excited.


"Would you look at that! It's in mint condition!" exclaimed Nalle Bardolf, the group's Historian as he walked around the enclosure.


"She never flew, but that is good for us" explained Hikaru. "She was preserved right off the assembly line. She finished building the day after the IGT was signed and it was either 'self-destruct' or 'museum', and as you can imagine we're very glad the leaders of the time decided on choice 'B'".


Jeremiah caressed the clear transparent aluminum case with something approaching reverence. "I for one am very glad those leaders had the foresight to preserve her. What else can you tell me about her?"


Mr. Paratwa cleared his throat and began. "Well, firstly, your comrade is right – she is in mint condition. That's because she went directly into this case at the shipyard. It's made of a single three-dimensional seamless piece of pure transparent aluminum. The atmosphere inside is 100% Argon, humidity and temperature-controlled. We've been carefully monitoring the environment and adjusting as needed for centuries. As you can see there has been virtually no decay. She's as perfect as you can get for a 475-year old lady."


Dace Reddy, the group's navigator, spoke up. "You said she went directly from the shipyard to the case. Wasn't she stripped down first?"


"That's the beauty of this specimen", Mr. Paratwa went on. "Nothing was removed. She's still got her Stellar Drive, computer, comm and navigation systems and yes - the laser cannons as well."


"My word... it's better than we could possibly have hoped for!" Jeremiah looked as though he may have been crying.


"Wait a minute! If all the systems are still in place, could she fly?" Predictably, the question came from Ace.


"Unfortunately, we don't know. The ship didn't come with an owner's manual, and of course it hasn't been powered up. I suppose it's theoretically possible, if someone knew how to charge it up and operate it. Unfortunately the folks with that knowledge died over 400 years ago."


Jeremiah said "I am sure we can still learn a lot from her, Ace, and hopefully put some of that information to use in our struggle with the Drekons".


Ace grasped both of Jeremiah's shoulders. "Don't you get it, J? Forget learning about ancient technology! Let's use it and blast the damned Drekon ship!"


"Ace, we don't know if this ship even works after all this time. And you're a Trade Ship pilot – you've got no experience with a ship like this! Even if we somehow overcame those problems, we have no idea if she'd be strong enough to take out the Drekon ship". A thoughtful look came over Jeremiah's face and he paused for a moment before going on. Rubbing his chin he said, "but I suppose it might be worth pursuing. What do you think, Sam?"


Sam had been gazing in awe of the old fighting craft and hadn't said a word since entering the great hall. He finally spoke up. "It looks just like the Corvette in the IGCBCS system. And the Drekon ship resembles a Fighter. At least in the IGCBCS universe, a Corvette will totally own a Fighter one on one, every time. So far, we've seen some scary parallels between the pre-IGT period and the IGCBCS system. If reality follows the online universe, it could be the same. Even with the Drekons' advanced tech a Corvette should win, easily."


"That's no guarantee! Just because your computer-based 'virtual combat' says so doesn't mean it would work in reality!" Ace spoke out.


"I think we're getting way ahead of ourselves", Jeremiah mused. "Unless someone knows how to power one of these up, she isn't going anywhere. Plus, she's stuck in there and we're out here."


A small voice spoke up from the back of the group. "I think I can help with the first part". The voice belonged to a rail-thin man with thick glasses who looked very nervous. No one had seen him enter the hall.


"Who are you? And how can you help?" Jeremiah inquired of the newcomer.


"I-I'm Lucius. Lucius Vantreyl. I'm a volunteer here at the museum. I overheard your conversation and I think I may know something about your power question. I'm kind of a hobbyist. I build scale models of these old ships all the time. And I study them. A lot. I even have a Corvette scale model in my basement. Well, it's my Mom's basement, technically, but it's also my workshop. I spend a lot of time down there when I'm not here" he added, rambling.


Brent Ward, one of the two engineers in the group tried to get him to re-focus. "What about the power?"


Lucius pushed his glasses up on his nose and walked to the display case. "Well, see, the Stellar Drive provides all the 'juice' the ship needs when in flight. Not just propulsion but weapons, computers, life support, all of it. It can go quite a long while on one charge, though, but obviously not 475 years!" Nervously laughing at his own perceived humor, he snorted loudly which echoed in the great hall.


What a nerd! Sam thought, rolling his eyes.


Sensing he was the only one laughing, Lucius stopped abruptly and cleared his throat. "Ahem. Anyway, the initial charging of the drive is done at the time of construction at the Shipyard. It takes a lot of power. If the ship lived long enough, it would need to visit a Shipyard or Orbital facility for a recharge. In the interests of speed and efficiency, they didn't have to disassemble anything – there's an external charging port on all Stellar Drive ships".


"What? Where?" Peter Mjin looked into the case intently.


"There's a removable panel in the rear underside of the ship, that's where it would get 'plugged in' for recharging. But like I said, it took a lot of energy to spool up one of these babies! I doubt the museum's got enough power for that. Especially with the grid so unreliable".


"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Brent asked Peter Mjin.


Peter said excitedly "Yeah, I think so! We're gonna need some explosive to bust open that case, and around 250-300 meters of high-capacity insulated power cable, and..."


"Now just wait a minute! No one is busting any cases open!" Mr. Paratwa looked angry at the thought. "This is a vital part of our history!"


"We're gonna be history if we don't get rid of those Drekons!" This came from Dace Reddy, the group's Navigator.


Turning to face Paratwa, Hikaru said, "he's right, Hiji. Our planet needs this ship, and they need it out of the case. It does us no good sitting there looking pretty." Hikaru laid a hand gently on Hiji's shoulder and said softly, "it's time to let her out of her cage."


"How are you planning to solve the power problem?" he asked the engineers. Sam had an idea of what the answer was going to be, but he hoped he was wrong.


Peter and Brent looked at each other with a conspiratorial smile. "Why, the Alyra of course! She's got a beautiful mini-fusion plant right onboard. I bet it's plenty enough to get the job done!" Peter said happily. Then his face turned serious. "Of course, that means she'll be dead in the water unless someone brought a spare fusion plant with them..."


Stranded in Atlantis?" thought Sam. Oh well, beats being killed by the Drekons I guess!


"Whose job is it going to be to tell Captain Nath about this?" asked Juan Obi, the group's Logistics officer. "I sure as heck wouldn't want to be them!"


