Rebirth (Original-Free Federation)

[Imperial Overlord]

The Senate
Sandresha
The Free Federation

Guards in field grey and gold stood at attention in corridors with lustrious red cedar panelling as ministers and their deputies moved passed them. Joining them were senior military and Security Directorate officials. They passed through the last set of doors and into the meeting room. They took their places around a long wooden table with a golden holosphere projector. Most of them had arrived.

"What is so urgent?" grumbled Fleet Admiral Charven. He was a heavyset, dark haired human wearing the sky blue dress uniform of the navy.

"All in do time," said Security Minister Kast. Kast was a short, plain man who under other situations might be mistaken for an accountant. "You know how the president hates important conversations starting without him."

President of the Senate Collum Solem entered, attended by small flurry of aides and plain clothed guards. The most powerful man in the Free Federation, a man with over a trillion Stars in assets and holdings in half a dozen large corporations. He was handsome (and considering how much his looks cost him that was only proper), silver haired, and immaculately dressed in a dark suit. He took his spot at the head of the table. "What is so important?" he said brusquely.

Security Minister Kast turned to his deputy minister. "Mister Rhodan?"

The slight man cleared his throat and stood. "Yesterday, standard time, the Directorate headquarters on Nahasses was breached by a lone attacker. Casualties were light and twelve social criminals of middling importance were removed from our custody. There were no shortage of witnesses to these events, the importance of which I will get to in a moment. These are image captures of the perpetrator." The holosphere activated and displayed a series of images of Daemonwulf.

"Who is that?" asked Finance Minister Brocchan. The bactrian kordassi wore essentially a fancy wetsuit, which kept the amphibian's skin moist while duplicating the style of a formal tunic and pants.

"Daemonwulf," said Rhodan. "Legate of the Black, believed to be likely to have been killed during the holding action at Sherhall."

"In brief," said the president. "For those of us that don't study history."

"Of course, Mister President. Taken as a prisoner during the Tumak Offensive, age twelve. Family killed, displayed magical abilities, selected as subject for crystalline personality engram projector implants, and inducted into the Slaver Lords. Served as one of Daemonstraum's chief warlords during the last two hundred years of the war, survived repeated confrontations with Lord Kail, backed Kadeastraum's ascension after Daemonstraum's death. Captured ten years after the end of the war. Implants removed and personality reconstruction was successful. Served honourably during the Resurgency and joined the Black during the civil war."

"So he's strong?"

"A legion killer. In the top ten of the most powerful Slaver Lords ever. Mister President, this man leads from the front and destroys entire armies single handily. He is not known for restraint. The only reason Directorate headquarters on Nahasses is intact, is because he chose not to destroy it."

"Why do you believe he did not?" Solem asked.

"Sir, both Lamech and Daemonwulf have made appearances, allowed themselves to be recognized, and used minimal amounts of force to achieve very minor goals. This is radically different from the way the Black have fought every war on record. They have forfeited surprise and they taken great risks for minimal gain. This only makes sense if their strategy and tactics have changed."

"Continue," said Solem.

"What is the overall effect of their interventions? They have spread the word they are back, they have insured witnesses both within and outside the security forces, they have proven they can strike where they wish, and that even comparatively minor polit- social criminals will draw their attention and intervention. Running throughout this is the common thread of state impotence. Their attacks are designed to make this government and all of its branches appear impotent. They are manufacturing a perception of weakness. Combine that with the unpopularity of this government in certain sectors and you have a full scale insurrection."

"Why would they change tactics?" asked Senator Alyssa Vines. She was a tall, stately woman that managed to look a beautiful twenty do to massive and regular sorcerous reconstruction and rejuvenation efforts.

"They do not have the capability to wage war in their traditional manner," replied Rhadon. "Bluntly put, they are a bunch of exiles with a limited population base and industrial resources persecuting a war far from wherever they ended up. They have neither the fleet nor the troops to engage us directly. Since they cannot conquer, they intend to cause the state to collapse and then emerge as the dominate force in the chaos of the aftermath."

"What kind of resources can we realistically expect them to possess?" asked Vines.

"This is a difficult question. During the Slaver War a program was initiated to create an emergency bolt hole or holes. Ships were sent into the dark with the necessary equipment and supplies to begin developing distant stars."

"So why don't we know about them?" asked Sencassa Nassril, a powerfully built sithi with one in every four scales dyed bright red.

"In order to maintain secrecy, the project was entirely Nazarian," replied Rhadon. "Nalhen simply requested the money and then no one who was not Chosen ever knew anything about it. No record, no senate inquiry, nothing. As to the next question, no, we don't know how much was sent or when. Since the civil war ended nearly four hundred years after the end of Slaver War, the infrastructure that could have been built by a ship full of Chosen supervised Von Neumann machines is considerable. The size of the refugee population, which has had five hundred years to grow, places a more realistic limit on their size and capabilities. Energy emissions are concern, but there are solutions to those problems. At worst, say two dozen fully developed star systems and some additional colonies."

"The Chosen?" Vines asked.

"A mark of Nalhen's favor. Most Free Federation legates, the Nagazar, the Executioners, the Valkyrie, certain prominent advisers and so on and so forth. People he deems particularly valuable."

"Enough trivia," said Solem. "What do you propose to do about this?"

"Ahh," said Kast, "we have taken a study and essentially propose that naval ship building continue and that the army double its number of strike legions to two hundred and increase the amount and quality of arcanetech and sorcerous support. As for the Security Directorate, we imagine a more drastic change. My deputy minister has the exact details."

Rhodan produced a flimsy. "Our essential problems are maintaining military superiority and dealing with surprise strikes. In lieu of sufficient on hand forces, strikes with orbital weapons can shift situations in our favor at the cost of some collateral damage. As an alternative we can take a page from history and train and deploy reaction squads. With arcanetech enhancement and gear, as well as organic sorcery support, such teams can teleport nearby crisis incidents and reinforce the elements on hand."

"That's going to cost," said Vines.

"Indeed. Fortified teleporter complexes must be set up on every world, but fortunately they already exist in most places. There must be teams on standby at all times to directly intervene and hold out at least until reinforcements arrive. Necromancer surgeons are needed for the surgery to keep the patient alive as the maximum augment loads are exceeded, sorcery engineers must construct the spell wiring, orichalcum blades, and other implants as well as the personal shields, disruptors, devastator rounds, runic armour plates, and so on and so forth."

"Sounds expensive," said Solem.

"It will be. We'll also have to screen applicants, account for surgery and recovery time, training time for augmentation and gear and then working together as a team. Massive numbers of sorcerer man hours will be needed to construct the augments and do the surgeries, of course, and we'll need sorcerers on the teams. Fortunately a fair amount of the equipment does exist in the armouries, so the expenditure in that area will be less extreme."

"So we recreate Darkhold's lords and their warrior elite," said Charven. "That's not a solution." Cold stares pinned Kast.

