StarDestroyer.Net BBS

Kiith Somtaaw Flagship Kuun-Lan
New Hiigara

"Tactical," said Lord Naabal. The bridge darkened then became a three dimensional immersive wireframe view of space.



Naabal held up his indicating stick, zooming in on a small pixel above his head and to the right. The pixel became a block, then a rectangle, then a ship. An Imperialist Taiidan Heavy Cruiser, with an escort wing.

"Hail them."

"No response," said Kriil, Naabal's second.

Imperials never surrendered. Naabal sighed. Needless killing. "Bring siege cannon to full charge." The scene zoomed out so Naabal was seeing the Heavy Cruiser from the perspective of the gunnery crews, a tiny highlighted blip.

"Charging siege cannon now," said Kriil.

The deck plating rumbled as the Kuun-Lan turned to face the heavy cruiser. The panoramic shifted by degrees until the blip was directly ahead of the Kuun-Lan.

"Charging complete," said Kriil.

Naabal's eyelids narrowed. "Fire!"

A huge fireball appeared above Naabal's head then streaked towards the blip. The blip flashed blue as the siege shot imploded where the Heavy Cruiser once was...



They were jumping to hyperspace! But they had chased the Heavy Cruiser for weeks, they couldn't have enough power to hyperspace away! Unless...

"Launch all acolytes, ACV's and sentinels now!" A warning siren blared. Below Naabal's feet a blue rectangle materialized then traversed horizontally, revealing more of the Heavy Cruiser's hull with each second. The Heavy Cruiser's guns immediately opened fire as they emerged from the portal. Slow moving red balls of death, each disappearing beneath Naabal's feet signifying impact with the Kuun-Lan's hull.

"Taking minor damage to the secondary hull. All systems stable," said Kriil.

"Did not expect that did you," said Naabal to himself, smirking. The new hull armor upgrades were working perfectly, dissipating the heavy cruiser's energy weapons with reactive efficiency.

Nothing for Naabal do but watch now. The acolyte wings did not need instructions--they flew at right angles, parallel, perpendicular, not letting the Heavy Cruiser's point defense guns target them. Then they launched their missiles. A hundred of them, all at different points, impacting and burrowing into the Heavy Cruiser's hull.



For a minute, there was silence.

Then, all at once, the missiles exploded together. The Heavy Cruiser fired one last whimper against the Kuun-Lan's underbelly, then broke apart into a million fragments.

"All ships returning to hangar," said Kriil.

"How many?"

"None."

"Thank the Holy One," said Naabal, exhaling. "We have lost too many hunting down these Imperalist scum." Naabal looked onward at the five planets of the Somtaaw with pride. Their people had toiled for years after defeating The Beast threat, finally deciding to settle down. They had found lush, inhabitable worlds with the help of the Bentusi. The other Kiith had yet to discover their gems, and now all Somtaaw were moving to the worlds, ready to exploit its treasures. Naabal followed a worker drone hauling an energy crystal for processing. Soon, the Somtaaw would be free of the other Kiith, powerful enough to fend for itself.



Then, all at once, something happened. Everywhere there was blue, and swirling colors and lights. And as if it'd never happened, everything seemed to return to normal. The planets were still there, and the worker ship hauling the crystal. But something was amiss. For one, the sun was brighter. And something else.

"Report," said Naabal.

"My Lord," said Kriil. He stopped, his hands flying across the console. "I am having difficulty ascertaining our position."

"Explain."

"The stars have moved."

"How is that possible?"

"We are no longer in our galaxy."

[/color]

Brian

CEO Arthur watched the data feed, smirking as his forces assaulted the last stronghold of the Galactic Government forces. For over a century these misguided fools had held progress back, but now their time was passed. There was a new government now. One that wouldn't hold back progress and profit. A mighty conglomerate, created by a merger of the largest corporations on the Five Worlds. He had already given his prepared speech to the proletariat that let his company assume command. He was finally able to give the order that he had longed to issue for so long. "Commence Project Epsilon," was all he said.

Project Epsilon was the unveiling of all the new technology that had been developed in the private sector, but kept secret from the humanitarian fools who had been in power. Wormhole jump drives, an instantaneous communication network for the five worlds, state-of-the-art laboratories stocked with the best geniuses in all of Known Space to push the envelope even further. But the pinnacle was the new colony ships. Equipped with quick-fabrication technology, these ships could carry millions of colonists to a new world, and then cannibalize themselves to build a fully functioning colony capable of sustaining hundreds of millions of people, complete with the heavy industry to construct research labs, mines, and shipyards.

The golden age of the Five Worlds was truly at hand. In the next ten years, they would have people living on dozens of different colonies. Technology would advance hundreds of years. They would probably even meet strange alien species. Who knew what possibilities lay ahead of him? No matter what they found out there, Arthur intended for himself and his company to come out on top.

Beyond the Red Line...



"This is Galactica Actual, All hands, set to condition one." came the raspy voice of Commander Adama, the antiquated warship's crew scrambling to their action stations. Fourty vipers in her functioning launch bay awaited deployment, and her twenty four primary turrets shifted to face the oncoming threat.