Jeremiah held a hand up. "I'll take care of that when the time comes, Juan. In the meantime, the first order of business will be opening the case. If we can't do that, we're back to square one anyway. Sam says that a Corvette is stronger than a Fighter in IGCBCS, and he's right. If we're to lay our hopes on this being also true in real life, we desperately need to get this Corvette operational. Brent, Peter – your first priority is cracking this case in a way that does not damage the ship inside. Can you do this?"


"Yes, J - we can. I think." Peter rubbed his chin. "Cutting into transparent aluminum isn't easy. But shaped charges placed at strategic points along an edge or two ought to do it nice and neatly. Give us an hour to get the equipment off the Alyra and set things up."


"Go. And good luck!" The two engineers swiftly headed back out of the hall, talking rapidly to each other about the task at hand. Jeremiah turned to Sam. Sam had a curious look on his face. "What are you thinking?"


Sam replied seriously, "I'm thinking about all the similarities we've seen between the online universe and this situation. There are just too many coincidences, but maybe..." Sam paused, gathering his thoughts. He continued, "all I know is that in the IGCBCS universe, the Corvette wins against a Fighter every time. And this Corvette looks exactly like the one online. I mean exactly, down to the smallest detail. That has to be on purpose! Whoever designed the IGCBCS system apparently designed it to imitate real-life combat as it existed almost 500 years ago. Those Commander insignias we saw earlier? We have the same six Commanders in the system. The same six!"


"Go on, Sam – I think you've got something here" Jeremiah coached.


"If the system imitates life - and if that Drekon ship is only a Fighter, and we actually have a Corvette to use against it – well, let's just say that I'm hoping life imitates the system for a change!"


TO BE CONTINUED..

[rakkety tam]

sorry i have been inactive just to make it up i will post 6 and 7 now






FIRE IN THE HOLE!"

Peter Mjin hit the button on his remote and there was a series of loud explosions from the Great Hall in the Museum of Antique Warfare. Then everything was silent.

"Did it work?" asked Jeremiah, the leader of the resistance.

As he finished his question, there was a slow, deep creaking noise, followed by a hiss of escaping gas and a metallic groan. BANG! Something hit the floor with an impact large enough to felt by everyone standing a safe distance away.

"Let me check, but that's a good sound, J!" said Brent, the other of the 2 engineers on the expedition.

Brent made his way into the hall, waving his hands to brush away the large amount of dust and particles of transparent aluminum in the air. "It worked, alright! There's an entire side open now!"

Cheers erupted from the rest of the group as they all rushed in to the hall to see for themselves. A neat rectangular slab of transparent aluminum lay on the floor, and the giant display case was now open on one side. Jeremiah walked over and laid one hand on the Corvette, caressing the smooth armored hull. "Hello, beautiful lady..." he cooed.

Ace, the group's pilot, was already climbing up one side of the ship towards the cockpit, followed closely behind by the two engineers.

"Wow, it's even got that 'new-car smell'!" Ace exclaimed as he opened the cockpit. "Everything looks mint condition inside too", he said as he stuck his head down inside to have a look.

Peter Mjin peered over Ace's shoulder and smiled. "Looks like everything is covered in Taylex, it's really pristine down there!"

Brent had approached the rear of the craft and shouted, "Peter - I found the charging port! Now get down here and take a look at this with me or she's not going anywhere..."

In addition to the chatter from Ace and the engineers, everyone else in the group was excitedly commenting on the ship that lay exposed to them; a ship that had not been accessible for 475 years. Jeremiah needed to get the group re-focused.

"Attention, everyone! Attention, please!" Gradually the voices died down and the group turned to look at their leader. "There is much to be done before we get ahead of ourselves. Let's stay focused – remember, we only get one shot at this."

Turning towards the resistance movement's security officer, The Chief, he went on, "first and foremost I need you to make sure this area is secured at all times. From now on, nobody in or out of here except for us. That includes museum volunteers. Got it?"

"The Chief will take care of that, don't worry". For reasons no one understood, the security officer only referred to himself in the third person, but according to Jeremiah he was among the best at his job.

"Next, Peter and Brent – your primary mission is to get the power transfer figured out. If we can't recharge the Stellar Drive we might as well go back to throwing rocks at the Drekons. Take Obi, Dace and Midori along to help since they don't have anything to do at the moment."

Juan Obi was the group's Logistics officer, Dace Reddy was Navigator and Midori Yuki was in charge of the group's medical needs. So far there hadn't been any, thankfully.

"You got it, J!" Peter, Brent and the others headed off in the direction of the exit, no doubt to check for supplies on the Alyra. They were hoping to cannibalize parts to connect the Corvette to the mini Fusion plant on board the fast sailing vessel. This would quite likely drain the power plant to the point where the Alyra would be dead in the water. The ship's captain, P.J. Nath, was decidedly not pleased with this aspect of the plan. He had been quietly brooding in his quarters since Jeremiah informed him of the plan.

For the first time since the display case had been opened, Sam spoke up. "Jeremiah? There may be another problem."
"What's that, Sam?"

Turning to the museum curator, Hikaru Shidou, Sam asked, "how exactly did the ship get into this hall initially?"
"I – I honestly don't know! Mr. Paratwa may, however."

Hiji Paratwa was the exhibit specialist and was the museum's most knowledgeable volunteer on the Corvette. "As far as I know, they literally built the museum around it. I think it was delivered by crane into the center Great Hall and the walls and roof were completed afterwards. There aren't many records of it unfortunately."
"So there's no removable doors, or anything like that", Sam queried.
"Er, no. Not that I know of." Mr. Paratwa made a frown, realizing what was coming next.

Turning back to Jeremiah, Sam said, "see? We're gonna need an exit of some sort if you get my drift."
"Oh, dear." Jeremiah realized the next part was going to be difficult. "The back wall there faces land-side, doesn't it, Hikaru?"
"Yes, but I don't see – OH NO YOU DON'T!" His eyes grew wide with fury as he grasped the hidden meaning behind the questions. "Nobody is blowing any walls out of my MY museum!"

Jeremiah calmly approached the curator and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Walls and museums can be rebuilt, Hikaru. Our people and way of life cannot. We need to do this." After a long and uncomfortable pause, Hikaru nodded once to Jeremiah and strode out of the hall.

