Into The Darkness-Part 1

[demolition]

This is going to be a "book" of sorts

What i want is a member frome each fleet to participate

NO one replys on here unless it is a rp

i'll creat another thread for replys other then rp

send me an email at [email protected] if you want to participate

it'll be done by chapters, 1 chapter will have 1 post from each commander involved in the story

we start with the prologue

please dont reply unless i have given you permission

btw there will be 1 commander that is an indie too

Each chapter will consist of 1 day for each commander involved

[ 09-01-2001: Message edited by: demolition ]

[ 09-03-2001: Message edited by: demolition ]

[demolition]

[rp]

Prologue

Today is April 4, 3000 AD. Alone in a room at Galcom Academy Cmdr Demolition Contemplated what had happened today. He though, today I graduated from Galcom Academy. Tomorrow at 08:00 hours I receive my first command. He was to be a commander fresh out of Academy because Galcom needed all the commanders they could get. Demolition looked down at the paper in front of him, which told him about his first assignment, who his command staff was, and what ship he was to command. He decided to go meet his command staff. First he went to see Mike Frederick, his Chief Engineer, then Flight Officer Tommy Schual, Comms. Officer Sandy Crane, Navigations officer Lanna Kalrig. Finally Combat Officer Sam Brades, Med Officer Alli Malfest, and Tactical Officer Kara Morganis.

After doing this he decided to go back to his room and sleep since it was 19:00 hours….Tomorrow is the big day, was his final thought as he drifted off to sleep

[/rp]

[ 09-02-2001: Message edited by: demolition ]

[Blades]

[RP]

Commander Savages Quaters

GCV-Tsunami in Drydock, GalCom HQ

23:40 04/04/3000

“… computer, play back last log entry.”

Tweedle

“.. and that pretty much brings us up to date. So I have a ship, a crew and absolutely no clue as to what the hell I’m doing here. Oh yeah, and the Academy Commandandt? He’s gone into therapy. End Log.”

Savage groaned at the sound of his own tired voice and flung himself back onto his mattress and folded his arms behind his head. He looked up at the grey ceiling above him and pondered his immediate future.

The recording of his memoires had taken a little over six hours in total. Six hours of hard graft, half truth’s and exaggerations that had explained his unique re-assignment from File Clerk to commander of a Battlecruiser.

Of course, most of it had been true … the desire to be more than he was, the blackmailing of the Academy Commandandt, even his confinement on board an Insurgent warship and his eventual rescue by the Wily Corsair – just a few of the more derogatory and heroic moments had been exaggerated a tad.

Not to worry, thought Savage, by the time I get this published, Im sure I’ll be far more important, brave and heroic than now. The average reader wouldn’t notice the inconsistencies …

And what will you do now? cried out a little voice from inside his brain.

This startled young commander Savage a wee bit.

He bolted upright and stared directly in front of him, too frightened to risk further movement, even more scared of the prospect of allowing his eyes to wander outside of it’s immediate field of view and actually see something he really didn’t want to notice.

Ok ok ok …. You’re tired, it’s been a long haul to get you here, you’re just a little bit tired. Just your imagination … theres nobody here with you.

That’s right Karl, just the two of us …

Brave commander Savage of the GCV-Tsunami made a noise not unlike that of a little girl jumping away from the fright of having a bug land on her nose and fell in a heap at the foot of his bed. He scampered on all fours for a moment, turning in circles and eventually bumping his head into something remarkably solid and stopped abruptly.

As he careered off to one side, his vision became colourful and he felt a curious, warm sensation spreading over his torso before he became acutely aware of a grotesque stickiness at the back of his neck.

Had anybody have walked into his quarters at that point, they would have been forgiven for thinking that the occupant was a bumbling idiot. They would have seen this starship commander lying nearly unconscious with the back of his head in a plate of warm spagetti and his groin drenched with luke warm coffee from a large mug that had somehow fallen into his lap.

Savage, never one to linger in a precarious position lifted his head and surveyed the gloomy room around him. Everything appeared to be as it should, his uniform pressed and mounted in a small at the far wall, an oak breakfast table nestled aside the viewport a couple of steps from his bed, even wall where he had recently mounted his command assignment instructions was as it should have been. Yet, something was not quite right at club Savage. Something was ….. wrong.

He took a moment, but eventually plucked up the courage to force himself to think.

Hello?

Still here.

Savage shrieked again, this time more like a wounded animal than the little girl he previously emulated. This time, however, he didn’t bolt. He remained perfectly still, despite the fact that he desperately wanted to get as far away from the voice he heard as humanly possible. Sadly, fear induced paralysis held him firmly in place.