"Target is.. Three Cylon Basestars, CBDR on our position. All weapons, report ready check."

Galactica cruised slowly forwards, as the Basestars approached under it reactionless drive. Dropping from her star-like prongs, waves of Raiders deployed. They began to close on the lone battlestar. The Viper squadrons launched, holding position between the ships. Hundreds of raiders converged on the position of the fourty year old Battlestar, things looking grim indeed for the outgunned vessel.

Captain Kelly picked up his microphone, clicking on a channel. "All Vipers, weapons free. Weapons free."

"Starbuck here. Wilco, Galactica. Squad, you heard the man. Break and attack!"

The Vipers broke, weapons blazing through the thick formation of automated fighters, heavy slugs tearing through metal. A volley of missiles streaked through the dogfight, into the dense cloud of flak. Two of the missiles struck the armored head of the warship, bright flashes bright as the sun.

Additional fire streaked towards the outnumbered Battlestar, another series of impacts rocking the habitable portion of the warship. "Mister Gaeta. Damage report!" Snapped the XO, looking across his shoulder and then back up to the display.

"Err... Dorsal Radiators are hit, and aft damage control is loosing pressurization. The compartment is being evacuated." Lt. Gaeta reported, calm and fingers working across worn consoles. "Wait... new DRADIS contacts. They're colonial transponders!" he looks up to the command pit.

Adama looked up to the display, as new names appeared under each contact. Atlantia. Pacifia. Triton. Pegasus. Jumping in-system in formation, the four battlestars' turrets swung about. Shells flashed out, and the smokey streaks of missile volleys lashed out and into the surprised basestars.



In moments, all three of the thin star-shaped warships were little more than wreckage, drifting apart in the skies over a grey, lifeless world. The Vipers darted back home, landing as the five warships advanced upon the world. The last of their defenses defeated, the decision was made. Bombardment and annhiliation of those that struck less than a year ago upon the Twelve Colonies, raiding a dozen cities from space, and attempting to sabotage the colonial defense systems with human spies.

It had been a year-long war, and now it was at an end. The Cylon were defeated, and would never be a threat to humanity again. Although the bulk of the Fleet was lost on the extended war, the colonies were victorious. Atlantia took up orbit, as additional cruisers and associated ships appeared over the orbit of the Cylon homeworld. A single voice rang out through the ships of the Colonial Fleet.

"This is Admiral Nagama. All ships.. commence bombardment."

There were no pleas for mercy from the Cylons, and even if there were, none would be heard. Of all twelve colonies, only Saggitaron, Aerelon, Picon, Aquaria and Caprica remained largely undamaged.

As Humanity ended the threat from their creation, a harsh reality began to set in. Confined to twelve worlds in one star system, a race was vulnerable. Only by setting out and finding a new future amongst the infinate stars would they truly be safe again.

One question however, remained unanswered... did we really deserve to live?

Krypton

Krypton was doomed. The planet's core, made largely of radioactive elements, had reached critical mass. Massive tremors wracked the planet's crust, caused by the shockwaves of explosions deep under the surface.

As the Council of Scientists gathered, they finally realised their terrible mistake - Jor El, their brightest light, had been right all along.

They had cast him into the Phantom Zone for drawing on Krypton's power grid to launch his child into space, and now had no way to bring him back. In despair, they cried that he had been their last hope.

Fortunately for them, they were wrong once again.

A crystal plunged down from space and into the Council's Chamber. From it, emerged General Zod, Non, and Ursa. Political dissidents exiled, like Jor-El, to the Phantom Zone by the arrogant and foolish Council of Scientists.

Of course, their arrival was met initially with hostility. Rather than ask how they had escaped the Phantom Zone, they called upon the police to rearrest the General and his command staff.



It was no matter. The mighty General Zod quickly dispatched the guards, using the powers he had obtained under Earth's yellow sun.

"We do not have time for this," he snapped. "Krypton is dying. There is only one escape. Kneel before General Zod, and I will spare your lives."

They blustered, but eventually, all knelt.



Portals to the Phantom Zone opened across the planet Krypton. Many millions of Kryptonians were spared the demise of their world, though some imbeciles chose to stay and die rather than bend the knee to General Zod.

Those who chose to kneel were scattered to five worlds in a distant galaxy, and spent their time rebuilding their civilisation. Much tribute was brought.

Truly, it was the dawn of a Golden Era. The Era of Zod!

One last thing troubled the General. Where had Jor-El gotten to? It was time for him to bow before General Zod...

Proxima
High Council Chambers

High Thinker Vevis looked around at the other Proximians seated with him at the oval table of the council, their faces made eriee by the pale blue light of the phosphorescent crystals that illuminated the room.

This was where the true power was in the Alliance, Vevis knew. The people liked to think that it resided in the Hall of Representatives. Technically it did, but everyone on the High Council had a bloc of representatives who would generally vote as they were told to. Sometimes Vevis wished it were not so, but there it was.

"All right, we all know why we're here," Vevis began. "Recent advances in science have made further expanding the Alliance more practical. Now that we can easily build domed colonies and gravity adjuster modules, we are not restrained to settling upon worlds with a similar atmosphere and mass to Proxima. And now that we're going to be travelling space in earnest, I feel that it is in the best intrest of the PSA to outline our priorities now to keep things organized."