An hour later, the engineers returned with their 3 helpers in tow, dragging a large cable with them. "This is the power transfer cable, J. It is long enough, now we just have to piece together a connector for the 'vette's charging port. Give us another hour and we'll be ready to test it out", Brent explained.
"Please be careful. We can't afford to overload any of the circuits onboard."
"We can control the transfer from onboard the Alyra. One of us will work the controls on that end while the other monitors the Corvette. We've got it covered, J!"

While the engineers were working on their power problem, Ace had been poring over every inch of the cockpit of the Corvette. Gingerly climbing up the side, Jeremiah paid him a visit. "So, Ace, what can you tell me about our antique friend here?"

"Well, I'm sure it's more impressive when all the little doo-dads are lit up. But so far, so good. It doesn't look all that different from the Trade Ships I fly." Ace pointed in sequence, "throttle, anti-grav initiators, landing gear – I've identified a bunch of stuff so far. For the rest we'll probably have to wait until we have some juice in her. Have a look at this", he pointed to an engraved nameplate on the cockpit wall. The plate read "Corvette Serial # TK-421 Commissioned at New Liberty Shipyards for Captain Cynewulf of the 8th Expeditionary Fleet".



"Looks like this ship had a captain who never got to fly her".

"Well, she will have a captain now, Ace", Jeremiah responded, patting him on the shoulder. "Hopefully, if our engineers are as good as they seem to be you'll be able to check out the rest of the systems soon enough."

Meanwhile, Sam had taken the opportunity to work with Nika on setting up a communications "command post" in the museum's main exhibit hall. Together they transferred all the comm equipment from the Alyra and hooked into the museum's power supply. His first order of business was to log in to the IGCBCS and see what was happening online.

Upon connecting, the screen indicated that he had 4 messages waiting – and unfortunately the number was in red meaning he'd been attacked since his last log-on. "Vultures!" Sam exclaimed as he saw that another two of his bases had been taken over by users from [VNDKR]. They were one of the guilds that had wiped out nearly all of [CSTS3]'s fleets after the Drekon raid rendered nearly everyone inactive.

Sam adjusted his queues and dispatched another message to Speedy, asking him to verify the scanner readings for orbital space. Speedy had informed them during the sea voyage that as far as they could tell there was no Drekon fleet in orbit, but all the same Sam wanted to be absolutely certain.

Hikaru, who had been absent for a while, entered the hall and sought out Jeremiah. His expression was much calmer. "I hope you can forgive me for my earlier outburst, Jeremiah. It's just that I've grown attached to this facility – it's been my life's work."
"Certainly, don't think twice about it. I know this has all happened very fast for you."
"Just promise me that your engineers will limit the damage as much as possible."

Jeremiah chuckled. "Don't worry! Those two fellows are real magicians!"
"I prefer 'illusionist' myself", said Peter Mjin, smiling as he approached the pair. "Brent and I are ready to hook up the power, J".
"Excellent, please proceed."

"Let's do it!" Peter Mjin left to control the procedure from onboard the Alyra while Brent and his helpers proceeded to drag the power transfer cable to the now-open case that housed the Corvette. Shortly they had the connector seated in the Stellar Drive's external charging port. "Step back, everybody, just in case." Grabbing a hand-held comm from Nika he called Peter onboard the Alyra and said, "we're ready on this end. Let's do this like we talked about – start with a trickle, like 5 percent gross output or so".



"Roger that, here goes nothing!" came the reply over the comm.

Several tense moments passed when Ace impatiently said, "should we be seeing anything?"

"Increase it to 10 percent, Peter", Brent radioed over. "Roger that", came the response. Still nothing seemed to be happening. Turning to Jeremiah, Brent said, "I don't want to rush it, J – we only get one shot like you said, and I don't want to burn anything out. I imagine replacement parts would be pretty hard to find these days".
"I understand perfectly. You do what you think is best, and we all trust your judgment."

Keying the comm again, Brent said, "Peter, go at 20 percent and stand ready to hit the kill switch on your end".
"Roger, increasing to 20 percent and standing by"

A slight hum began to emanate from the area of the Corvette as the increased power began to flow through. "All right, let's ramp it up by 5 percent every 30 seconds unless you hear from me otherwise, okay Pete?"
"Got it, I'll call out the benchmarks for ya" Peter answered. "25 percent coming up now".

The hum gradually increased as Peter ramped up the power, then at 45 percent something happened. "There's a light!", exclaimed Sam. Sure enough, an indicator on the underside of the Corvette at the charging port was gently glowing. It was hard to make out in the semi-darkened hall. As Peter called out the 50-percent mark it got brighter. At 60 percent it shone steadily and a chime sounded from the cockpit.
"Hold it there for a minute, Peter! We got something here!" Brent called over the comm. "Ace, let's get you in the cockpit and see what's going on".

Ace eagerly climbed aboard and sat in the pilot's seat. He had already located a button on the center console labeled 'MSTR PWR' which seemed like it would be the main "on" switch. "Should I try it?" Ace asked.
"Go for it, let's see what happens" answered Brent. Ace held his breath and reached out his finger hesitantly. "Please don't blow up, please don't blow up" he whispered to himself. Aloud, he said "here goes! 3...2...1", and with that he closed his eyes and punched the button. Thankfully, nothing blew up. Ace released his breath and opened his eyes. Dim lights came to life in the cockpit. The center screen was still dark. "I don't think there's enough juice yet", he called down to Brent. "Not by a long shot".
"Peter, up it another 10 percent slowly please", he called over. The lights in the cockpit grew brighter still but the center screen remained off. "How's that, Ace?"
"Not yet! More juice, please!"

Brent relayed the message to Peter who increased the output from the mini fusion plant to 80 percent of its capacity. "Brent, we're starting to see a temp increase on the output port here", he called over.
"Roger that, hold it there for a sec. How about it, Ace?"