"That has been considered," said Rhodan. "The mind probe will allow for psychological and ideological screening as well as allowing us to reinforce their feelings of loyalty. They will be loyal to this nation and this government. We need have no fears of a new Darkhold."

"How many?" asked Solem.

"Fifty thousand in the first batch, including ten thousand for use as hunter-killers. Ten thousand of the total will be war trained sorcerers and yes, we don't have that many floating around. We'll be drafting a number of retirees on the basis of emergency. They should start being ready towards the end of a year. Until then stop gaps involving D-locks, emergency response teams, and bombardment weaponry should enable us to hold the line. Certain forces already possess this level of readiness we intend for the reaction teams, including the Senatorial Guard, so the government is protected from direct attack and is doubtless why they have declined to do so."

"Campaigning will be a bitch," said Vines.

"We'll suspend the next round of elections," said Solem. "The Liberals will bitch, but they'll be brought into a unity government so they'll be willing to live with it. Kast, you have a go, but I want to be certain those agents will be ours, body and soul. I'm not kissing Zerakis the Second's boots."

"Yes, Mister President," said Kast. Deputy Rhodan bowed and concealed a smile.

[Ford Prefect]

This story feels as though it has a huge amount of history behind it, which is excellent.

[Imperial Overlord]

This story feels as though it has a huge amount of history behind it, which is excellent.

It does, around 25,000 years or so.

[Imperial Overlord]

North America
Terra
United States of America

Varidan Reeze awoke. He was naked, hanging upside down from hooks through his ankles. He couldn't move at all. Sastrana was hanging next to him. He could see nerve blocker spikes driven into her spine with wires connecting it to a harness.

"Witch Hunter Overcommander Varidan Reeze," a voice wheezed. The Slaver Lord was an average looking guy, dark hair and olive skin. He was wearing dark red soft armour under an adamantium breastplate, Collar of Thorns, and the bladed arm plates known as an amulet harness. A red crystal glowed softly in its setting in an adamantium ring. "You'll forgive the voice, I'm still regenerating."

"Die screaming," Reeze replied.

"I'll pass. Interesting that you should mention that, because breaking you will be my task. Won't bother with the mind probe against those wonderful Witch Hunter blocks, not until you're in a much more talkative mood."

"All your days are numbered, Slaver trash. You fucked up from the beginning. Kail lives. Kalhen lives. Lamech lives. Kain lives. And Incaradine lives. There is nothing but death and dust in your futures."

"Nicely said, but you're the one hanging naked upside down. I won't start on you yet though. Your under officer gets the privilege of going first. Don't worry, you're wired to her through a sense link. You'll not only get a first hand view, you'll get to feel everything."

Reeze bolted awake. "Bad dream?" Sara asked. The vampire was in the driver's seat.

"Yeah. Old memories."

"The war?"

"Yeah, the Resurgency."

"My father fought in it. Assault Recon for the Fire Dragons. Didn't say much about it, other than what Incaradine gave the Slaver Lords was too good for them."

"Maybe," said Varidan Reeze, "maybe. Look, I don't want to talk about it."

"Sure," she said. "But you're looking to fight now, right?"

"I lead good men and women to their deaths for the Free Federation," he said. "I got my fill of slaughter and I walked away. Now an abomination sits in its place. I never chose a side, but now that's easy. It's not like I have anything left to lose."

"Wife? Kids?"

"Both dead. I'm a quarter Alpha, my wife pure bred Terran. My aug and rejuv rating is high. My kids . . . . no one should be outliving their kids."

"Why not go back to the Fed? It wasn't as bad then."

"Sure, except they were Americans and by then it was easier to hold your head high as an American than as a Free Fed. I take it your minds are already made up."

"Yeah," she said. "Our kin and allies or a bunch of would be tyrant oligarchs. Not a hard choice."

"How do you think the American Government will handle it?"

"If they see and opportunity to kick the Whites in the balls and get away with it, they'll take it. That goes double for the Russians."


Super Dreadnought Sun Eater
Deep Space
Near Free Federation Space


Celene bent over the table, wincing and slowly shaking her head. She took a deep breath and stood up.

"Again?" asked Cazerin. The black haired woman wore the bladed armour of a Zarkos Elvindar prince, although she was not Elvinder. Standing behind her was a blonde man with a curved blade slung over the back of his shadowcloth trench coat and black leather uniform.

"Yes," Celene replied.

"It's happening more frequently isn't it?"

"Yes," the Imperator replied.

"Well, that could be a good thing right? If its because of him."

Celene smiled. "Yes, but only if its him. You had best call a meeting soon and elect my successor."

Cazrin nodded. "No one will like that."

"War's like that. Are you ready to be cut loose?"

"Yeah. What's that expression? 'chomping at the bit?' I'm ready. My parents aren't too happy about it. It's not like this is my first time fighting the White. Hell, I killed by the time I was sixteen and I'll have Vain. He'll die before he let's a hair on my head get harmed."

The blonde man smiled. "I'm sure he will," said Celene, "but sending your children off to war is never easy."

"That why you never had any?"

"No, we never had any because of what happened to his first children. We were beginning to talk about the possibility, but the Resurgency happened first."

"Sorry."

"Old wounds, child of my heart. Old wounds. The White, as bad as they are, are nothing compared to the Slaver Lords. They only did the damage they did by convincing Free Federats to fight for them. And now all their days are numbered."

[Imperial Overlord]

Terinar Construction Platform
Terinar System
Nazar in Exile

Black uniformed Free Federation spacers gave fist to heart salutes as Grand Admiral Arelan Sus-Elararian passed. Twice Chosen, the supreme commander of the Grand Alliance Fleet's reputation was unmatched among the living. He had engineered the victories over New Jerusalem's genocidal surprise attack during the Resurgency and delaying action and retreats that allowed so many to safely reach exile at the end of the Civil War.

Those were his greatest, most important victories and they were ash in his mouth. He had defected from New Jerusalem's military for good reasons, but that did not mean he relished the destruction of the nation of his birth and the Civil War against the White had ultimately lead to defeat. He returned the salutes and continued on his way through the platform.

The Terinar Platform was old, but well maintained. It had been waiting in orbit around this cold gas giant for them when they had arrived after the long journey, although it had only been two thirds its current size. Vast storage tanks held water, hydrogen, and oxygen for the arriving refugees. Store room after store room of food was ready for the hungry and bay after bay of hydroponics awaited to create more. Empty living quarters waited to be filled and dormant robots awaited orders. Nearby asteroids provided an vast amount of raw materials for its factory complexes as did the ice rings and cometary belt.

A Dark Guard kill team in rune inscribed power armour saluted as they passed. The Free Federation soldiers all bore the Dedication Scar, a self inflicted wound running from above their right eye to just above their lips. Disruptors, rune blades, witchfire cannons, enhanced beam rifles, and gauss guns with specialty ammo made up the majority of squad's armament. They were among the deadliest killers in human history, soldiers who's very names had once been synonymous with invincibility. The Civil War had killed the legend, but not the Legion.