“Who are you?” said Savage out loud, surprising himself as he uttered the words that he was even capable of coherent speech.

It’s me numbnuts, your inner voice.

My inner voice?

Yes, your inner voice.

Savage blinked. Something wasn’t right.

You cant be my inner voice, thought Savage. This is my inner voice.

Savage heard a groaning sound. Oddly enough, it seemed to come from within his own head.

You can have more than one inner voice you know.

Savage shook his head and became aware of how fast his heart was beating.

“Not possible.” He again said out loud.

And why’s that? asked the voice in his head again.

Because only crazy people have voices in their heads. That’s why.

Savage awaited a response. Then he waited a bit longer.

Hello?

Still here.

Savage resisted the urge to squeal once again, and decided instead to get mad at himself.

Why did you go quiet?

I was giving you a moment to let the irony of the situation dawn on you.

What do you want? thought Savage.

It took a moment for the newcomer to respond.

Same as you I guess. Oh, and to make your life a living hell.

WHAT?!?

The new voice seemed to retreat a little bit.

Sheesh, that was a joke. You don’t seem to have a very good grasp on humor, do you?

Savage ignored the voice inside his head.

What are you?

There was groaning again.

I already told you. Im your inner voice. The other, inner voice. Im the part of you that’s devious, sarcastic, cruel to small fury animals, likes to blackmail upstanding GalCom citizens, blow up Insur-

Shut up! Shut up! Shut uuuuuuuuuuuuuuup!

Ok, ok …. Sheesh … you don’t have to be such a grouch about it.

Savage forced himself to his feet and dabbed congealed spagetti lumps out of his hair.

Where did you come from?

I’ve always been here. Just …. Quieter.

Savage sat himself down on the edge of his bed and thought some more.

If you’ve always been here, why is it only now that I can hear you?

The voice inside his head seemed to audibly shrug.

Stress I would imagine. That and the fact that you have recently had a head injury.

Savage frowned. “A head injury? I don’t remember having a head injury.”

Even as he spoke the words, he realised how stupid that sounded. He wanted to reach inside his head and pull out his brain.

When did this happen?

A few weeks ago. Roughly around the time you boarded that transport, had that interesting conversation about eyeball moistening with Mr. Rotundo. In fact, it was right about the time that you first met Captain Oliver ..

“… Hasenau.”

It was right about then that Commander Savage fully remembered everything.

[/RP]

If you need to ask, you should read something else first. Try looking back a couple of years and you’ll find it.

[ 09-06-2001: Message edited by: Blades ]

[Ben Somerset]

[RP]

4 April, 3000, 0000hrs

GCV Swiftsure

Neptune/Sol

Eight bells softly sounded on the Swiftsure's bridge, echoing the coming of a new day. In the seat at the center of the bridge, Commander Benjamin Somerset picked up his datapad to make the log entry for the evening watch. Even though the 4 hour watch had been uneventful, the deck log didn't quite make it seem so. As he dictated to it, the words quickly appeared on the datapad's screen;

4 April 3000

Coordinated 314X217X012

20-24

Steaming as before on base course 330dg declination 25dg T, conforming to Patrol Pattern 7 at 0.85kps. Jumps at 2030 and 2230. Ship set at Condition 4, Material Conditon Alpha. Av. Reactor pressure at 42000 kilopascals.

Benjamin Arthur Somerset

Commander

He ordered the datapad to store the entry in the log, and deactivated it. He reached to the chair's arm, and punched the button to shut down the holo displays in front of him. The HUD, NID, CVD and TacScan all disappeared as he stood.

The sound of the bridge hatch swishing open caused him to turn his head. Through them stepped Soran, Swiftsure's First Officer.

"Good morning, Commander," the Vesperon said in his still somewhat odd sounding accent.

"Morning, Soran," he replied. "Rather quiet watch, I must say."

Quiet wasn't exactly the best way to describe it. Particularly boring might have been better. The most exciting part of the watch were the two jumps the ship made as she cruised in Neptune.

For the moment, the ship had been ordered to patrol the outer areas of Neptune in case there were traders attempting to smuggle off the regular shipping routes. It didn't seem likely to him, as this far off the routes was ludicrous even for smugglers.

But he'd been given his orders, and a Commander of nine years and twenty years service didn't question orders. Well, almost twenty years. In another month and a half, he'd add another service stripe to his dress uniform. One thing he had appreciated was that his EarthCom service had carried over to GalCom. It had made all of those previous years of service worth something. At least, he hoped so.