Ace was about to reply, when a female voice with a strange accent suddenly announced, "Stellar Drive charging malfunction. Insufficient input voltage. Please increase input voltage." Ace nearly jumped out of his seat in fright. The message repeated over and over. "She's talking to me! And she wants more power!".
"Typical woman!" Ace thought to himself and chuckled.
"Peter, can we up it some more?" Brent asked.
"We're gonna bump up against the output limit or a major thermal overload problem pretty soon, but let's see what we can do!" Peter replied. At 90 percent another chime sounded and the center screen finally came to life with the words "initializing...". The female voice spoke again. "Stellar Drive charging is in progress. Estimated time to completion is eighteen hours, 34 minutes. Please disengage all primary systems during this time. Thank you."
Ace pumped his fist in the air and called out, "WOO-HOO! She's alive! She says it'll be 18 hours and change to a full recharge, Brent".
"Peter, how's it holding up? Can it take a sustained output for nineteen hours?" Brent radioed over to his counterpart.
"What? That long? Dang, I dunno Brent. So far it's smooth, but running at 90 percent output for a sustained length of time like that, she's gonna heat up that cable pretty hard. If we can keep it cool somehow – as well as the output and input ports - that'll help. But barring any spikes it should hold up. There won't be enough juice left to power the Alyra when we're done, that's for sure though" came the reply.
"We knew that going in. I'll see what I can do to keep the cable cool."

Up in the cockpit the center screen had changed to a progress bar showing the words "Charging in Progess" and a status bar displaying 1 percent. Ace climbed down and made his way over to Jeremiah. "Once she's fully charged I think I can fly her, J. I'll know better tomorrow after I've had an opportunity to check out the rest of the systems. But she's alive, can you believe it! We did it!"

Jeremiah was restrained in his celebration. "There is still much that can go wrong, but so far we seem to have caught all the breaks. Good work, Ace. And that goes double for you and Peter, Brent!"
"What happens next?", Sam asked.
"Now, we wait. And do what we can to keep that cable, and those ports and connectors cooled off", Brent responded.
"I have some portable fans we can hook up, and I can set the museum's environmental controls as cool as possible" Hikaru said to Brent. The two of them left to go see about those items.
"It's going to be a long, long night..." thought Sam as he gazed in awe at the 475-year old ship slowly coming to life before his eyes.


TO BE CONTINUED..




It's FREEZING in here!" Midori Yuki, the group's medical officer shivered and sipped a cup of hot chocolate. She was bundled in a sweatshirt and jacket, but still felt chilled to the bone in the Great Hall of the Museum of Antique Warfare. Over the course of the last eighteen hours the Resistance had been attempting to recharge an antique Corvette housed there, using power from the mini fusion plant aboard their fast sailing ship, the Alyra. The museum had turned the environmental controls to as cold as possible a setting to help keep the power transfer cable cool. So far it had worked, and the power transfer had approached completion without a problem. But to Midori and Nika, the other female member of the team, it seemed as though the museum had dialed the temperature all the way down to "Arctic".

"That's 'cause you're a woman, you ladies are always too cold. I like it, it's refreshing!" retorted Ace, the group's young pilot. He was clad only in a t-shirt and shorts. Midori shook her head and said, "You should really put on a jacket or something. How are you going to save us from the Drekons if you catch pneumonia?"

"Don't worry so much, Mom." He joked. "Where I grew up this was Springtime weather!"

Sam entered the Great Hall, holding a cup of coffee and yawning. He looked over at the Corvette which had apparently acquired a new decoration at some point while he had been asleep in his bunk on board the Alyra.
"The 'Phoenix', huh?" asked Sam, nodding in the direction of the front left side of the ship where a name had been painted on the hull in crude white lettering.
"Appropriate, don't you think?" replied Ace with a grin on his face. He had flecks of white paint in his hair.
"Yes. Yes, I do," mused Sam, sipping his coffee. "Except of course the part about it igniting and turning into ashes at the end. Here's hoping that doesn't happen. Cheers." He raised his coffee cup in salute to Ace.

Just then, a chime sounded from the cockpit. Ace immediately sprang to action and clambered up the side of the ship into the cockpit. The female voice had returned. "Charging complete. Stellar Drive at 100 percent. Please disconnect external power before engaging primary systems. Thank you.""YES!" shouted Ace, pumping a fist into the air

Brent Ward and Peter Mjin, the group's engineers, disconnected the power coupling from the rear of the Corvette. "Good timing," remarked P.J. Nath, captain of the Alyra. He had just entered the hall. "I was coming to tell you two that the fusion plant was down to just about nothing. I doubt there's enough juice left in it to cook us breakfast at this point, let alone get us home."
"We'll worry about getting home later, P.J.". Jeremiah looked over at the engineers. "This is what we came here to do."

For the next few minutes, the engineers and their helpers removed the portable fans from near the Corvette, and coiled up the power transfer cable.
"We're ready, J", said Peter Mjin. He and Brent Ward had already placed a series of shaped charges along the rear wall in order to blow it out in anticipation of making an exit for the newly-revived Corvette. Now that it was fully charged up, it was time to provide a way out.

Turning to address his comrades, Jeremiah loudly called out, "All right, let's clear this room, folks! Again!". Resistance members started to pick up equipment and belongings and make their way around the corner to a safe distance away from the Great Hall.

5 minutes later there was yet another call of "Fire in the hole!" and a loud bang sounded from the Great Hall. The engineers had done their job. Sunlight streamed through as the dust cleared, and it showed that the rear wall had been blown out neatly. The vast majority of debris had landed on the outside of the museum. At first glance it looked like there was ample room to move the Corvette through.



"Well done, gentlemen!" Jeremiah clapped Brent on the back. "Ace, it's showtime!"
"All RIGHT!" Ace shouted as he headed toward the cockpit.

Jeremiah called out to him, "Nothing fancy, please – just see if you can ease her outside and park her on the lawn. For all our sakes, be careful!"
"You got it, J."

Ace entered the cockpit and began to look over the instrumentation. He had spent most of the past night studying the cockpit controls and interfaces, and while much of it was familiar there were still some things he didn't yet recognize. For now, he focused on propulsion and helm controls which were quite similar to the Trade Ships he flew.
"Main power engaged, check. AntiGrav Initiators – check", he said to himself as he pushed a series of buttons on the console. "Now to just ease her up ever so slightly..."

In a flash, the Corvette rose sharply off the pedestal and impacted the roof of the transparent aluminum enclosure with a loud bang. Ace hurriedly applied some lateral thrust to nudge the ship out of the open side of the enclosure, but the ship took off like a shot in that direction, impacting and then dragging along the side wall of the Great Hall with a horrible scraping sound. Finally, he got her put down on the floor of the hall.