At last he came to his destination. A captain in the dark green and gold of the Nazarian Navy saluted and approached. "Come to see the launch Grand Admiral?"

"Yes."

"We didn't think you would make it."

"I made time." He walked down to the gallery of viewing windows. Before him was the lean and murderous shape of a Reaper class battlecruiser. The dagger shaped vessel was two kilometers long with and covered adamantium armour plate, the ship's parent design the Reaver could kill any vessel in the Terrani navy even without raising her formidable shields. The Reaper was designed to turn her progenitor into scrap.

More senior officers made way for the Grand Admiral. Sus-Elararian indicated to Overcommander Strel that she should continue. "Would you do the honours, Grand Admiral?"

"As you wish," he replied. The coms woven into his suit activated and carried him on the station to ship channel. "Dutiful Daughter, you are cleared to launch. May you dwell perpetually in Death's shadow."

"Affirm Grand Admiral. May She guard you always."

Heslin City
Tatrama
The Free Federation

Eva smiled at the senior exec and extended her hand. Serluhlar Helthith took it, his scales rasping against her skin. The elderly sithi wore a gold comp harness over his scales. "Your proposal was quite intriguing Miss Morin."

"Thank you sir," the blonde replied brightly.

The sithi maneuvered his bulk back to his couch. Helthith's office included a gorgeous view of the city, complete with the setting sun. The window was polarized armourplex and almost invulnerable. From five hundred meters up, the city looked pretty small. "Shall we skip the preliminaries and get right to business?"

"My pleasure sir." She sat down on a chair compatable with human anatomy opened up her valise, which triggered the holo display. A star map flickered to life. "Your business is spread over nearly forty star systems and is growing. You need a number of different commercial craft to suit your needs and Transtream Transportation can see to it that those needs are met at an affordable cost. Everything from oar haulers to VIP shuttles, although we specialize in the higher end. How that matters to you is that what your really need to grow your business is investment and favorable tax incentives. That means you're going to want to move a lot of important people around and make sure that they see what you want them to see while having favorable memories of dealing with your company. This is the area where Transtream can be the most help."

[Imperial Overlord]

Sestan Station
Seheneth System
The Free Federation


Sestan Station was a slim cylinder with docking arms projecting from the middle. Two cruisers, their one point two kilometer long steel hulls painted flat grey, are docked with the arms. The blade shaped warships rest like swords in their scabbards as their crews enjoy R&R and the ships are resupplied.

Captain Noshen Chromac activated his mike. Traffic control as Sestan Station was pretty easy, there wasn't much of it and the computer pretty much handled everything for him. It was easy duty, but dull. He stifled a yawn and signaled a confirmation for docking clearance from a system shuttle.

A brilliant blue beam shot from the shuttle and tore into the rear third of the cruiser Relentless. Steel vaporized or was blasted into space as jagged fragments. The beam continued for three seconds, tearing a gaping wound in the side of the warship. Then three searing white bolts flew into the wound where the detonated in tremendous explosions. The rear half of the ship was a gutted shell.

Then the blue beam flashed out again, this time at the cruiser Steadfast. Chromac hurriedly adjusted the sensors. A dark figure was floating by the steadfast. Three more stark white bolts flew from the man. An alarm klaxon was now blaring full force. The figure approached one the airlock arms and vanished from the external sensors

Down on Arm C a squad of marines who stormed down the corridor in powered armour, heavy beam rifles clutched in their gauntlets. Data streamed into their helmets and uplinks, informing them of the precise location, marking it on instantly accessible virtual maps, and cataloging the threat. Analysis of the attack indicate that the target was probably a single powerful sorcerer, a legion killer.

They had enough time to register that they were unlikely to survive past the next few minutes when he emerged from the cross corridor ahead. He was two and a half meters tall, robed in shadowcloth, and wearing an adamantium cuirass and gorget which were rune marked and probably linked to his shields. His skin was bone white and his hair night black. His face was angular and cadaverous, seemingly devoid of fat. Around his waist he wore a talisman belt and around his brow a seemingly simple black adamantium crown. In his hand he held an adamantium staff tipped with a skull inside a bladed halo. Silver light streamed from his eyes.

The marines fired automatically, sending violet-white beams that could slice easily through hardened steel plate. The necromancer's shields absorbed the punishment without effort. Corporal Istandar Dix had enough time to recognize his killer and shout his name, "Nalhen!" Then the light seemed to dim slightly and there was the sound of rushing wind and the marines slumped, dead before they began falling.

The death wind swept through the station, passing through doors and bulkheads to rip the life right out of bodies. Men and women, human, sithi, or kordassi, all died. In less than a minute most of the station was dead.

Chromac watched helplessly on the monitor screens as everyone in the station died. Commander Strellin, Sestan Station's CO, had tears running down his face. His command chair was at deck level while the rest of them worked in a sunken level in a circle around the command station. "Is there anyone alive?" Strellin asked hoarsely.

Himissa shook her head in the negative. "Only us and Nalhen."

"Signal Seheneth and all ships in system. In form them of our situation. Chromac, give them a complete data dump of everything that's occurred, starting with today and working back. All our records, everything. Starting with today and working back. We don't know what will be left at the end of this." He paused to think. "What's his location?" Strellin asked as he wiped away tears.

"Closing on command," the sithi replied.

"How far?" Strellin asked.

"Just outside," she replied. The temperature seemed to drop for a moment, but that was an illusion. The armoured blast door glowed red and then white hot, waves of heat and visual distortion filling the room as life support struggled to compensate. It dripped away as slag. Nalhen entered.

Light no longer emanated from his eyes, allowing their true appearance to be seen. Each one was a pool of darkness in which a skull floated. Nalhen's flesh had ceased to be truly human before he had stepped foot on Nazar, all those ages ago. Every part of his body was sorcerously enhanced or transformed. He was the faint core of truth about which Wotan, Hades, Osiris, Chernobog, and countless other gods had been created around. He was the Great Necromancer and he was here, in the flesh.

He did not acknowledge them in any way. He walked into the operations pit and without even a gesture sent Chromac flying out of the way. Communications systems for broadcasting on the emergency frequencies to every ship, station, asteroidlet, and planet in the system went active. He addressed one of the pick ups.

"I am Nalhen. I have returned. You have been told lies about me by oligarchs who exploit you. The truth will become clear to you in time. What you have been taught are lies by those who would profit from them and the lackeys who would profit by serving them.

"They have made capitalism into corporate monopolism. They have made service into corruption, citizens into serfs, and government into tyranny. The have transformed the police into thugs, the social fabric into a threadbare rag, and dreams into dust. They have made taxation an extraction of wealth from the worker to pay for projects that serve the rich and they have made services a thing to discard. Education is allowed to rot because the rich will take care of themselves and the serfs are safer to rule if they are ignorant. A thousand years ago the Free Federation defiantly shouted 'we are not prey!' Now your rulers would make you cattle. All that will soon end. This nightmare will be over and what once was will be restored."