He shook his mind back to the present as he heard Soran say, "That is not surprising. We are in a rather...uninteresting part of space."

"Indeed, Number One," Somerset said, wholeheartedly agreeing.

Soran walked over to a console and punched up the deck log for the previous watch. His eyes quickly scanned the information and nodded. He turned back to face his Commander and asked, "Is there anything to discuss, sir?"

"Nothing we didn't cover earlier," he said as he told his First Officer formally, "Number One, you have the watch."

"Aye, aye, sir," the Vesperon said just as formally.

Somerset nodded, as he turned toward the bridge hatch. It obidently slid open for him as he began the short walk to his cabin. He passed no one as he went down the corridor. With it being the midwatch, he expected most of the crew was at their posts or in their bunks. Sleep was a difficult commodity aboard a warship, even in peacetime.

He fast came upon his cabin as the hatch slid open and then shut for him. With a sigh he sat down in his chair, feeling an unknown tension leave him as the sigh left his body. He knew that he should sleep as he had the forenoon watch, but his heart wasn't in it.

Instead, he swung his chair toward the desk. As he did, he hit a button on the desk and waited momentarily until he heard the com beep.

"Steward's mate," a slightly mechanical voice responded.

"Tea to the Commander's cabin," he told the com.

The voice responded "Aye, aye, sir."

With a snap Somerset clicked off the com, and activated his desk terminal. If he couldn't catch up on sleep he would instead catch up on the megs of paperwork that made up as much of a Commander's duties as commanding itself did.

After a time, he heard the admittance chime sound. To it he said, "Come."

The hatch opened to reveal a SM droid holding a cup of tea. "Your tea, Commander," it said courteously.

"Set it down here," he said indicating a coaster next to his arm. After the droid sat the Earl Grey down, he said "Thank you. Dismissed."

The droid quickly came to attention, performed a very precise about face, and exited the cabin. As the hatch closed, Somerset turned back to his paperwork and hoped he could finish it before morning watch.

Time passed rather quickly, and Somerset went into almost his own world as he processed the paperwork. Hours passed, bells chimed, more tea was sent to his cabin.

After hours had gone by he punched up some music to listen to. Most people looked at him oddly when he told them of his musical preference. It had been introduced to him by his mentor, Angelique Trouseau. Jazz they called it, pioneered in the early and mid 20th century. She was an afficienado of the era, and had transferred that interest to her First Lieutenant. He'd programmed in a great number of songs into the computer and usually had it run those songs in a random series so there was always something different.

Jazz had come and gone, reappearing from time to time over the centuries as a popular music form. The last time it had been a cultural icon was almost 150 years distant. Most people didn't listen to it any more, if they even knew what it was. The majority of humans these days were stuck on slap music. He didn't consider it music himself.

Almost without his noticing it he heard two bells chime in his cabin. He glanced at the chrono on his desk, wondering how he'd managed to accomplish so much within the first hour of the watch. The chrono instead read 0500 meaning he'd worked completely through, and now had only 3 hours to sleep before returning to the bridge.

In a way it was fortunate for he had only to put on the finishing touches to his report and he would be done. Those could wait until he went on watch where there was little to do other than read and do paperwork. Sighing, he drank off the last of his tea and leaned back in his chair. Slowly he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose rolling his fingers lightly along it.

He stood and removed his tunic, hanging it on the chair back. Carefully he removed the undershirt and placed it on the seat of the chair. Next came his boots and socks. Afterward, he slid into his bunk and allowed the music to overtake his mind as he fell asleep.

------

0800hrs, 4 April 3000

GCV Swiftsure

Neptune/Sol

Morning came far too quickly. As Somerset settled into his command chair he gave a silent prayer that he wouldn't fall asleep while on watch. Of the many things he learned at Academy one of the ones they stressed most was that falling asleep on watch was a cardinal sin. The instructors made sure the cadets knew that if they did someone would descend straight down from heaven with the express purpose of killing them.

There was also the fact that he was Commander and he had an example to set for the crew. How would they react if their Commander fell alseep while he was on watch? It certainly wouldn't incline them to maintain vigilence while they were tending to their duties. So he had to stay awake. In order to do so the first thing he did after sitting down was buzzing a steward to bring some tea to the bridge.

He tapped on his control console, and brought up the holo-displays around him. He picked up a datapad and checked the log for the last two watches. There wasn't much as the ship was still steaming through the nothingness of Neptune.

He pulled up his reports and worked on them as the watch began to pass quietly once again. Stewards brought cup after cup of tea to him as he conned the ship through the inactive outer reaches of Neptune.