The resistance members swarmed over to the ship, concerned. The engineers immediately began checking out the hull for damage. "I'm fine, thanks for asking!" Ace exclaimed ruefully as he poked his head out of the cockpit. Fortunately the ship was undamaged save for some scrapes on the armor plating.
"What happened?" Jeremiah inquired, a look of concern on his face.
"She's SUPER-sensitive, J. I just need to get used to her a bit. The Trade Ships I am used to are heavy and slow – like flying a giant slug! This one – well, this one is more like a graceful and very fast bird. I've just got to compensate for the power and I'll be fine." His tone turned serious as he looked Jeremiah in the eye. "I can do this, J," he said calmly.

Nodding, Jeremiah said. "I believe in you, Ace. Just remember that this bird is the only one we've got, so take good care of her". Turning to the engineers, he asked, "Any damage?"
"She's ok, J – just a few scratches. It'll buff out" Brent said with a smile.
"Ready to try again?" asked Jeremiah.
"Yes, sir!"

With that. Ace climbed in and the group cleared the hall. Once again the Corvette lifted off, but this time slowly and gracefully. Ace applied a tiny amount of lateral thrust and the Corvette moved away from the wall to the center of the hall. Once there, he began a slow rotation to align with the hole in the rear wall. Gently, he applied forward thrust and eased the Corvette through to the courtyard beyond. Hovering over the grassy area, he engaged the landing gear which smoothly deployed from the underside, and set the ship down on the ground. Watching from inside, the members of the resistance breathed a collective sigh of relief as this next major hurdle was surmounted.
"Drekons, here I come!" Ace called out as he made his way out of the ship.
"Not so fast, Ace. We need to work on a few things before we send you into combat." Ever the voice of reason, Jeremiah pointed out that Ace had no experience with weapons systems or targeting computers. "How about we set up a practice range and you spend some quality time with the Phoenix?" It was the first time Jeremiah had used the name Ace bestowed on the ancient fighting ship, and it had an effect on the young pilot. Ace was grinning broadly as they strode towards the museum together, discussing their next move.
"Can you believe that?" Sam turned to Nika in the Great Hall.
"I've seen some amazingly weird stuff the last month or so, Sam. I'll believe just about anything these days. Let's get you logged in again, whaddya say?"

Sam agreed. He hadn't been online since the previous evening, and he was awaiting a reply from Speedy about the status of near-orbit space. Logging in to the IGCBCS system from their makeshift command post, Sam found several messages waiting for him. Thankfully, none were red, which would have indicated he'd been attacked again.

The first two messages were from users in different guilds offering both condolences to Cestus III, and more importantly temporary NAP agreements. These would help protect [CSTS3] but ultimately they needed to get their users back online to be effective. Sam replied to [RUGGS] Lord Crab and [DOJI] Traktorka, accepting the NAP offers and thanking them for their wishes. He also reminded them to be vigilant regarding the Drekons in real life.

Unfortunately there was no word from Speedy. His previous communication had confirmed that the latest scanner runs had still showed that the space around their planet was devoid of enemy ships. Sam sent another request asking Speedy for an update. There was not much else to do online. He confirmed that no one from [CSTS3] except for Speedy and himself had been logged in since the invasion. Most if not all of the guild were showing the "inactive" tag which made them juicy targets for the rest of the online universe. Hopefully their mission would change this soon before it became too late.

Ace spent the rest of the day practicing flight skills in the fields surrounding the museum. Towards evening a loud crack and sizzle indicated that he had fired the ship's weapons for the first time. Monitoring from the command post, Nika smiled as she heard Ace call "woo-hoo!" over the comm, indicating that he had hit his intended targets, a row of hay bales. They were reduced to ashes, and small fires broke out in the surrounding field which The Chief and Juan Obi promptly put out. Ace continued practicing well into the night until Jeremiah grabbed the comm from Nika and ordered him to land and get some food and sleep, or else.



Another day went by, and still no word from Speedy. Ace spent the entire day working on his flight skills, vaporizing lots of hay bales in the fields around the museum. Sam watched for a time, impressed with how quickly Ace had learned to maneuver the sleek ship. He was really quite good, and kept the other resistance members busy putting out small ground fires started by his successful target runs.

Shortly before dinner, Nika approached Sam with a sad look on her face. "Can I talk to you alone for a sec?" she asked.
"Sure, what's up?"
"I just got a comm from HQ a few minutes ago. It's bad news, I'm afraid", she said. "The Drekons raided over in Britannia yesterday morning. Specifically - they hit the Spaceport."

Sam's face went white in horror. "No. Tell me he wasn't there when it happened..."
"I'm sorry, Sam. Speedy's gone. He was working the scanners when the raid happened, along with several other members of the local resistance cell. The latest count is 18 dead, with many more than that injured. And the Spaceport was totally destroyed."

Sam sat down hard, visibly shaken. This was horrible news indeed. It explained why Sam had not received a reply from Speedy online. It also meant Sam was now the sole user of [CSTS3] able to access the IGCBCS system. Most importantly, it meant they no longer had the ability to check the orbital space around their planet for Drekon reinforcements. When Ace was ready to engage the Drekons, he would be flying blind.
"Thanks for letting me know, Nika." He put his face in his hands, distraught.

She laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Sam. This stinks. I've got to go tell Jeremiah, but I wanted you to know first." Nika left to inform the others while Sam sat in his chair, feeling numbed.

At dinner, Jeremiah held a planning discussion for their assault on the Drekon ship. He first led a toast to Speedy for his invaluable contributions to their efforts, and vowed not to let his work be in vain.

Jeremiah began, "Here's the plan. We're going to assume that Speedy's information was correct, and there were no Drekons in orbit at the time of his last scanner readings. We're also going to make an assumption that they have not sent reinforcements to Cestus III either." Several voices started to speak in protest, but Jeremiah held a hand up. "Before you get all upset, keep in mind that we've seen no evidence of Drekon activity beyond their one ship, and Speedy was a trusted member of this resistance."
"Yeah, well it's been a while since that last scanner report! I don't want to fly into a Drekon battle fleet!" This came from Ace.
"It's a chance we have to take. The Drekons have been nothing if not predictable. Their daily raids have kept to a pattern since the day after the invasion. There is no reason to believe they have sent any additional fleet here now – why would they need to? It's safe to assume that they don't know about the Corvette or we wouldn't be here to talk about it," Jeremiah added.
"Now, to limit exposure we're going to send Ace on a ballistic sub-orbital flight plan. That means he should be able to get to the target in New Liberty in around 2 hours from here. On the slim chance that there are additional hostiles in orbit, he'd be visible for a very short time if at all." Turning to Ace, he said, "The Phoenix is fast, and if you do get spotted you should be able to get away from just about anything." Jeremiah's words didn't quite have the comforting effect they were meant to, but Ace remained quiet.