Smoke rose from the console. A black tear in space appeared behind Nalhen. Cold mist seeped from the rent. The Great Necromancer turned and walked through, the rent closing behind him.

"We're alive," breathed Chromac.

"Only because he wanted us as witnesses," said Strellin. "See if you can get some of communications working. We have a lot to report."

[Imperial Overlord]

Because it will come up and some point and as not to confuse people too badly, the Nazarian and Free Federation militaries follow the same system. It is (eliminating subgrades) basically as follows:

Private
Corporal
Sergeant

Specialist

Lieutenant
Captain
Commander
Force Commander
Strike Commander-commands a legion or major warship
Overcommander
Battlecommander


Legate
Imperator

[Imperial Overlord]

The Senate
Sandresha
The Free Federation

"I hope," said President of the Senate Solem, "that someone can explain this complete disaster to me and put it in context with our new initiatives. Battlecommander Thalessenn?"

The sithi was calm enough to inspire envy in a Zen Buddhist monk. He was large, by sithi standards, and wore a black metal harness with naval insignia and a battlecommander's twelve pointed nova. "Sestan Station was a comparatively minor outpost, a recreation and resupply post with modest repair facilities. It was not heavily defended and probably chosen because of the civilian traffic through that system guarranteed that this display would spread quickly."

"I'm glad losing two cruisers and a space station is a 'minor loss' Battlecommander. Do we have a plan other than letting them hit us at will?"

"Their transition to the Between are being noted and mapped. We should be able to track them to their forward bases soon enough. Scout groups have already been dispatched to find their forward bases and home worlds. That will take time and we will suffer losses, but once that is accomplished we can grind them into dust.

"On the subject of our losses, two cruisers and a space station is one the navy can easily endure. Its a fraction of our yearly building capacity once we are on war footing. Nalhen is not replaceable. Neither is Lamech. I'll trade ten cruisers for a good shot at either of them and count it cheap. These are flea bites Lord President, nothing more."

"Militarily, perhaps," said Solem. "Politically they are a disaster. We appear impotent and our enemy strikes at will. That perception will bury us and I will not have it. Kast, where are you on your project?"

"The first stream of cleared candidates has undergone reinforcement therapy and implantation surgery. Several have left recovery and are beginning to training in the use of their new augmentics. We are ahead of schedule and I would like to remind the Lord President that military outposts are not part of the Directorate's responsibilities."

"I don't give a dent demi-Star about your pet areas of responsibility. I don't have the patience to indulge your factional fighting. You will cooperate with each other in grinding the Black into dust or you will find your family destitute while you end up breaking rocks in the worst hellhole in Free Federation space."

Departure Gate
The Realm Beyond Hell


Countless stars shown in the night sky and around each of them were dead worlds. The Devourers had stripped the galaxy bare and reseeded it with their minions to be farmed to serve their appetite. Their hunger had been too great for even that to work and they had migrated through universes to find better feeding grounds, leaving only a few of their number behind.

A few things still lived on the world and one of them had once been human and was now an immortal. He wore armour of black leather and plates of gleaming white bone. Tall and lean, his face was marked by a scar that ran down the right side of his face. His skin was bone white, his eyes white skulls floating in pools of night, and his hair dead black an wild. His expression was grim and his heart was cold, save for one fleeting ember. That tiny flicker of hope was why he had not succumbed to death or despair. He endured.

He crested the ridge with a piece of black fabric floating behind him. As far as the eye could see the land was nothing but jagged black stone. A single structure rose from the plain, a tower that floated ten meters off the ground and rose up into the darkness. It was hollow with framework walls built from bone and orichalcum, reinforced and augmented with the fangs and talons. Power drained from armies of the dead and slain godlings augmented the flow of The One Power that fueled the fearsome engine. It was not enough.

The floating band of fabric vomited forth giant bones and bladelike teeth and claws. Nuggets of gold and silver followed and then came a stream of mercury, several tons worth in all. The metals rose into the air, the gold and silver melting to become liquid and mixing with the mercury in a swirling sphere of molten metal.

The One Power flowed through the metals, powering their fusion and transformation into a swirling mass of glittering orange alloy. The sorcerer rose into the sky, taking the mass of bones and the sphere of molten orichalcum with him.

Three kilometers up he reached the top of the tower. Bone reshaped and merged with the top of the tower, flowing and reforming to form another level at the top of the tower. Orichalcum flowed over the bones like a network of veins or circuitry, linking up with the tower's network.

The sorcerer orbited the terminus of the tower, examining his handiwork. He stroked his scar. It was almost ready. One way or the other, it would be over soon.

[Ford Prefect]

I'm a little behind, but that last sequence with the sorceror and his handiwork was very cool.

[Imperial Overlord]

Super Dreadnough Sun Eater
Deep Space
Near Free Federation Space


Alzen Kahar was a huge man, powerfully built, scarred, and bald. In size and appearance he differed little from the other "Grey Wolves", the old veterans who were the backbone of the legion. He stopped at the almost empty table, holding his tray. "Legate, mind if I join you?"

"Not at all, First Sergeant," replied Incaradine.

"Thank you Legate." He sat down opposite of Incaradine. Both men had plates stacked with food. Kahar's arcane and biomechanical augments required fuel just as Incaradine's sorcerous alterations and enhancement magics did. "Welcome back."

"It's nice to be loved," said Incaradine with a wry smiled.

"You are Legate," said Kahar. "Never doubt it."

"I don't. I'm the empath, even if a twisted one." Incaradine smiled. "Tell me what is on your mind First Sergeant. Why is so important that no one else is sitting here so there is no obstacle to us having this conversation, but so public that everyone needs to hear?"

"The Lady. She is not well. Save for her brother, you are the closest to her of all that still live."

"Jeric is dead," said Incaradine. "They fusion bombed the Vault shortly after we left. They have cut its existence out of their histories, burying their murders."

A cold fury entered Alzen's eyes. "They took no part in the Civil War."

"They feared and hated them. Even though they slept that was enough. It's just another crime, one of many."

"The Lady."

"Is dying," answered Incaradine. "We can't say why. She's getting worse. It's either a flaw in the resurrection process or some external agency."

"Nalhen?"

"Nalhen brought her back from beyond anyone else's reach. The Slavers burned her, First Sergeant. Even Kail couldn't restore her and he was right there, crawling towards her over Slaver corpses with shattered knees. That even Nalhen's efforts might be enough is disappointing First Sergeant, but sadly not unthinkable." Incaradine sucked back a long pull of juice. "Of course, there is always the long shot, which as you know I favor."

"That Kail still lives. That he somehow survived killing Garez. That he was not vaporized in the subsequent explosion but instead displaced somehow. It has been five centuries. The Lord would have made his way back."

"If he was able, yes. I felt nothing of his death and I would have known, despite the interference. And he was The Deathless. Kail lives."