In a way he almost wished that something would happen, even if it did turn out to be bad. The inactivity of these last weeks had been very trying on the crew. Under normal circumstances they'd be patrolling the major shipping routes but recently ship losses in Neptune had gone up. Fleet Command assumed that it was an increase in raider activity in the area, and ordered Swiftsure there to investigate.

So far, they'd found nothing. There was no sign that any ships had been through the area recently. A few days ago they'd detected a rather large unidentifiable mass and they'd gone to investigate. What their sensors had picked up was one of the ancient probes humanity had sent out to the stars sometime during the 20th-22nd centuries.

Somerset had the probe collected and studied, and requested information from Fleet Command so it could be identified. Soran had spent a great deal of time sifting through the old records but had found nothing on the probe as yet. At the moment it sat in CB1 and would probably be transferred to a Starstation for study when they made it back to port. In Somerset's mind, a warship wasn't the place to conduct research. The Swiftsure was a warship and that is what she would be through and through.

The "Speedy" her crew called her. She was built by Vickers and commissioned in 2971. Over the years the heavy cruiser had lost her place as the premier ship class in EarthCom and later GalCom. That role had now moved to the Battlecruisers which were more multiroled than a CA was. Bigger ship, larger crew, and more space almost automatically made for a ship better suited for multiple duties than the aging CA's.

Some of the Commanders of the heavy cruiser fleet wanted more than anything to get their hands on one of the new Galactan class BC's with their sleek deadliness. Somerset much preferred his more manuverable, faster, and nearly as capable Swiftsure. She may have been an old Starcruiser who had seen better days, but she was still his ship.

He'd in almost a literal sense "interhited" the ship from his mentor and former Commander Angelique Trouseau. When their ship had been attacked by the Insurgents nine years ago, Trouseau had been severely wounded. As her First Officer, Somerset took command of the ship and managed to save the ship after the deadly onslaught. After she died, Somerset did what the regulations required of him. He took the Swiftsure as her Commander and brought her battered hull back to port.

EarthCom Fleet Command had applauded his "magnificent" performance and let him retain command of the ship. In the old days, every ship had two officers that EarthCom had adjudged as "completely qualified" to be the ships Commander. The Commander himself, and their First Officer. They'd both recieved the same training, and had both taken the six month long Commanding Officer Program. COP was intensive, focusing on all areas of shipboard and surface operation.

EarthCom never knew what would take place on their ships that went out into deep space until long after the fact. That lead them to produce Commanders who were capable of facing up to any sort of situation that came up as they plied between the stars. Sailing, engineering, tactical and strategic combat, marine surface action, fighters, all aspects concievable the COP trained for intensively.

That was why the failure rate of those who entered the COP was over fifty percent. For those unfortunate few who didn't make it through, there were two options. The first was to simply resign, and the second was to accept a shore position. They would rise in rank, gain importance, but would never hold command again.

Somerset would never have to face that fate. As a Commander, he would retain at least that rank for the rest of his career. And truth be told, only to himself, it was the job he loved best. Sailing a lone starship among the deep, far away from Fleet and everything else, independent, able to rely only on his ship and crew. It was that independence that had characterized the Earth Command and all of those who had joined her.

They had rules and regulations, but they were there for guidance. Commanders had always enjoyed a broad amount of freedom and quite possibly always would. Being completely attached to someone else, under someone elses orders made for a poor chain of command. The man on the scene would have the better idea and the better judgement.

As these thoughts flew through his mind, he had more tea, went to the head, and saw the watch pass through again to eight bells. It was 1200, his reports were complete, and he could turn the watch over to Ishikawa, his Second Officer. He activated his datapad to write out the duty log for his watch;

0800-1200

Steaming as before.

Benjamin Arthur Somerset

Commander

The hatch slid open to reveal the new watch stepping onto the bridge. Ishikawa walked over to Somerset and said in his deep voice, "Good afternoon, sir."

"Good afternoon, Hikaru. Uneventful watch. Any more word on Soran finding anything out on that probe?" he asked with a questioning glance.

Ishikawa slowly shook his head, as his eyes glinted off the overhead lights. "No, sir. As far as I know, nothing down there has changed." His eyes lit up and a smile crept onto his face as he said, "Though I do understand that a good number of the crew have gone down there to take a look at the probe. Like a piece of human history, one of the PO's said."

"He's right about that. Perhaps I'll check on it after awhile," Somerset said smiling lightly back. More formally he said, "Nothing has changed. Still steaming as before. Maintain our patrol course, and inform me if you see anything. You have to con, Mr. Ishikawa."