Jeremiah went on, "The rest of us will monitor from here. Nika has set up a command post with telemetry and remote data feeds from the Phoenix. In addition, we've arranged to have a spotter on the ground in New Liberty to provide real-time intel and reports."
"I believe you may know our spotter, Sam," Nika said. "He's a new member, a local from New Liberty. In fact, he said to say 'hi' to you and also 'I told you so'".
"Really? Who?" Sam had no idea who she might be referring to.
"Some guy named 'Joe Waxie'. Ring a bell? Anyway, he'll be watching the Parliament grounds from a bombed-out office building only a block away from the Drekon ship and communicating to us the whole time. If they make a move, we will know about it and can warn Ace. But being that close to them – he is a brave dude, indeed."
"Wow, he's my neighbor from back home!" Sam was a bit surprised by this. It seemed like ages ago, but Joe Waxie had actually been the one who suggested that Sam attend the resistance meeting in West Liberty that started this whole adventure. Now he was a member of the resistance – and putting himself in harm's way.

Jeremiah spoke next. "All right, then. As much as we'd like to give Ace more practice time, we have to balance that against the fact that our people are being attacked every day. It's time to act now. Therefore, I have decided that tomorrow we will wait for word from HQ that the Drekons have done their daily evil deed. As soon as we hear that, Ace will launch. No delay. We know that the Drekons do not go out twice in a 24-hour period, so that gives us a pretty big window to strike. What we don't know is whether they will spot the incoming threat and respond to it. We also don't know if that will matter. All our data and research indicates that our Phoenix should be more than strong enough to destroy that Drekon ship. But just in case, Ace – if you don't succeed you are to get the heck out of there, understand? Do not be a hero – get yourself and the Phoenix back here safely."
"Got it, J. I'm not going to hang around any longer than necessary, don't worry about it." Ace replied.
"The Chief wants to know if there is a 'Plan B' in case the Corvette isn't strong enough". This came from the enigmatic security officer, who always spoke in third-person. "Perhaps a ground assault? The Chief could lead it..."

Jeremiah held a hand up to stop him. "Let's worry about that later, Chief. If the mission fails we are unfortunately back to the beginning. So let's not fail, shall we? On that note, let's eat, I'm starving!"

Logistics officer Juan Obi had prepared a feast for them – which was no mean task considering that the Alyra had no power, and the museum had no kitchen. Nevertheless, the resistance group hungrily dug in to the meal and excitedly discussed the plan and their potential liberation.

Later that night, Sam was still in a deep funk about Speedy. He connected to the IGCBCS, not sure what it would accomplish. He had 1 message waiting for him, thankfully not a red one. It was from a user with a strange name, [MHUNT] Full_Metal Goon. He offered best wishes over the situation with the Drekons and more importantly, a permanent NAP agreement. Sam had never heard of the user's planetary guild, and a lookup showed that they were small, with very few members. "I wonder how they heard about our situation. What the heck, every little bit helps!" Sam thought to himself. Sam sent a thank-you, accepting the offer, and signed off. Without Speedy to talk to, Sam found little motivation to stay online.

On his way to his bunk on the Alyra, Sam passed Nika. "Isn't it exciting!" she asked. "We're going to launch tomorrow, and finally take out those Drekons!"
"Yeah, that's awesome, can't wait", Sam replied sullenly.
"Still upset about Speedy, huh?"
"Yes. It's funny, though... so many people have died, and yet this one bothers me the most. And I never even met the guy."

Nika looked Sam in the eye. "Well, if our plan works tomorrow, no one else needs to die at the hands of the Drekons. Speedy died so that we could do this. We need to honor him by pulling it off successfully. And for that we need everyone to be at their best tomorrow. I'm counting on you to help out in the Command Center, so go get a good night's sleep ok?" She leaned over and gave Sam a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks, Nika. I'll be there, and I'll do my part. He deserves no less, that's for sure!" Sam said goodnight to Nika and went to his bunk. Unfortunately, sleep eluded him. He lay awake for a long time, thinking about Speedy, mostly, but also the whirlwind of events that had led to this point in time. Less than two weeks ago he was holed up in his darkened suburban home, eating cold canned food and hoping not to be killed by a Drekon raid. Now, the eve of their planet's liberation was here, and he was a part of it. He was also now solely responsible for their planet's online existence in the IGCBCS universe, and it weighed heavily upon him. Sam felt like things had happened so fast that he was losing his grip on them. Part of him yearned for the dull, monotonous days of "SIM mode" back in the IGCBCS offices. It felt like ages ago, and at the same time only yesterday, when he and his office partner Fred discussed the "Legend of the Drekons". A legend that turned to be all too true. Deeply troubled, Sam finally fell into a restless sleep.

The next morning, the Great Hall was abuzz with activity. Nika was awaiting word from HQ that the Drekons had returned from their daily raid, and that would be the signal to launch the assault. Ace spent the morning flying some last-minute practice runs, coming in at a steep angle towards the hay bale targets out in the fields beyond the museum. He was hitting the targets consistently, and his flying looked professional - a lot smoother than his first awkward attempts had been just a few short days ago.

The tension and anticipation remained high all day. Lunchtime came and went, with still no word from resistance HQ. Sam noodled around aimlessly in the IGCBCS system, trying to defuse the jitters he was feeling. He adjusted his queues and sent some more requests for cease-fire and NAP agreements, but grew tired of it after a short while.

Meanwhile, Ace continued to tear up the fields surrounding the museum grounds. Even though the mission was serious, it was obvious he was having a great time putting the old Corvette through its paces. In the late afternoon he even did a dramatic series of aerobatic loops which drew cheers from his fellow resistance members, but frowns from Jeremiah.