General Xaxin was the first to speak up. "I remind the Council that it is more than possible that hostile alien lifeforms exist out there. I propose rapid colonization. We need buffer room, as much as we can get."

Quqat, the Director of the Economy, added, "Colonization of new worlds will bring a boon to the economy. I suggest increasing the speed of colony ship creation."

Vevis's eyes narrowed. They were in this together, allied at least temporarily to get their goal.

"Cannot make colony ships faster," High Worker Broog piped in. "Would injure space yards, slow down creation in the long run."

Broog was the only Worker on the Council, and he towered over the smaller Thinkers. He served as a constant reminder that it was the Workers whose toil made the plans of the Thinkers possible in the Alliance.

"Wouldn't it be wiser to to focus more on consolidation?" Jerja, the Minister of Science asked. "It would help more in the long run."

"Bah, you just want planets full of evolution chambers," General Xaxin sneered. "But I must worry about protecting our people."

"Gentlemen," Director Quqat said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "All this is mere speculation on our part. The members of the Hall will be the ones who really decide all this."

Oh, Quqat and Xaxin were quite sure that together they had enough influence in the Hall to make their proposal for rapid colonization happen, Vevis realized. And seeing as how neither was a fool, Vevis suspected that they were right. It didn't disturb him. If the core worlds' economies began to suffer from the strain, he could slow down colonization

But for now, full speed ahead.

Mount Orod

The meadow seemed to bask in the light of the warm sun. A young traveller took a moment to savor the feeling. He leaned back against a tree, curiously studying the stunted, flat-topped shape of the long-dormant volcano. Vegetation now grew along its sides, the former wasteland surrounding it now verdant plains.

He closed his eyes for but a moment, but in that moment he felt...pain. Suffering.

Death.

Of course, common legends stated that this was once the site of a great battle, but they were just old wives' tales...weren't they? His eyes snapped open, half-formed images dissolving into mist. He decided it was time to move on. As he got up, his hand pressed against a cool disk of metal. The young man picked it up, his eyes widening. How would a gold ring come to rest here, so far from any villages? He stared at it from some time. It looked rather thin, as if it was almost melted into nothingness, but still shone brilliantly. He felt a compulsion to put it on, but resisted; he would keep it, as a gift for his girl. He was sure she'd find it...precious.


Millennia Later...

The meadow seemed to bask in the light of the warm sun. A young traveller took a moment to savor the feeling. He leaned back against a tree, curiously studying the stunted, flat-topped shape of the long-dormant volcano, a geothermal-powered water reclamation plant capping it almost jauntily. Well-tended farms grew around the base of the mountain. A smoke trail caught the traveller's eye; another colony vessel taking off from the spaceport to the south.


Tirith

Premier Daltonius regarded the man skeptically. "And you're sure this will increase our crop output?"

"Oh yes, sire. I have studied the spells thoroughly, and I believe that the craft is sound."

"Very well. Show me."

The man nodded, smiling. Moving to the lower floor, he began to cast runes, muttering under his breath. A soft glow, barely perceptible, began emanating from markings on the floor; suddenly, a bright blue ring shot out from the center, passing through the walls. Daltonius blinked.

Something had...changed.

An attendant moved forward, an urgent look to his face. He whispered in Daltonius' ear.

The magician looked sheepishly up at the Premier.

"Your spell didn't work," Daltonius said.

"It, er, needs work."

Daltonius fingered the ring hanging around his neck.

"Yes, I daresay it does."

The era of short-lived peace

The vastness of the galaxy stretched out beyond the full height observation window, the starlight softly illuminating the room. A lone figure stood there watching the stars, a glass of red wine in hand, a soft tune resonating in his throat.

The door behind him slid open with a quiet hiss as a younger man entered, his steps mindful of his intrusion.

"Robert, are the dreams and desires of men as far away as these stars before me?"

The young man hesitated, contemplating the other's question in confusion.

"We have fought for our planet for well over a hundred years... and when rewarded with our victory, what does fate deals us? Others that wish to bring pain and hardship upon us. To control us." He paused, taking a sip of wine. "We fly for our freedom Robert, for this I shall gladly lay my life down"

"Captain.. I - " A klaxon roared loudly from the corridor outside the room, interupting his answer. The man at the window smiled, placing his glass on the sturdy ashwood table beside him. He turned, the corridor's light revealing the Captain's face. His rough features, scarred by an old thin wound that run down one cheek.

"Seems that we're not alone this evening.."



The Reiji United Federation is the by-product of a war between a corrupt government and the men and woman who stood against them. Branded as Outlaws or Pirates, these revolutionaries took to the deep reaches of space to plot the freedom and protection of their homeplanet. In the midst of this, a war-like alien race from another galaxy saw this as an opportunity and invaded the planet's system with plans to opress its people into their workforce. The outlaws fought zealously, their superior tactical knowledge and technologically advanced battleships proving their intent to die standing, rather than to live on their knees. The aliens were driven back, heavy casulties on both sides were apparent.