"Never count a sorcerer dead until you have seen him die three times," Alzen quoted, "Never count a necromancer out just because he is dead."

"There is nothing we can do for Celene," said Incaradine, "nothing at least that will save her, but she will do her best to give us victory. The Guard is no stranger to loss and no stranger to its soldiers fighting on as death comes for them. Another heroic, dying effort." Glass shattered in his hands. The whole room flinched. Incaradine closed his fist, grinding the glass into his flesh. Blood dripped onto the table. He dropped the bloody fragments. "How I yearn to share my pain with them. She may have been my first lover, but she is so very promiscuous. There is so many debts in need of proper accounting."

The Spike
Shadowcatch
The Free Federation

"Okay people listen up," said Overcommander Vorlar Kadril. "Nalhen or a really powerful facsimile put a space station and two cruisers in the boneyard." The room was full of his people, half of whom were just back from surgeries implanting new arcane tech augments. Rike and his pack of mercenary killers were clustered at the far well.

Rike snickered. Karil continued. "They fucked up though. The shuttle they used was traceable to a front company that some intensive digging is a cover for their operations. Transtream Transportation. We're hitting all of its locations, everyone who works with them, everyone who buys from them, and everyone who sleeps with them. Some of them are going to gone by the time we get there. Some are going to be pretty harmless. And some of them are going to be death machines.

"This is the big time. Look around the room. Odds are good that some of the people in this room will be dead by the end of this series of operations."

"More than a few," said Rike, "and most of the dead won't be my people. If you find the real deal, it will be IS or Shadow Knife veterans. Engineered instruments of destruction that can pass as human or elite agents kept alive through massive alteration surgery through necromancy and upgraded with matchless capabilities. Adamantium bone lacing, orichalcum blades, spellwire, implant armour, the works. Shadowcloaks, shield generators, polymorphic body armour, and everything you can stash in shadowcloak as actual gear and instantly available. Blood is going to flow."

"Rike's an asshole, but he makes a good point," said Vorlar. "The odds are good that some of Zahn's people will be involved. The Killing Machine didn't get his bloodname by accident and the other Alphas that make up the Shadow Knives are only a little less lethal. We want prisoners, but if it goes sideways drop a gods damned mountain on them and rape the concerns over collateral damage. Averthi?"

"Averthi est!" his agents shouted back. Rike just smiled.

[Ford Prefect]

Man, Vorlar really does have a way with words. "Rike's an asshole, but he makes a good point,"

And is that the type of chapter that usually heralds asskickery? I think it is.

[Imperial Overlord]

Babylon Apartment Towers
Shenessia City
Haalessa
The Free Federation

"Get up," said Eve in a cold voice as she ripped the covers off the bed.

"Whaa," mumbled Pevel. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness. "Eve, have you gone completely nuts?"

"Get up and get the fuck out. Don't shower, just grab some clothes and go. You don't have much time."

"The apartment is in my raping name-," he began.

"Directorate troops are going to be here in less than ten minutes and they will be very trigger happy. Get the fuck up and leave."

A chill went through Pevel as he slid out of bed and grabbed a pair of slacks. "You're Black, aren't you?"

"Black as they come," she said. She was wearing a trench coat over a dark tunic and pants.

"So you were just fucking me because I was useful."

"I could have had anyone. I chose you because I liked you. Now I've fucked up your life. Sorry about that"

Pevel threw on a shirt. "What the fuck happens now?"

"You get as far away from here as you possibly can. When the Directorate comes for you, cooperate and don't resist the mind probe."

"What are you going to do?"

The bones of Eve's face began to shift. "What I was made to do."


-------------------------------------------------------

They moved by van to avoid attracting attention. Both of Haalessa's small moons were up, one crescent, the other full. The vans stopped two blocks from the apartment complex and the Directorate and Slayer's Guild killers piled out. The assault was timed to be simultaneous with a dozen other arrests throughout the Free Federation.

"We'll cover your people from around here," said Rike. The Slayer's Guild mage was wearing all black and carrying a four barrelled witchfire cannon attached to his right arm. The control yoke fit right into his palm.

"How brave of you," sneered Sardin.

"Slaver loving moron," said Rike quietly. "What tactical doctrine prescribes sending the wizard with the heavy fire support cannon into close quarters with an Alpha? Zerakis's bones, how did you ever make captain?"

"Enough," said Kadril. "Rike's people will remain as back up. We go in, hit hard and hit fast. Probably won't even need them." He lead a dozen men and women in powered armour down the block. Moving better than thirty kilometers an hour it took them less than twenty seconds to reach the building. Security override codes had the apartment doors popping open before they got there.

They left two of their number behind and stormed up the stairs. Simultaneously Rike and the other three Slayer's Guild killers made their way to roof tops with lines of sight on the apartment. "Blinds still down. Null IR, but that's worthless. Active shields, can't tell the strength. Suggestive of multilayered shields with energy sink and deflective cocoon. Top of the line, online, and waiting. Have fun."

Kadril suppressed a curse as his team moved off the stairs and down the hall. It had spotted their approach and was waiting for them and it most definitely was trouble. "Hard entry," he said. He and three others charged through the apartment walls in their mottled grey armour. A pale skinned, blonde muscular man was waiting for them. He wore black leathers under a shadowcloak. Vorlar Kadril had a moment of time to recognize him before the Killing Machine hit the two men on the left.

Forty centimeter orichalcum blades shot forth from Legate Zahn's wrists, glowing blue-white with the intensity of the charge running through them. They carved through shields and composite armour like a chain saw through soft cheese. One agent was slashed from navel to crown, the other decapitated.

Sardin was just behind them, already moving through the hole as a part of the second wave. The compact, overpowered, beam cannon in his hands fired. The flash as the beam impacted briefly outlined Zahn's shield shell. "Exit!" Kadril screamed.

Zahn was already in the air. Handrin's head had yet to hit the floor. It was like moving in molasses. Zahn was so fast.

Zahn kicked through Sardin breastplate. The tip of Zahn's boot and a good chunk of Sardin's chest blasted out the agent's backplate in a spray of gore. Zahn withdrew his foot and pointed both hands at the agent beside Sardin. Azure disruptor beams shot from his fingers, tore apart the Directorate operative's shields, and shredded his nervous system. Zahn had yet to touch back down.

Vorlar leaped forward, through the window and began falling twenty stories to the street. Two other agents followed suit, their shields sending air catching wings out to arrest their fall. "It's Zahn!" he yelled through the command link.

Rike didn't waste a moment. The quad barrels of his witchfire cannon spun, sending bolts of jade fire through the air. The apartment vanished in massive explosions of green flame which destroyed the adjacent units as well.

Kadril touched ground and activated the high command circuit. "Directorate override, code aleph-eleven-gamma. Orbital fire request, beam weapons, coordinates as follows."

Zahn couldn't read the encryption on Kadril's transmission, but his sensor net could certainly detect it and where it was going. The alpha was already on the other side of the building, having no desire to see how long it would take for Rike's cannon to eat through his shields. He ran through a wall, charged through a living room, blew the window out with a force pulse, and began a sorcery assisted leap that took him into an adjacent building tower.