Finally towards sunset as everyone was preparing for dinner, Nika abruptly got up from her chair holding an earpiece to her head, and shouted. "Everybody listen up! I just got the word – the Drekons have returned from their raid. Unfortunately they hit in West Wiccawillow today and there were mass casualties. But more importantly they are back in New Liberty now and it's GO TIME!"
"This is it, folks! The moment we've been working towards." Jeremiah addressed the crowd. "Everyone knows what they're supposed to do now. If we pull this off, tonight we dine as free men and women again! Places everybody! Nika – give Ace the launch order. We are GO!"

Nika keyed the comm and relayed the news to Ace. Sam took his place in a chair beside Nika in front of the telemetry monitors.

On board the Corvette parked in the field behind the museum, Ace began to do his pre-mission checks. He took deliberate care to make doubly sure everything was set correctly. "Ballistic sub-orbital flight plan filed in the nav computer, check. Coordinates entered into targeting computer, check. Laser cannon safeties are set to 'off' and they are unlocked and ready. Remote telemetry is, um, telemetry-ing. Whatever you call that."

Nika chuckled at the young pilot's enthusiasm. Sam watched as a series of data streams began to display on the monitors in front of him. His heart was beating fast as he realized he was about to witness history: the first launch of a fighting ship on Cestus III in almost 500 years.
"Estimated flight time, 2 hours. All right, all systems appear to be GO. Next stop, New Liberty! Here goes nothing!" Ace shouted as he punched the throttle controls.

The Corvette gracefully took off and began a very fast, sharp ascent. As members of the resistance and museum staff watched together in awe, It quickly headed out into the sunset skies over the waters of Atlantis. It was gone from sight after only a few seconds, and with it went the hopes of an entire planet.

TO BE CONCLUDED!

[rakkety tam]

u guys want the last part

[rakkety tam]

here it is fellow redwall forum members the finale


WARNING does contain 1 cuss word



Chapter 8:
"Never Again!"

"They're still just sitting there!"  Joe Waxie called over the comm as he kept his spotting scope trained on the Drekon ship.  It remained still, parked on the front lawn of what was left of Parliament House in New Liberty.  The capital of Cestus III lay in ruins, and Joe was doing his best to stay out of sight in an abandoned office building only a block away from what would hopefully become "ground zero" in a few minutes.

"Roger that, thanks Joe", replied Nika from the resistance's makeshift headquarters in the Museum of Antique Warfare in Atlantis, over 6,000 miles away.

"5 minutes to target.  Man, this thing is fast!  Woo-hoo!"  Ace, pilot of the Phoenix, radioed in.  The Phoenixwas a 475-year old Corvette, preserved in the museum for centuries, and now revived in an effort to rid their planet of the Drekon occupation force.  "Targeting computer is locked on 'Big D' and ready to fire when in range".  "Big D" was Ace's code name for the Drekon fighter craft that he would hopefully be destroying shortly.

Down in Atlantis, every fingernail had been bitten as the members of the resistance monitored the mission from afar.  Sam sat captivated by the telemetry readouts while Nika monitored the comms.  Jeremiah paced nervously back and forth behind Sam and Nika, glancing at the monitors with every pass.

"Ug!  The suspense is killing me!"  Nika nervously tapped a pencil on the desk as the time inched closer to the engagement at what seemed like a snail's pace.

"One minute to go, still looking good!" Ace called out.

Thirty seconds later came a frantic communication.  "Heads up, we've got activity on the ground!" exclaimed Joe Waxie.  Sam's eyes flew open and his heart skipped a beat. This was exactly what the resistance had hoped would not happen.

"What's going on down there, Joe?" asked Ace.

"We've got what looks like a dorsal laser turret swiveling into position.  It's aimed northwest and up high - I assume that would be you!  Look out!"

"I'm almost in range anyway, just a few more seconds... NOW!"

When asked later, neither Ace nor Joe Waxie would be able to say for sure who fired first.  Time seemed to stop for Joe as many things happened at once.  Simultaneously, the air sizzled and cracked as bolts of energy leapt from the turrets of two ships.  One beam came from the Drekon ship on the ground, while twin beams of laser energy shot forth from the Corvette overhead.  In a split second, there was an immense fireball on the front lawn of Parliament House.  The explosion violently shook the building Joe was in, and an overpressure wave coming through the empty window casements knocked him to the floor.  Plaster, dust and paint chips rained down on him.  Had there been any intact windows, he was certain he would have been covered in glass too.

Joe coughed twice, scrambled to his feet and reached for the comm.  "ACE! Come in, Ace!" he screamed hoarsely.

"I'm hit but I'm still here!  Did I get 'em?" came the reply.

"Thank goodness you're okay.  Let me look, there's a lot of dust and smoke..." Joe retrieved his spotting scope, wiped a layer of dust off with his shirt, and trained it on the charred front lawn of Parliament House.  All that he could see was flaming wreckage.  Looking around the site he saw that large and small pieces of debris had been strewn in all directions from the explosion.

"YOU GOT HIM!  'BIG D' is TOAST!" Joe shouted exuberantly over the comm.  Immediately cheers erupted in Atlantis as the resistance listened to the exchange.  Jeremiah was embraced by Midori, and the others were celebrating loudly as well, giving high-fives and handshakes all around.

"That's for Speedy, you bastards!"  He meant to say that to himself, but Nika heard Sam's exclamation and smiled.  She threw her arms around him and hugged enthusiastically.  "We did it, Sam!  We really did it!"



The Phoenixcircled overhead, giving Ace his first view of the wreckage.  The Corvette had taken some damage in the assault, and several systems had gone offline.  There was a smell of something electrical shorting out or burning in the cockpit.  "Uh, guys – I've taken a hit and the nav computer is offline.  Sorry, I don't think this bird is gonna make it all the way back to Atlantis.  So I'm gonna put her down in New Liberty.  Hey, J -tell Brent and Peter that I think the Phoenixis gonna need a little body work done when you guys get back here!  I don't think this is gonna buff out!"

Jeremiah chuckled as he picked up the comm and replied, "You've got it, Ace.  Well done, my boy – well done!"  Beaming, he handed the comm back to Nika.

"What happens now?" she asked.

"I'm afraid it may not be over.  We need to keep a sharp eye out to see if there is any reaction from the Drekons.  And watch for any reinforcements that might show up.  We also need to find a way home to New Liberty as soon as possible.  If any Drekons do come back, we'll need the Phoenix operational", replied Jeremiah.