The revolution was sucessful, their homeplanet's government upsurped and the truth was brought forward for all its citizens to see. The now aware populus voted in a new government and the civilisation settled into an era where only peace and honour prevailed. Through the sciences, they discovered that they were not alone in this great galaxy as they had once thought. They once entertained the notion that they would be friendly. Assumptions often lead to disaster.

Kiith Somtaaw Supreme Council Chambers
New Hiigara

"Lord Naabal, you may begin," said the Supreme Chancellor, his identity obscured by a face mask.

"Many thanks High Priest. Our scientists believe we are in a new galaxy. The structure of the galaxy is unusual. We believe the galaxy is partioned into twelve clusters. Star systems are far apart, too far for conventional travel. However there are hyperspace tunnels, and our reconnsiance craft have already traversed three of them," said Naabal.

"What of the Imperialists?" asked the Supreme Chancellor.

"We have detected no Taiidan vessels in three star systems. However it would be foolish to let our guard down."

"Whatever powers brought us to this galaxy are far beyond the abilities of the Taiidan," said the Chancellor.

"That is true. But the Taiidan may be here. There may be other Kiith as well."

"Perhaps we should hyperspace to explore the surrounding star systems," said the Chancellor.

"We could. However the distance between star systems make hyperspace nearly impossible. We cannot even send our smallest probe from one star system to the next with the current energy requirements. So we must use the hyperspace tunnels." Naabal pressed the remote in his hand. A holographic schematic floated in the council chamber. "Our scientists are beginning research into a new weapons system. As you know years ago battling The Beast, the Kiith used crystals to enhance thermonuclear devices. We now believe we can use crystalline technology in our projectile cannons, and given enough time even armor."

"We have heard many proposals of this sort. It is a waste of resources. Crystals are too violatile and I will not have more kiith-sa waste their lives on daydreams."

"I have never failed the Council."

"You have not. Very well, you may begin research. But if a single Kushan loses his life, the project is ceased."

"Yes, Chancellor."

"This... this is a test. Prepare the fleet Lord Naabal. Send scouts and have the Kuun-Lan stand guard about our home system. Our people must be protected."

"Yes Chancellor. We will be ready."

Brian

Enraao System

"Flight control to Recon six," said her flight helmet.

"Recon here," said Fushai. She checked her flight readout. "Distance to target, one thousand kilometers."

"Roger Recon six, Recons one, two, three, four and five forming up alongside. You are flight leader."

"Acknowledged." They were in a new galaxy now in uncharted stars. It was like the dark days all over again. Fushai remembered the long journey, the hunt for The Beast. How the Beast had infected everything in its path. Consumed, destroyed. Fushai had found the Clee-San, the Bentusi, and the Naggarok in the final battle. In those days Fushai checked the duty roster mission after mission, and kept track of her fallen collegues. Long time friends, academy rivals, and even Yura her sister had one by one disappeared. Fushai never asked any questions. They were dead, she was alive, and she had her responsibility.

"This is flight leader, status report," said Fushai.

"Recon one, all systems go."

"Recon two, all systems go."

"Recon three, all systems go."

"Recon four, all systems go."

"Recon five, all systems go."

"I will take point," said Fushai. She glanced at her signal indicators. All green. She flipped her master arm. Always, going through a hyperspace tunnel, Fushai was prepared. She twisted the joystick and pivoted the ship's reactionless drive one hundred and eighty degrees.

The hyperspace conduit accepted her. Whiteness then a hole in the fabric of space itself sucked her vessel in. Fushai relaxed, but only slightly. The currents and eddies of hyperspce soothed her like a cup of hot gurgan. The chances of encountering another vessel in hyperspace were so astromically small that no living Kushan had ever experienced it, but her finger was ready to deploy her thermonuclear weapon in an instant.

She waited. The worst part was the wait. With her commendations and seniority Fushai could have any position in the Kiith, even retire honorably. The Beast was defeated, the Taiidan scattered. But as long as there were enemies, Fushai could not sleep. One day, but not yet.

She let out a breath as her vision was engulfed in void then space. No enemy armada. "Thank you Holy One for another day," she whispered.

"All clear," said Fushai transmitting through the hyperspace conduit. In a few seconds her comrades came through and her radar had five indicators. Other than those, there was nothing. The star system was uninhabited.

"Recon six to flight control, star system is green. I am moving to next hyperspace tunnel."

"Roger Recon six, you may proceed."

Brian

Millenia ago...

A small group of a species that would later be known as Thinkers ran through the dense jungle, desperately trying to escape a deady Zetak beast. Under normal circumstances, a Zetak was only a minor threat, easy to outrun by their kind.

But they had gone without food or sleep for days. The wild beasts of the jungles were being particularly aggressive lately, and their clan had been reduced to only five people.

One of them tripped and fell. The other four stopped quickly to help their fallen comrade, only to have all five of them come face to face with the Zetak, it's razor sharp teeth gleaming in the last light of twilight. They knew they were looking at their doom.

A massive club suddenly came down on the Zetak's head, crushing its skull. As one, the small group of Thinkers looked up at their rescuer. They were amazed at what they saw. The being that had rescued them looked like them, only much larger!