A pillar of light smashed down on the Babylon Tower. The building exploded, the shock wave shattering windows for more than a kilometer and sending debris smashing into adjacent buildings. The blast flung Kadril down the street and smacked him hard into the side of a building. Fires were burning everywhere around him.

"Nice," said Rike. "You probably killed at least a thousand people and gave Zahn cover for his exit. He'll be wearing a new face and using a clean ID when he makes his next move. You now have a whole planet worth of possibles. Asshole."

[Ford Prefect]

And that's not how you do it, folks.

[Raj Ahten]

I haven't looked at this story in awhile, and damn. A lot has gone down since then.

[LadyTevar]

Talk about a hammer to kill a mosquito... Or in this case, a Nuke.

So, the Killing Machine is Bi?

[Imperial Overlord]

Talk about a hammer to kill a mosquito... Or in this case, a Nuke.

Actually beam weapon.

So, the Killing Machine is Bi?

Yes, but most Alphas are, being engineered shapeshifting infiltrator/assassins.

[Imperial Overlord]

The White House
Washington, DC
United States of America


Erica Davies rubbed her wrist around the inhibitor bracelet. The two mirror shade wearing Secret Service officers gazed stonily back at her. She turned her head back to the secretary that was ignoring her. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and leaned back in her chair. Time passed.

"You can go in now," the secretary said. Erica got up and straightened her clothes, a dark suit jacket and pants over a sky blue blouse . She was a good looking woman and knew it, with shoulder length dark brown hair and dark eyes. She took a deep breath and went through the door.

President William Chen stood up behind his desk. "Thank you for coming Ms. Davies," he said with a smile as if she wasn't here because the Secret Service appeared on her door step. There were a half dozen men and women in the room, all over forty which meant with rejuv they were well passed sixty. Chen extended his hand. She shook it. The two Secret Service zombies had discretely entered the room behind her.

"Please have a seat Ms. Davies. I have to say I was expecting someone who would appear a little older."

"Hard living and black magic, Mister President," she said as she sat down. Frowns greeted her. "That was a joke."

Chen gave his famous smile. "Of course," he said. He sat down again. "I must say your personal history makes for some interesting reading. One of the leaders of the Circle, back when it was Earth's dominant organization of sorcerers. Head of the Enforcers, their police arm and became involved with the Free Federation during the Resurgency. Took the amnesty when you went public in the twenty-third century Retired from the Circle's leadership with the disbanding of the Enforcers. You know, I was never entirely happy with the amnesty."

"Neither were we," she replied. "My people weren't criminals. The deal was the simplest and probably the fairest way of handling the manner."

"I can see why they called you the Queen of the Enforcers," Chen replied. "You did act as judge, jury, and executioner without regard for the law for a thousand years."

"The Circle did," she replied. "I'm not that old yet. We kept some very bad people from doing any more damage, brought them to justice, people who were beyond the reach of mundane law. Mister President, I have difficulty you had me brought here so we could talk about cases that have been over for more than four hundred years. They've come back, haven't they?"

Silence. "Yes the have," said President Chen, "and you are one of the few people still alive that have actually met them."

"Varidan Reeze?"

"Disappeared and somewhat biased in any case."

"He was Kane's Hand," she said. "The Resurgency killed most of his friends. The Civil War killed or drove into exile almost everyone he had left in Free Federation Space. If he looks behind him he can see army of the honoured dead walking with him. That doesn't make him unique. I have my own axes to grind."

"Your relationship with a . . ."

"Anastazi Darkmoon," she said. "Yes, there's that. There's also the little detail of the Slaver Lords raping my sister and cutting her to pieces over about a month. Pure malice on their part. She had been Stazi's lover for a while so they killed her as a 'fuck you' to him. She could barely light a fire with The One Power. They just wanted to hurt him, anyway they could. That's why so many sorcerers adopted new names and wore warmasks. A layer of protection between their loved ones and slaver terrorists. So yes, I have my axes to grind. Ask your questions."

"Very well then. What are they like?"

"The Free Federation was not at all like it is now. They were the survivors, well trained and well educated front line fighters that survived battle after battle, honing their skills, killing, and seeing their friends die again and again and again until they approached the level of the living legends. Hard, scarred, larger than life individuals inured to cruelty and suffering. It was like they were more than human and at the same time less. Merciless forces of nature constrained by iron discipline."

"Is that admiration in your voice?"

"Probably. You don't really appreciate them until you see the Slaver Lords in action. I didn't."

"The legendary and now defunct Slaver Lords. It appears that even the Free Federation didn't appreciate their good qualities without the Slaver Lords around."

"The Long Peace lasted more than three hundred years and Darkhold's lords enjoyed a high level of popularity. The White censor their history with a deft hand. Your first contact with the Free Federation came one hundred years after the White victory, give or take. It had radically changed from the previous millenia of its existence."

"That's what I want you to talk about. What can we expect from them?"

"If they haven't changed? A society devoted to the reconquest of the Free Federation. Whatever societal wealth and resources exist will be devoted to providing a decent standard of living for their citizens and fueling the war of conquest. They'll have a comparatively high ratio of sorcerers to mundanes and everything you would expect from that. They won't have numbers and whatever strategy they pursue will take that into consideration. They will prefer a quality over quantity strategy, by preference as well as need."

A black woman with grey hair spoke up. "What did you mean about the high effects of a high ratio of sorcerers to mundanes?"

"The current Free Federation, the White government, heavily regulates what sorcerers can and cannot do, what institutions can teach sorcery and what they can teach and so on and so forth. Essentially, they just want doctors to keep the rich healthy, engineers to make FTL drives, and interrogators to pull information out of the heads of dissidents. They're afraid of another Zerakis. Earth, on the other hand, has different issues, mostly regarding religion, and the use of magic."

"There was also the small matter of vampiric mind control being used on most major governments during the twenty first century," said President Chen.

"There is that as well," she admitted, rubbing the inhibitor bracelet, "even if it did save Western Civilization."

"Nobody likes the idea of blood thirsty monsters controlling a government from the dark, even if they limit themselves to just "pushing" initiatives on several issues and even if they were right about those issues." Those issues being the petroleum and environmental collapses of the mid twenty-first century, which just narrowly missed collapsing what was then modern society. Most of the twenty-second century had been spent recovering lost ground.

"Point taken, Mister President. In any event, the important point is that science and sorcery are complimentary practices. The scientific method has aided sorcerous development and sorcerous observations aid science. Magical healing works better with actual medical knowledge, and shields are better constructed with a working knowledge of engineering and physics. Arcane devices can be combined with technological devices for superior results, not just with say FTL drives, but spell reinforced adamantium armour, rune bullets, or energized orichalcum blades. The Black have had five hundred years to build the infrastructure that will supply the War Machine, they will fuse magic and technology in a way that will probably exceed even what was done during the Slaver War. The White regime isn't really comparable for the most part."