"Aye aye, sir. I have the watch," Ishikawa responded just as formally.

After the words were said, Ishikawa settled into his watch, and Somerset left the bridge for his adjacent ready room.

The room itself was small, and very cramped. How the architects had managed to snug in a desk, two chairs, and a small bunk still moved Somerset to near incomprehension. He glanced to the beautiful painting of a Starcruiser coming out of hyperspace that had adorned the cabin since before his earliest days onboard ship. It had been Angelique's, and he would not allow it to leave the ready room after her tragic death. Swiftsure was her first ship, just as it was his. One more thing that would forever bond the two, in a way that few could ever understand. More than friends, less than spouse, but always there for one another. Just as he knew she would always be with him, somehow.

He groaned slowly as he took off his jacket tunic and laid it on his chair behind the desk. The watch had worn him thin, even with the inactivity. His sluggish mind considered going to the Officer's Mess for the afternoon meal, and quickly dismissed it as his eyes slowly drooped and quickly flitted up. What he needed was not food, but some rest. He lowered himself onto the bunk slowly, and closed his eyes.

In moments, the Swiftsure's Commander drifted off to sleep once more.

-----

1652hrs, 4 April 3000

GCV Swiftsure

Neptune/Sol

A racous buzzer awoke him from his dreamless sleep.

With the quick reflexive action ingrained in him by twenty years of service, Somerset woke instantly and reached up to depress the com button, accepting the call. "Yes," his voice said somewhat groggily.

"Mr. Ishikawa reporting, sir. We have something odd on the sensors that you might want to come check out," the metallic voice from the bridge said.

"On my way," he quickly replied as he picked up his tunic off the chair. As he put it on and began sealing it the hatch from the ready room to the bridge slid open. He strode over to the command chair and demanded "Report, Mr. Ishikawa."

"We just got it on sensors a few minutes ago, Commander. It's not emitting anything so we didn't pick it up until it was close aboard. See here, sir," Ishikawa said as he threw up a TacScan display on the main screen. Less than 25km away was a small dot that wasn't accentuated by any of the standard light codes. "As you can see," Ishikawa continued, "the object has no power readings, no signs of drive activity, and no distress signal. Whatever it is, it's dead in space. I don't think that it's a rogue body, however. It's raidiating in the metallic bands, and our active sensor sweep has given us a general idea of its configuration. The TacComp is running it through the database but hasn't come up with a match yet."

"Very well," the Commander said as his mind raced ahead of the problem. He reached to the chair arm and depressed the button to activate the 1MC. As the whistle sounded his voice came over the ships com "All hands, this is the Commander. Set Condition 2. All officers to the bridge. I say again set Condition 2, all officers to the bridge."

As the bridge went into a bustle to carry out his orders lights on his HUD changed as the shields began to run up, the weapons were charged, and the missile bays were loaded with war shots.

Within minutes all of the ships officers had reported to the bridge and sat down at their stations.

The first thing on his mind was to confirm what kind of object this was. A probe, a ship, or an unknown object. Second was to determine if the object posed a threat. In order to do that, however, he had to get in closer.

This was always a problem, because getting in close was exactly what an enemy would want him to do. And yet, indecision was the one thing that EarthCom had trained out of their officer corps. They viewed it as worse than an accident, and an invitation to death, which Somerset wholeheartedly agreed with.

But the only way to find out was to investigate. And investigate they would.

"Pilot," Somerset said, "let's be about it. Manuever us to within 15 kilometers, ahead dead slow."

"Coming to 172 true declination 36 degrees, ahead dead slow aye, sir," Henry Allen at the FO's station said as he began to put the Swiftsure into position.

-----

As three bells softly chimed on the bridge, tense officers kept close watch on their instruments. Slowly the distance between the Swiftsure and the unidentified ship wound down. Allen made a slight adjustment and announced, "Now at 15 kilometers, Commander. All stop."

Somerset looked intently over his displays and nodded. "Very well. Guns, Number One, get me a detailed scan of that ship. Pilot, manuever us around it so we can get a hull map off of her."

At the helm, Pilot Allen took a steadfast hold on the stick that controlled the ships manuevering with his right hand. Near his left hand was a circular touchpad, which read the various speeds to which the engines could be set to. He depressed the one reading "Manuevering thrusters" and waited for the engine room to acknowledge the annunciator. A small chime sounded in his ear, and he said "Engine room answers manuevering thrusters, Commander. Commencing sweep."