Their rescuer grunted at them, picked up the Zetak's carcass and walked off. The Thinkers held a fast paced conversation between themselves in their still primative tongue, and then set off to follow their savior. He didn't seem to mind.

At least until they made it to their hero's simple camp, where others of his kind (other future Workers), were waiting for him. They didn't want the Thinkers getting too close to their temporary home.

The Thinkers would not be denied, however. They realized that their larger brothers (as they immeditaly thought of them), could protect them. But how was such protection to be paid for?

They saw their chance when they observed one of the Workers attempting, and failing, to crack open a large nut with a club. The Thinkers quickly fashioned a crude hammer out of a tree branch and a rock, offering it to the Worker. He accepted, and upon his having success with cracking open the nut, the Workers allowed the Thinkers into their camp.

Thus began the sybiotic relations between the Thinkers and Workers.

Present day

Vevis was awoken from his sleep by the sound of the emergency summons chime. It was supposed to be used only for extreme emergencies, but if experience had taught him anything, it was that this was not always the case.

"On," he commanded.

The panel in his far wall shimmered and then displayed Dr. Zazik, Head of the Department of Science.

"What is it, doctor?" Vevis asked.

"One of our ships just passed into the system to the west of ours, and preliminary scans picked up ancient ruins on two of the planets there!" Zazik exclaimed. "This is proof of the existance of extra-Proximian life! Who knows what we'll find there when we send down teams to investigate!"

Under other circumstances, Vevis would've been interested, but the only thing he was interested in at the moment was his pillow. "Does any immediate action need to be taken?"

Zazik blinked dumbly. "No."

"Then good-night, doctor," Vevis said, and cut the communication.

"So that's the last of them?"

"Yes, General Zod."

Zod stood in his audience chamber, his throne rising up behind him like an altar. Before him, three Kryptonians knelt, one wearing the dress of the Council of Scientsts, former ruling body of Krypton. The others were his wife and child.

The General frowned slightly, in disappointment. "Councillor For-Han, you have been found guilty of treason against your ruler, General Zod. There is but one penalty for this."

Ursa glided up beside him and whispered in his ear. He nodded slightly in response. Brilliant energy burst from his eyes, and the Councillor and his wife were incinerated in an instant.

The child screamed, and attempted to flee, but Ursa flew across the chamber and grabbed her arm.

Ursa did ever so love flaunting her powers.

She took the child away, trying to sooth her fears despite the trauma she had just witnessed. It didn't seem to be working, but the child would learn to be quiet soon enough. Ursa would see to it.

"You have done well, Nam-Ek. Your secret police are well led."

Nam-Ek stiffened at the praise and bowed. "Thankyou, my General. They have a presence on all five of our worlds. There will be no more discontent. The people will gladly give their lives in tribute."

"Unidentified vessel at 2000 clicks, closing rapidly"

"Signal them, we're not here for a fight.."

"No response... Captain, they're powering up weapon systems"

"Flanking manuevers, 20 degrees to starboard.. main guns to bear, 10 degrees the vertical. Prep the fighters, close defensive formations. Continue to signal them on all channels, make sure they understand our intentions are peaceful but we will return fire if provoked."

The bridge suddenly hummed with an echoing sound as the bulkheads vibrated with resonance. A bridge clerk swivelled on his seat towards the Captain.

"Agressive sonar detected Captain" He annouced "They're loading shells now" He began a passive scan of the area.

"Captain, torpedoes are inbound for the Justice. 1000 clicks and closing. 10 seconds to impact."

"Launch countermeasures" the Captain was calm, his orders repeated through his first officer. "All hands brace for a near miss"

The next few seconds were filled with sound of the snapping of safety harnesses. The Captain stood regardless of the imminent danger, his eyes glued to the image of the attack vessel on the frontal visual display.

The ship shook strongly as the enemy torpedoes detonated off the bow below the battleship Justice. The enemy vessel closed in for a concentrated barrage from its frontal cannons.

"Enemy vessel is preparing to fire at short range head on!"

The Captain grinned as if he had expected the ploy. He outstretched his right arm and flung it aside. His crew waited upon his following orders with loyal patience.

"Prepare for emergency blow, jettison midriff and aft hatch compression on my mark. Center the main guns, 25 degrees the vertical"

The crew hurried with its preparations, a yeoman announced the manuever to the rest of the ship.

The enemy's weapons lit up as it prepared to fire. Squinting his eyes, the Captain paused before his next order.

"Mark!" He flung his arm down to his side.

With the order, the battleship known as the Call of Justice lurched violently forward and upwards. Its aft pivoted upwards as it climbed above the enemy vessel. The Justice's bow now faced downwards, its main 6 guns pointed directly at its agressor. The attack passed harmlessly underneath, two streams of yellow light powered forwards, trailing into nothingness.

"Main cannons. FIRE!"

The Justice shuddered as its powerful guns blasted forth into the enemy vessel at almost point blank range. The white beams of accelerated mass tore through the smaller vessel instantaneously, causing massive internal explosions. Within seconds, the vessel was ripped apart, its explosions reducing its body to debris.