"So I can expect an army of well trained, well equipped zealots lead by battle scarred and grudge bearing veterans looking for revenge?" asked President Chen.

She winced. "That's not really what I was trying to get at, Mister President. If they have come back, it will be with a workable plan and they will have the resources to execute it. They will overcome the Whites, come hell or high water. Anyone in their way will be in for a lot of hurt."

"I think we agree, Ms. Davies, I just don't have my rose tinted glasses on. Thank you for your assistance. You may go."

"Yes sir." She got up and headed for the door. She stopped before she left and turned around. "Mister President, if I could add just one more thing?"

"Go ahead."

"I visited the Free Federation, before the Civil War. It was glorious. I've spent the last four hundred years watching it rot and the White pick its bones. The Black aren't always right and they certainly aren't saints, but they were good neighbors, better allies, and loyal to their country. From what I've seen, I can't say any of that is true about the White. Keep that in mind when you make your decision."

"Thank you Ms. Davies, and good day."

[Imperial Overlord]

Karsa Enclave
Terra
United States of America

Silent as a ghost Varidan Reeze padded across the kitchen floor. Warm sunlight streamed in through the tall windows in the adjacent dining room. There were two fridges, one porcelain white and the other stainless steel. He reached into the white one and took out a can of Coke, mayonnaise, lettuce, and hot mustard, along with a selection of cold cuts. He placed them on the counter and opened a cupboard.

"You sure eat a lot," said a small voice.

Reeze turned around and smiled at the pale, dark haired girl in the black dress. She was about twelve, give or take. "You're a very noisy little girl. Keep that up and you might get stuck with a job in Intelligence."

"You didn't answer my question," she said. "Why do you eat so much?"

"You're right, I didn't. Well, it's like this. Most Free Federation humans have all sorts of genetic enhancements. Upgraded immune systems, stronger muscles and bones, upgraded reflexes, stuff like that."

"And the skin?"

"Yeah, and the skin. Melanin production as needed. Pale when there is not much sunlight, dark when there's a lot of light. Also tweaked it so women are closer to men in size and strength. Useful stuff. Not everyone got them, but most did. Do you know about the Slaver Lords?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not stupid."

"Right. Well at the first part of the war the Slaver Lords were just a bunch of defectors who had joined the Naomar Kordassi. This is before Daemonstraum took over. Anyway, the Naomar used a lot of bioweapons in the first part of the war and they were able to get through with a number of them. Most of them were targeted at the sithi, who were the majority way back when and they killed a lot of them. But a few were also designed to kill humans and those without the gene work or a nearby necromancer died like that." He snapped his fingers.

"Okay. You still haven't told me."

"I'm getting to that. So there's that, and then there is the little detail that I'm a quarter Alpha. And have just about every piece of arcane tech, biomechanical, and GE enhancement and augmentation possible. I may be an old wreck compared to my youthful kick ass self, but an amped up body requires fuel. Period."

"Umm, vampire here," she said. "Well, not totally yet. I'm still changing. I don't eat much."

"Yes, but that's because your entire digestive system is being rewired to work off of blood."

"Yeah," she said as we wandered across the kitchen and opened the stainless steel fridge. She took out a bag of blood and stabbed through the top with a straw and took a sip. "So what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to talk to the big cheese."

"Ahh. Everyone's waiting for them to wake up. They've been sleeping for awhile." She pouted. "Everyone's busy."

"It's a big deal," said Reeze. "A lot of people could get killed. A lot of your family members."

"I know," she said. "It's just not fair."

Varidan smiled. "A lot of things aren't fair. Karsa, Karstein, whatever your family decides to call itself at any given moment you enjoy more privileges than most. Your family has wealth, power, and honour. And a form of vampirism that makes it fairly easy to have kids and those kids only gradually change, even if they are precocious twelve year old girls."

"Funny," she said and took another sip. "Not that the honour thing really applies. We have to hide and pretend to be someone else on a planet we've helped save a bunch of times. And that's not even talking about the Free Federation."

"You'll have to tough it out kiddo."

"Yeah," she sighed. "Is it true that Free Federats suicide rather than be captured? Like Japanese?"

"Sort of. It isn't an honour thing. You didn't want to be captured alive by the Slaver Lords, the Naomar Kordassi, or the Zarkos Elvindar."

"Pretty bad, huh?" She sucked up the last of the blood in the bag.

"Very bad."

"Huh. What's Lamech like?"

"Hard to describe. He cracks jokes, laughs in the face of danger, plots a hundred years in advance, is almost always right, enjoys killing people and mass destruction, and somehow makes the whole package seem charming. Why do you ask?"

"He's going to be here for the big to do," she said waving her hands.


The Senate
Sandresha
The Free Federation


"Fleet Admiral," said President Solem, "I'm not in the mood for bad news. I've been getting nothing but."

Chavren suppressed the urge to straighten up or check his uniform. Solem wasn't a man to disappoint. "Sir, tracking them has been difficult, but we have several probable locations. Fleets are being dispatched, under experienced battlecommanders, line officers who know their business. We have scouts out looking for the their homeworlds. We expect positive results soon, and unlike us they can't afford any setbacks."

"Fleet Admiral, I don't like suffering any setbacks. Deliver results or I'll pick one of those line battlecommanders and pin your fleet admiral's insignia on him. Understand?"

"Yes sir."

"And Admiral, I want the unreliables weeded out of the navy. I don't want any ships changing sides."

"Sir, our people are reliable. Political interference on this level will only increase discontent. We have safe guards. They work."

"They had better admiral. You just bet your career on it."

[LadyTevar]

"Hard to describe. He cracks jokes, laughs in the face of danger, plots a hundred years in advance, is almost always right, enjoys killing people and mass destruction, and somehow makes the whole package seem charming. Why do you ask?"

LOL! I love this part.

But what's an Alpha.

[Imperial Overlord]

But what's an Alpha.

Zahn's an Alpha or perhaps more accurately, the ultimate Alpha. The Slaver Lords engineered a number of Alpha designs, each more potent than the last. The first ones were super soldier infantry, the later generations were shape changer infiltrator-assassins. Some were captured while they were still gestating or being conditioned during the Slaver War and most of them were integrated into Free Federation Society. Zahn's notable that he defected, which caused his whole line (the class 7s, the most potent ones) to be abandoned.

[LadyTevar]

But what's an Alpha.

Zahn's an Alpha or perhaps more accurately, the ultimate Alpha. The Slaver Lords engineered a number of Alpha designs, each more potent than the last. The first ones were super soldier infantry, the later generations were shape changer infiltrator-assassins. Some were captured while they were still gestating or being conditioned during the Slaver War and most of them were integrated into Free Federation Society. Zahn's notable that he defected, which caused his whole line (the class 7s, the most potent ones) to be abandoned.

I see...
So Reeze is a quarter Alpha... which means one of his grandparents was a Full Alpha.