Swiftsure slowly moved around the unknown, as small bursts from the thrusters squirted out from the ship. Allen deftly went completely around the ship, as the other officers took care of scanning the ship.

After twenty minutes had passed, Soran announced "Hull map compiled, Commander."

"Let's see it on the main screen then, Number One."

The image that appeared was an oddity none of them had ever seen. An unshapely object, the ship had piping and wires spread all along the exterior of the ship. From the aft end, a large reaction thruster jutted out. Near the thruster were a number of gashes that appeared to be hull ruptures.

"Opinion, Number One?" Somerset asked.

"It appears that there was some kind of accident on board. Our scans indicate that the ship utilized a rudimentary fusion reactor with simple reaction drive. Fascinating for historical study, but little else. I believe that the piping that put reaction mass into the thruster failed, and in addition to stopping the vessel, breached the hull," Soran said after a careful study of the screens at his station.

"Any ideas on age?" Kamarov asked from the Navigation station.

"With the ship in vacuum, there is no accurate way to determine age. I would estimate at least three centuries at least, and as many as five. The configuration is not in our database, so the only way to positively identify the ship would be to contact Central Command," Soran said succinctly.

"Agreed. Lt. Dorcett, send a message to CentCom, requesting any information they have on this particular ship configuration."

"Aye, aye, sir," Lt. Jessica Dorcett said from the Com station.

Somerset contemplated the situation for a moment. They had a Starcruiser class ship, far larger than the ship that sat before them. It was inert, apparently had no life, and had been adrift for years. CentCom would eventually send them the data, but under the circumstances it would have a low priority. Until they sent a response though, Swiftsure could go nowhere.

She needed to get back to her patrol. And there was only one way to do that in a reasonable amount of time. Depressing a button, he waited for the 1MC whistle to sound. After it had he spoke quickly, "SM Squad, gear up and report to the Launch Bay. Engineering and Medical Officers to the Launch Bay in vac suits. That is all."

Soran looked at Somerset quizically, and raised an eyebrow slowly.

He'd known Soran long enough to interpret what he was saying by that simple gesture. "The quickest way to figure out what that ship is is to go over and find out for ourselves. So we do. I'll be going over as well."

"I advise against that, Commander," the First Officer responded.

Somerset gave him a huge smile as he said, "I knew you would." Though some might have not thought it possible, the grin grew larger as he added, "You have the con, Number One."

Knowing that the Commander was exercising his perogatives, Soran could only respond "Aye, aye, sir. I have the con."

Somerset suited up and went to the Launch Bay. When he arrived, all of the appointed people were ready to depart. He looked over at their pilot and said, "Ready, Ensign?"

"Yes, sir. We can saddle up whenever you're ready," the Ensign quickly replied.

Somerset nodded, and the SM Sergeant said "You heard the Commander, Marines! Saddle up!"

Once they had all climbed aboard and strapped in, the shuttle launched out of its bay.

In these days, it might have been much simpler to simply beam over to the unknown ship. Somerset hadn't really ever been to comfortable with the idea of something scattering his constituent atoms all over space and then putting them back together again. Perhaps it was the fear that the gadget would put him together inside out, or that something would be missing made him reluctant. But on Swiftsure there was a more compelling reason. The Starcruiser design went back to the 2960's, and there was no room in her design for a large, complicated, and power draining object like a transporter. Which allowed Somerset to avoid the thing, and use the shuttles, which he felt much safer in.

-----

"Go to the airlock, Commander?" the Ensign asked expectantly.

"No, we're doing this by the book. The ship is unidentified, and we don't know what we're getting into. Close to five meters and we'll go over by thrusters."

"Aye, aye, sir."

The shuttle closed to five meters, and the party put on their helmets as the cabin was depressureized. They left one at a time and thrusted over to the inert ship in front of them. Since the airlock was sealed shut, one of the SM's had to cut it open with their laser rifle so they could enter the ship.

Small objects and debris filled the interior as Somerset boarded the dead ship. Pitch blackness permeated every area that wasn't illuminated by suit lights. The first thing noticed by all was the very human writing imprinted around the inside of the ship. Which at least meant they could understand what had happened before. No translation would be required, fortunately.

"Can we get any kind of power restored, Shawn?" Somerset asked his Chief Engineer.

"Doubtful, sir," an Irish lilt responded. "This ship's been out here too long, and it looks like she's been too heavily damaged. With all of the exterior breaches and cracks, there's probably no way. I wouldn't be surprised if she vented every bit of her reaction mass when the accident happened."