"Target silent." The radar clerk reported. "Nothing on scanners in short or long range."

"Stand down alert" The Captain turned and briefly walked from the room. "Find out who we just defeated and file me the report within the timeset."

Soomtaw Mothership - Kuun-Lan, Research Module

"Lord Naabal," said Praxta. "I have something to show you."

"Is it regarding the crystalline technology?"

"No. Something of a far more practical nature." Praxta pressed a button and a platform raised in the center of the room with a small dome. The dome retracted into the platform. There was a small oval shaped squid the size of a man, its metallic tentacles twisting about.

"That is merely a leech," said Naabal.

"No, not merely a leech." Praxta pressed another button, and a pole extended from the ground with a circular bulb at its end. The leech floated in midair, circled the pole, and fired. It dove to the side, and fired again. Then it pivoted, and fired again. It did this from above and below, from a dozen angles.

"Impressive. How quickly can you convert the remainder of our leech fleet?" said Naabal.

"Nearly immediately."

Brian

"High Thinker! High Thinker!"

Vevis looked at General Xaxin in surprise. He had never seen the officer this flustered before. "What is it, General?"

"The Arrowgrass-class scout that we sent to the galactic north, it found abundant alien life in the Girak system!" General Xaxin said. "Five worlds with billions of people each. Preliminary scans indicate that they people are roughly on par with us technologically."

"What do we know about these people?" Vevis asked.

"Not much yet, sir," Xaxin replied. "They call themselves the Stellar Imperium Collective, appear to be natives to methane gas giants, and unlike us they utilize non-living technology. Sir, I recommend an immediate military buildup."

"That would interrupt the colonization programs," Vevis pointed out, somewhat amused that Xaxin wanted to terminiate his own program. "Besides, if they've got any common sense they'll be friendly, at least for the moment. Making war on one's next door neighboors would only serve to curtail progress."

Prime looked out over Cybertron with pride. Finally, after millions of years of war, there was peace. Finally, Autobot and Decepticon worked side by side to rebuild the once great Cybertronian Union. Prime was flanked by two of his longest serving sodliers, Ironhide and Blur. They watched as work was done, new ships being built to acquire the resources Cybertron so desperately needed to rebuild itself and repair the masses of damaged transformers that still littered the planet. One of the foremen in particular caught Ironhide's attention.
"Ah don't laahk et Prahme," said Ironhide in his distinctive accent "I don't trust that deceptifreak as far as I can throw him."
"He renounced the Decepticon cause when Megatron was destroyed. Now he wishes to help rebuild Cybertron, what would you have me do with him?" asked Prime, calm and steady as ever.
"Wellyoucouldtakehimoutintodeepspaceandejecthimtowardsasunorcometifyou-"
"Not an option Blur. We don't kill unless we have to." Prime cut Blur off (which was something Blur had almost come to expect when he talked). "I have other work to do, as do you two. I will see you at our next maintenance checks." The two ex soldiers nodded their affirmation as all three transformed and moved off in the direction of their respective duties.

When they were all gone, the foreman stopped for a while. In a monotone voice, heard only in the mind of the recipient of the message he gave an order.
"Mission: Observe and report. Execute".

There was a barely perceptible engine sound as something flew off overhead.

"High Thinker, I strongly recommend that we take action against this Stellar Imperium," General Xaxin said. "The fact that they have no responded to our offer of friendship--"

"Could just mean that there was a problem with the interstellar communication," Vevis cut him off. "I see where you're coming from, General, but starting a war with them with hugely curtail our expansion right now. I will send another message. If they ignore this one as well, then we can begin to build more defenses."

Da'Xahosho System
Recon Two

"Leader check your five."

"Would you take a look at that."

"Get on the horn to command."

[/color]

"Lord Naabal, news from the reconssiance flights. We have encountered alien homeworlds," said Praxta.

Naabal paused. Taiidan, or other Kiith?

"Who are they."

"Not Taiidan or Kiith. They call themselves the Malakari Limited Liability Corporation."

Naabal let out a breath. "What do we know of these Malakari," said Naabal.

"It appears they are a totalitarian capitalist society. Their corporations overthrew the elected government nearly a year ago admist a recession and instituted sweeping social and economic reforms to the detriment of the ordinary man," said Praxta.

"So they are evil."

"It would appear so."

"Order the reconnsiance flights to continue as previously ordered. Reroute defense frigates to their space," said Naabal.

"Yes my lord."

Soomtaw Supreme Council Chambers[/color]

"Lord Naabal, is it true you your reconssiance flights have encountered another Great Enemy?"

"It is premature to tell. They have made no hostile moves."

"We cannot allow them to amass a fleet and invade our space. We must revive the mimics."

"The mimics," said Naabal slowly. Sending pilots to their deaths with ships full of explosives, insanity. "It is not yet necessary."

"Nevertheless, you are to begin training mimic pilots at once. Should another Holy War erupt, the mimics must do their holy duty."

"Yes, Supreme Chancellor."

Brian

CEO Arthur sat in the boardroom, listening to some hawkish idiot making bullshit projections about how many ships these Somtaaw are likely to have and how long it would be before they could invade and conquer them.