"I can help you with that", said Hikaru Shidou, the curator of the museum.  "In light of all that's happened, I wish to donate my personal watercraft to you.  The Thrasher is not as big or as fast as the Alyra but it should get you home safely, provided the power grid stays somewhat stable.   It's got a solar backup just in case so you should be fine either way.  The Thrasher is docked outside and it's yours, take it please.   We'll keep the Alyra safe and sound until a replacement fusion plant can be obtained for her.  She'll sail again, tell Captain Nath not to worry!"

"Thank you, Hikaru – we are forever in your debt in more ways than one!"  Jeremiah shook hands with the curator as the resistance members began to pack up their gear and load it on board.  Within 2 hours they were fully loaded and stocked and under way for home.

"And now the cleanup begins...", sighed Hikaru as he looked at the now-empty Great Hall, with one wall blown out and pieces of an empty transparent aluminum case laying on the floor.

As word began to spread around the planet, people were hopeful – but they remained holed up.  The first day after the successful mission, as the 24-hour mark came and went with no Drekon attack, spirits rose.  The second day, marking 48 hours since the last pillage, saw people emerging from their homes and caves and celebrating openly.  Those who had fled to remote areas now began to work their way back home and pick up the pieces in and around their neighborhoods and houses.  Every day that went by without a Drekon reprisal added courage and confidence, and more and more people joined work crews to start the long and arduous task of rebuilding.

Eight days after leaving Atlantis, the resistance members had a joyous reunion with Ace and Joe Waxie in New Liberty.  Crews had already begun clearing streets and running new comm fiber.  Repairs to the solar and fusion plants dotted around the planet had gone well and the power grid was more or less stable, although they would need to rebuild the Antimatter Plant soon to meet the demand.

"Did you guys hear the news?" asked Ace.  "The President has invited us to be honored in a ceremony the day after tomorrow at Parliament House!"  The group was abuzz over this, as they had not heard about it during their voyage.  Sam was just glad to be home, and glad the nightmare was over.  The power was already back on in his neighborhood, and that night he enjoyed a hot meal, shower and a good night's sleep in his own bed for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Two days later, the twelve members of the expedition to Atlantis along with Joe Waxie stood alongside the President, who was on crutches and wearing a cast on one arm.  In front of a crowd estimated at well over one hundred thousand people, all of them received a medal honoring their service to the planet.  Ace and Sam each received an additional award.  Sam received a Meritorious Conduct award for his actions online, keeping their guild alive during the crisis.  Ace was given a Hero of the Republic medallion for his daring combat flight in the ancient fighting ship.

The President next began what would be long remembered as an historic address:



"Fellow survivors of Cestus 3: let me start by saying this: rumors of my demise were, shall we say, a bit premature!"  President Julatsa grinned broadly as the crowd erupted in a standing ovation and cheering that lasted a full minute or more.

"Just like our planet, I may be down but I am not out!"  Laughter greeted this, as she indicated her cast and crutches. 

"On a more serious note", she continued as the crowd died down, "we are here today to celebrate but also to remember.  To honor those who lost their lives, and in their memories to make new promises.  Promises to never again be caught off guard.  Promises to do our duty as your government to protect you, our people.  Promises that should there be a next time, we will be ready!"  More cheers and shouting erupted from the crowd.

"It is worth noting something about the entities called the Drekons.  Never once did they communicate with us.  We attempted on numerous occasions to negotiate with them.  At one point I even authorized a planetary surrender, if they would simply stop killing our people every 24 hours.  Not one word came from their side.  They simply came, and slaughtered, and continued to hurt us every day of their occupation.  We don't know what they wanted, why they were here, or why they chose our planet to invade.  We may never know these things.  This illustrates clearly that their species simply cannot be reasoned with.  But they can and must be defended against!"  A burst of applause followed this.

She continued, "We are signatories to the InterGalactic Treaty, and pledge to our fellow guilds that we will continue to abide by it.  However, we will never again allow ourselves to be conquered by a race that is not party to the treaty.  I am therefore ordering an immediate and massive investment in defense infrastructure, and military spacecraft production, for purposes of self-defense only.  We are truly seekers of peace, but we will also be defenders of our liberty!"  Once again, the crowd went wild.

President Julatsa held up her hands to silence the crowd.  "To this end, I have ordered the construction of shipyards both on the ground and in orbit.  I have also ordered the construction of defense turrets in all major cities.  And I have directed the Cestus Aeronautics and Space Administration to begin work on an orbital defense system.  CASA assures me that they will be able to launch a 'planetary ring' of photon-based defense turrets and ion-powered shields within 18 months."   The crowd erupted into cheering again at this last statement.

"Speaking again to our fellow planetary guilds who are bound by the treaty, I remind you that we will never use these ships or defenses for anything except self-preservation.  As such, I do not believe we are in violation of the treaty.  We will continue to do battle with you only within the confines of the Inter-Galactic Computer-Based Combat System."  With this last sentence, the President looked over at Sam and gave him a quick nod.  He nodded back nervously, still amazed at the proceedings before him.

"Our records indicate that the Drekons have struck before, and will likely strike again.  Next time, it could be your planet.  I strongly urge you to take steps now to ensure the safety of your citizens.  All of us have the right to fight for our survival and way of life when it is threatened by species such as the Drekons.  Do not let them conquer you as they did us.  We all have the right to fight!"  At this, President Julatsa made a fist and raised it in the air, which caused the crowd to explode in a frenzy of cheering.  Chants of  "Ju-lat-sa!  Ju-lat-sa!" began to ring out.  It took a few moments for things to settle down again.

"In closing, I wish to extend a personal and heartfelt apology to the people of Cestus III.  As head of state, I have let you down.  I bear full responsibility for our lack of preparedness.  I've told you how we're going to change, and what we're going to do to be ready should the Drekons decide to pay us a return visit.  We have an enormous amount of work ahead of us.  There is so much to rebuild and so many new things to construct that it will take a concentrated effort on all of our parts to make it happen.  We will pick up the pieces and, like the beautiful and mighty Phoenix, triumphantly rise again from the ashes.  My pledge to you this day is simple.  So simple that it can be stated in just two words.  These words, that from this day on will be our motto in everything that we do:  NEVER AGAIN!"


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[rakkety tam]

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