"Sergeant, have your men search the ship for any bodies. Doctor, stay with me. Shawn, find the data storage and pull it. Let's be about it."

The party responded, and set about their work. In less time than it took O'Malley to pull the ship's data storage, one of the SM's had found a body. As the Doctor and Somerset approached it, they both knew that it wasn't human. It was an android.

In the days before hyperdrive, there were two kinds of ships. Human STL ships that travelled through the Sol System under the EarthCom flag, and ships with androids aboard that went back and forth doing whatever jobs were necessary.

EarthCom ships were around to protect from Insurgency "difficulties" through their sabotage of ships or uprisings in the colonies. Most out system repairs were executed by android ships, much like the one they were inside right now.

O'Malley walked up to them, and said, "I've got the data storage, sir. This ship was dispatched to inspect and repair a communications probe that EarthCom had lost contact with on May 21, 2765. On its way here, a malfunction caused the reactor mass to ignite on its way to the reaction thruster where it should normally be burned. The android went outside to effect repairs but the ship was too heavily damaged. It sent a distress signal but apparently the communications array was damaged in the attach as well, because no help was ever sent. The android remained online in case someone ever came near enough to help it. It went offline February 17, 2766."

"Mystery solved, I suppose. Keep the data storage with you, Shawn. Sergeant, have your men report back to the shuttle. We're returning to the ship," Somerset ordered.

Within 10 minutes, they were back aboard Swiftsure and Somerset was back in his command chair where Soran felt he belonged. Much more so than a vacuum filled death ship.

"Well, we've got a patrol to be on, so let's be about it. Com, send a message to CentCom and get a tow ship out here to pick up this navigation hazard. Guns, drop a nav buoy so the tow can find the bloody thing. Astro, plot a course to return us to our patrol route. Pilot, prepare to get underway," Somerset said, in a slightly clipped voice.

All of the officers quickly acknowledged and completed their tasks. Finally, Somerset was able to say, "Pilot, get us back on course, ahead standard."

"Ahead standard, aye," Allen responded.

Depressing the 1MC button, and waiting until the whistle finished, Somerset announced, "All hands, this is the Commander. Stand down to Condition 4 and set the cruising watch. Stand down to Condition 4 and set the cruising watch. That is all."

Somerset then worked on summing up the duty log, and then going to evening mess with all but the watch officers present. At 2000 he retured to the bridge for another watch.

At 0000 hours, Somerset recorded in the duty log;

5 April 3000

Coordinates 315X012X126

20-24

Steaming as before on base course 020dg inclination 45dg T, conforming to Patrol Pattern 4 at 0.85kps. Jumps at 2030 and 2230. Ship set at Condition 4, Material Conditon Alpha. Av. Reactor pressure at 42000 kilopascals.

Benjamin Arthur Somerset

Commander

[/RP]

[ 09-29-2001: Message edited by: Ben Somerset ]

[Commander Elio Jason]

{rp}

4/4/3000

GCV-Invader Bridge

Commander Elio Jason stood at his command chair on the bridge. Alone. He had many reasons for beeing alone but obvious reason was that his crew hadn't gotten here yet. On this date his battlecruiser was being commisioned. Rather re-commisioned he thought. He had commanded the GCV-Invader for 7 years. In those long years he had brought many Insurgents, criminals and raiders to justice.

He had his reasons.

"Let's see......Ahh...Crew roster." the roster listed the bridge crew.

Commander Elio Jason

Flight Officer Derrick Anderson

Navigations Officer Eric Anderson

Communications Officers Irene Smith

Tactical Officer Joanna Lexington

Combat Officer Zarui

Medical Officer Susie Michaels

Chief Engineer David Nighthawk

Research Engineer Ander Mason

"A long list indeed." Elio said. "Computer:

status of crew."

"All crew on shuttle 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5 approaching the ship. Flight Officer Derek Anderson in officer quarters. Flight engineers preparing interceptors. Interceptor pilots in ships."

"Thank you computer. Log me as Off Duty."

"Commander Elio Jason logged as off duty." the computer said.

In his quarters the 31 year old Commander suited up. He didn't know how he pulled it off but he had graduated from the academy at age 23. He had been a squadron leader and had served onboard a Firestorm.

In his GalCom uniform Elio made his way out of the room to the bridge, where his crew was waiting.

"Commander on the bridge!" boomed Derrick Anderson's voice as Elio entered the bridge. All eyes turned to him and everyone greeted him.

"Derrick, our status?"

"Invader will launch in a few minutes. Just making some last minute adjustments." Derrick answered.

"Joanna, set IOD to 10% and set the PTA system."