"I'm going to have to cut you off right there," Arthur interjected. The man raised his eyebrows in surprise. Normally a CEO would be more subservient to shareholders, but the man had to remind himself that Arthur was now in command of the government, and could have any of them killed on a whim. "These projections contain more assumptions than facts. Going to war with a completely unknown power when all we have to go on are three scouting ships is lunacy of the highest order. I've already sent these Somtaaw a trade agreement treaty. We'll trade with them, build their trust, and feel them out. And if we decide at that time that we have a shot at seizing their assets, and if those assets are worth the effort, AND if it's worth forgoing trade, THEN I'll start listening to invasion strategies. Until then, it's just mental masturbation."

He turned to another shareholder, changing the subject. "Now, Mr. Klin, you were going to bring up the refinery contracts..."

Raptor 324, on Deep Patrol...



"Orders confirmed, Picon. Raptor 324 beginning jump prep. See you in a few hours. Gasline out."

The dark shape of the Colonial Raptor flickered for a moment, blue and red shift meeting along the center of it's small hull, and the ship vanishing from the edges of the Colonial system.

Minutes later, it would reappear in a distant star system. Immediately, the two-person crew began their long range sweeps.

"Beginning sweep. Single star system... several planets and asteroid f--- DRADIS Contact! Frack, make that multiple contacts, incoming!" cried the EWO. The pilot jinked left, as two red-painted rocket craft streaked by, vanishing with their faster-than-light engines. The Raptor slid without engine power, then kicking the main thrusters. "Send a message, now! Unidentified Craft are entering Colonial Space..."

Da'xahosho I
Recon Mk. I - 5

"Command, entering standard orbit," said Fushai.

"Acknowledged."

"High concentrations of metals, plant life and uranium. Oxygen atmosphere. One standard gravity," said Fushai. There was a beep. "Command, I am receiving a faint reading from the planet's surface. It appears to be a power source. I am investigating."

She pivoted the reconssiance vessel to face the planet. She punched and pressed switches. The planet closed then loomed and the reconssiance vessel's heat shield lowered. In five seconds the heat shield detached, and she was in the atmosphere. Mountain ranges, rivers and a glittering ocean along with a carniferous forest filled the viewscreen.

"Command." Fushai pressed a few more buttons. "Command!"

Buuuuzzzzzz...

The cockpit shook. The ship descended. Fushai pressed button after button, transferred all power to the engines, but it was no use. The vessel was going down, and nothing she could do about it.

The forest loomed. Fushai said her prayers and thanked the Holy One. Her eyes were open--she wanted to see this. Then the forest was point blank, but instead of the ship impacting with rock she was in a cavern. The vessel set down on a marked landing pad with spotlights and hundreds of beings and heavy weapons aimed at Fushai. She saw what was bringing her craft down, a tractor beam emitter.

She could explode the thermonuclear warhead and kill them all.

Her button lingered on the master arm.

She was close to the ground. There were small ones.

Small ones.

Children.

Fushai released her finger from the trigger and flipped the safety.

Clunk!

Fushai got out of the ship. In front of her were dozens of heavily armed humanoids, with a man in front wearing a blue and gold tunic. He had grey hair and his fingers were wrinkled.

It took many days before Fushai even understood the rudimentaries of their language. They learned Kushan word by word, aided by a special disk carried by all Somtaaw in case of alien encounters. After a month Fushai could speak with Garen.

"Your people call Somtaaw?" said Garen.

"Yes," said Fushai.

"Your people... our people," said Garen. He opened his arms.

"Yes," said Fushai smiling.

Another month went by and Fushai taught them more Kushan, until they were fluent enough to speak in more than baby words.

"The Somtaaw and Galactic Government share many of the same values," said Garen.

"So you say," said Fushai.

"Here is information your leaders will find useful. CEO Arthur is a brutal dictator who will stop at nothing but profit. Look around you. The refugees, exiled and herded in here. Arthur does not know of our sanctuary yet, but he will find out. When he does he will enslave us all."

"Why?"

"We have not paid our taxes."

"Tax?"

"The common man owes the government tax."

"Atrocious," said Fushai.

"You will bring this to your leaders?"

"If you will shut down your jamming field, I will send it immediately. It would take a year otherwise."

"If the jamming field is gone, Arthur will immediately know we are here. But we cannot wait a year. We need your people's help Fushai."

Somtaaw Mothership Kuun-Lan
New Hiigara, Standard Orbit

"Lord Naabal, word from the frontier," said Praxta.

"This vessel has been missing for months," said Naabal.

"It is authentic, the codes are accurate," said Praxta.

Lord Naabal read through the report. Fushai was one of his best, and she would not exagerrate. If she said this Arthur was a menace to the galaxy, he would be.

"It appears your instincts were right. Fushai has made contact with elements of the overthrown government," said Naabal. "I will speak with the High Council at once. We cannot trust this Arthur."

"What of Fushai's request for aid?"

Naabal paused. "Fushai would not make this request lightly, and if she trusts these people we will do our holy duty. Reroute all ships to Da'xahosho One and have them prevent Arthur's people from landing or attacking the planet. They have my blessing to take any action against intruders."