[Imperial Overlord]

Chicago
Terra
United States of America


The bar was dark, noisy, and busy. Dana Silverman headed towards the back, weaving her way past the patrons and servers. Her dark brown hair was cut short and combed neatly out of the way. Her suit was dark, conservative, and fit well. She sat down in the booth at the back.

"You're late," said the dark haired and pale man already sitting there. He also wore dark suit, although he also wore gold rimmed shades.

"Traffic," she said. "You chose the place," she reminded him.

Michael von Karstein shrugged. "You the were the one who insisted we meet." Technically, being a vampire wasn't illegal in the United States, although they were legally required to register and and receive thorough evaluations. None of the old clans were inclined to come out of the shadows and submit to a human government after conducting their affairs in secret for more than a millenia. As a consequence, the U.S. had a modest population of criminals which included beings capable of laying waste to a city.

The result was an accommodation. The government agreed informally not to look to hard for vampire clans and they behaved and kept certain intelligence agencies in the loop. Neither liked the arrangement much, but it worked. Most of the time.

"Things are stirring in the Free Fed," she said. "Those on high have their ears to the ground."

Michael was quite for a moment. "Lamech is coming. He's called a meeting between all the clan leaders. The Eldest are being woken up."

"Where's the meeting?"

"I don't know and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

"Don't be stupid."

"I'm not. You don't know Lamech or that part of the family. You ever met an old style Free Federation vampire overcommander? Do you know what they're like? No? Then shut the fuck up. These guys play hard ball on a level way beyond me, let alone you. I'll let you know what happens when I know, which will be when its over."

"What about Free Federation news?"

"Nothing solid. The rumor mill says family reunion."

"Alright," Silverman said. "We'll pick this up later. Keep us in the loop."

"Yeah. Sure."


Reaper class battlecruiser Kinstrife
Deep Space
Outside Free Federation Space


Ten ships flashed back into existence in the cold void of space. The largest was almost two kilometers of lean and murderous Reaper class battlecruiser, flanked by a pair of ponderous Formidable class battleships and the small blade shapes of lighter cruisers and destroyers. A calm synthetic voice issued from the flag bridge's speakers. "Arrival."

Battlecommander Jochin Vok felt his stomach begin to leap and settle. Despite every advance made by man, elvindar, sithi, and kordassi Jump continued to suck. Sensor and actuality sphere data flowed through the six cables plugged into his forearms and the four connected to his skull. Expert systems wired into his command chair, uniform, and flesh handled the data, processed it and fed it to him in a way that an augmented human brain could process. "Verify arrival of the other battle squadrons."

"Affirm," said Lieutenat Lantros from the coms station. "Com links established with Battle Squadrons Remembrance and Terrible. They are awaiting orders."

Vok accessed the total VR display and saw the clusters of ships representing the Free Federation battle squadrons floating in space, each commanded by a precious adamantium armoured Reaper battlecruiser. There was nothing else of note in this patch of the void between star systems, save for the shroud, a patch of darkness which only the vaguest of sensor traces registered at this comparatively close range.

"Launch sensor drones," Vok ordered, "and activate D-scramblers." No point in letting them run from this ambush. The Blacks had been clever enough, hiding in their synthetic shadow, but they had made too many runs through the Between to remain hidden.

"Affirm. Drone launch, D-scramblers active."

"All squadrons advance, energy sinks active, guns charged, and fields at full. Full combat sensors and jamming. Broadcast a general demand for a surrender." Captain Cadrick on the main bridge would be running the ship, leaving Vok to manage the fleet. "Full scan of the shroud. I want to know what is inside."

Captain Nolum was engaged with the sensor board. He correlated results from the various probes and ships and the fleet began to accelerate towards the shroud. "Sensor data suggests there are five large warships inside the shroud."

"Five," said Vok. "Well, unless they've found and recommissioned the Enslaver, five won't be enough."

Super Dreadnought Sun Eater
Deep Space
Outside Free Federation Space



Celene Nightfire read the names of the ships in the Free Federation battlefleet and winced. "Kinstrife. I'm sorry brother of my heart, but we're going to have to gut her."

Incaradine shrugged. "Having a ship named after me was bad for my ego anyway." The two sorcerers were striding swiftly down the darkened corridor on their way to the arcanum observation deck.

"Would it kill the Zarkos Elvindar to light their interiors decently?" Celene asked.

"No, but they can see clearly and so can we so they won't," Incaradine replied. The door slid open before them and they entered a semi-circular room with a thick armourplex window. Sensor data, relayed to the expert systems woven into their armour, was also displayed on the hull window.

"All those steel hulls," Celene whispered. "Its almost like the old days. Especially the Formidables."

"The design is almost an exact copy of the Dominator class," said Incaradine. "Steel hulls are inferior to adamantium, but still viable. The Slavers proved that just."

"Destroying the rigs was a smart move," Celene said, shifting to be all business.

"Nalhen or Lamech came up with it. They demolished all the rigs in Nazarian space, we blew most of them in rather than loose them or raided them in the last days of the war. The Zarkos continued to hit them after. Adamantium rigs are as expensive as hell to make and even with them its not cheap to make even without talking about the energy costs. They wanted to rebuild a navy quickly with a hammered industrial infrastructure and then no major corp, of the ones that were left, wanted to take the hit for building an adamantium rig without guaranteed future profits. Weren't eager for the government to spend its money on them either, not they way they hate taxes and love easy contracts. They only ever made a half assed job of rebuilding a few, a century latter complete with cost overruns, massive corruption, incompetence, and only half the job ever being finished. Steel gets the job done and there are always other demands for admantium so they stuck with it."

Celene nodded. Her braid crept over her shoulder, seemingly of its own accord, red hair and barbed silver wire flashing in the half light. "The shroud is down," she said. Gaps opened in flooring, revealing complicated frame armatures of orange-gold orichalcum and gleaming silver. The armatures wrapped around each sorcerer and contoured themselves to their bodies, forming frame chairs. A sphere of perfect black crystal rose from the floor on an orichalcum stand. The frames extended rods, connecting themselves into the crystal's base. Celene's lips twitched. "Cry havoc," she said, the ghost of an ancient joke on her lips.

Incaradine smiled back. "No mercy, no pity, no quarter," he replied, the motto and warcry the Dark Guard had adopted during the Slaver War.

Celene signaled the bridge. "We stand ready."

[White Haven]

Hmm...emphasis on the use of steel hulls...my guess is electromagnetics on a massive scale.

[Imperial Overlord]

Hmm...emphasis on the use of steel hulls...my guess is electromagnetics on a massive scale.

The Free Fed has some very good steel, but its not quite inferior to adamantium when as a form of armour or structural support. Everything else being equal, an adamantium vessel will still be fighting when a steel hulled ship is slag.

[Ford Prefect]

Only five ships ... I suppose the Black must have something up their sleeves. I mean, it's heavily alluded to in the last section aboard Sun Eater.