"At once Lord Naabal."

Brian

The actions of these Kushans made no sense. Why would they so brazenly risk war with an unknown enemy so soon, and for a bunch of refugees? It was no matter. The refugees were not important. Expansion was important, and he would not war with these fools while someone else swooped in and stole all the good planets.

"Get me the head of Intelligence," Arthur ordered, and waited a few seconds to be patched through. "Take care of the refugees. Use plague. Make it look natural." Arthur terminated the connection without waiting for a "yes sir."

Two problems solved. The refugees would be dead and war was averted. Business could continue as usual.

Somtaaw Supreme Council Chambers

"So these refugees, you say they require assistance?"

"Fushai is one of my greatest warriors. She is never in error," said Lord Naabal. "And she says these people are honorable."

"Nevertheless, the Somtaaw do not interfere in the affairs of other--" The Supreme Chancellor glared as a Kushan rushed in and handed Lord Naabal a data pad.

"Chancellor, many apologies, but there is news from the Da'xahosho system. The refugees have contracted a plague."

Naabal paused.

"It is our holy duty to assist those in need," said Lord Naabal.

"You tread on thin crystal. Do not presume to tell us what is holy and what is not. We will determine this."

"My apologies Supreme Chancellor. I will have Fushai withdraw at once," said Naabal bowing.

"However--the planet has great potential. How many vessels can you have in orbit of it?"

"I can redirect the third reconassiance wing."

"See to it then. You have our blessing to protect these refugees and secure the planet. However make no aggressive moves against these Malakari. Unless they approach Da'xahosho Prime, you are not to engage them."

"Yes Chancellor." Naabal took a breath. "The Malakari will not take kindly to us establishing a forward base in their home system."

"Then do not, for now. Secure the planet and the Council will decide what is to be done with this matter."

Brian

Another first contact, and along with it came the expected warning from General Xaxin along with encouragement to seek trade from Director Quqat. Vevis found himself leaning toward Xaxin this time.

The alien scout that the Arrowgrass0002 had encountered was just so...alien. True, the Stellar Imperium did not use organic tech like the PSA, but the PSA knew of mechanical technology, as they had a few small pieces of it amid their living machines. But this ship...their scientists couldn't even take a guess at what made it work.

Or perhaps it was the haunting symbol of a huge, burning eye on the alien ship's hull that gave Vevis a chill.

In any case, he couldn't let such a small thing deter him from seeking peace from seeking peace with these people. History would never say that High Thinker Vevis had started a war unneccesarily if he had anything to say about.

He opened a channel to the Arrowgrass ship, ordering it to relay an offer of non-aggression to the alien scout.

"Premier! We have contact with alien vessels!"

Premier Daltonius looked up sharply. "This is unprecedented. They have never shown before now?"

"No, sire. It is most unusual."

"Who are they?"

"The Proxima Symbiotic Alliance on our eastern front, and the Kiith Somtaaw Clan on our western front."

"Any communications from either?"

"A treaty proposal from the PSA."

Daltonius considered. "Accept it. We need time to fortify our defenses. What of the Kiith?"

"Nothing yet, sire."

"Contact them."

"Yes, sire."

First Kryptonian in Outer Space. First Kryptonian in Outer Space. First Kryptonian in Outer Space.

The phrase ran through his mind like a mantra. Dra-Kel breathed out, slowly. This was it. No more waiting.

He checked his systems one more time while he waited for the launch codes.

Life Support: Check.
Rocket Boosters: Check.
Weapons: Check.
Fuel: Check.

Dra-Kel tugged on his flight harness to make sure he was securely strapped into the command chair. His hands danced over the console, checking subsystem readiness.

The holophoto of General Zod caught his eye. Taken at his graduation from Krypton's Space Academy, it showed the General and himself shaking hands. It was the vision of the General that had led him here, to this moment, this history-making moment.

"Control to Space Ranger One. Report status."

He keyed his mic. "Space Ranger One. I'm ready to launch, Control."

"For Zod. Five. Four. Three. Two. One."

"For Zod!"

Dra-Kel pulled back on the throttle. Fuel pellets poured into the fusion reactor, underwent an incredible transformation. Acceleration slammed him into the command chair as his rocket ship leapt into the sky.

Minutes passed while his ship roared. And then, suddenly, the sky fell away, and he was blasting through space, the light of the triple stars and the soft glow of his instrument panels the only illumination.

I am Dra-Kel. I am the first Kryptonian in Outer Space. And I have a plan.

"Space Ranger One to Control. I am ready to approach the alien craft, and have begun transmitting the greeting from General Zod."

"Control. You are go, Space Ranger One. Zod would like you to know he is watching and will not tolerate failure."

It was hoped the alien craft would be reasonable. Images recorded by the unmanned rocket ships currently exploring the neighbouring systems had indicated the craft were crewed by pilots that appeared Kryptonian. Perhaps an offshoot race?

Dra-Kel was not expecting a hostile response. The aliens had not yet fired upon any of the Kryptonian ships. If this changed suddenly, though, Dra-Kel was ready for it.

Space Ranger One was not only the first manned Kryptonian rocket ship. It was also the first armed rocket ship....