"Aye aye sir." Joanna replied and did as she was told.

"Zarui," he began looking around. An Empirian dressed in a GalCom officer uniform stepped up to him.

"Yes sir." the Empirian said in his unusual accent.

"Prep the troops for combat and relax. Got that?" Elio said.

Zarui stood stiff and saluted.

"Yes sir." Zarui said and went off to prep the troops.

Susie, David, and Ander left the room going to there stations. Elio strapped himself in.

"Invader will launch in 5 seconds."

The ship rocked suddenly and then the roar of the engines were heard.

In a few minutes the GCV-Invader had cleared the launch base.

"First order of business?" Elio asked Joanna.

"Patrol in Majoris sector." Joanna said.

"OK. Eric set course for Majoris." Elio said.

"Aye aye sir." Eric said. The Invader jumped to the jumpgate.

The GCV-invader had a job to do.{/rp}

[ 09-22-2001: Message edited by: Commander Elio Jason ]

[ 09-29-2001: Message edited by: Commander Elio Jason ]

[Guest]

[RP]

Fleet Commander Willis' Offices, GalCOM HQ

Earth, Geosynchronous Orbit, Zone 1

Sol

12:24 4th April 3000

DeSylva tugged at the collar of his dress uniform as he stood stiffly in an anteroom deep within GalCOM Fleet Command. The uniform was new, and still uncomofrtable. But as his fingers grazed over the sheer fabric they brushed the tabs that marked his rank.

Fleet Commander.

It's been along time since Credia and the Harridan, he thought idly to himself. A ship that was now orbitting in some Mars scrapyard, it's crew plying the space-lanes once more as free traders, a little more wary now of the Insurgency and the terrible price they charged for trespassing on their territory.

GalCOM HQ had changed little in the four years he'd been AWOL from his duties as a Medical Officer. It was as cold and as business-like as ever. Traders avoided it like the Empirian 'Flu, preferring to gather in Starpath or Orion Headqarters, in Jupiter. GalCOM HQ was far too ordered for their ilk.

Besides which, many of them had good reason not to come to the attention of curious GalCOM authorities. Just as DeSylva had, in those past four years. Running from a threat that GalCOM couldn't protect him from.

Until he'd discovered that maybe he could protect himself.

The secretary answered her intercom, before gesturing to DeSylva.

"Sir - Fleet Commander Willis will see you now."

"Thank you, Ensign," replied DeSylva softly. He smoothed his short beard and straightened his collar one more time, before stepping slowly into the office.

----

Inside, the lights were bright, and they gleamed off the surface of the clear alloy window that looked out into space itself. DeSylva stood to attention and saluted.

Fleet Commander Willis looked up from his desk, cold blue eyes scrutinising the newcomer. His face was deeply lined, and a scar across one cheek belied his years of active service. He cleared his throat.

"Come now, DeSylva, you know full well you don't have to salute me."

DeSylva stood at ease. "Thank you sir. Nice view, sir."

Willis turned to look through the panoramic viewport, before turning back to DeSylva. "I like it. It reminds what I'm fighting for. It makes a desk job that little bit more bearable. DeSylva, you have no idea how much of a pain in my ass you've become."

DeSylva remained still, carefully schooling his expression and fighting the reckless grin that threatened to spread across his face. "Sir?"

"And do not play the dumb act with me, Fleet Commander. I've had suborinates who do it better."

"Yes, sir."

Willis sighed deeply, turning in his chair to stare out at the spacescape once more.

"I wasn't initially a supporter of the decision to reinstate you. To restore you to active duty without time in the brig. And I was completely against awarding you a command position and fast-tracking you through the ACTP."

"Yes, sir. Thank you sir."

"I've already told you, don't play stupid." Willis voice was cold once more, and DeSylva nodded slowly, staring at the older man's back.

"Sir - I'm sorry, sir. I took my orders."

Willis turned around again. "Aye. I'm sure you did. I agreed because you had one very vocal supporter in there. And because your policies of moderation would be an advantage on the Fleet Council. Antti Junkkari is a hot-head. His suicidal tendencies put the entire alliance at risk. He spends most of his time pushing his Orion toys around Polarius and the Credian quadrant. Stone is right behind him, and Londono's no better. He concedes to Antti's every wish purely because he knows Orion's his main backup out there in the Gammulan quadrant. Quite frankly, the Supreme Commander Reines and myself were the only two in there with the slightest ounce of sense. We felt you'd be a valuable ally. This is despite your unorthodox Command methods. We have reports of your against-regulations living arrangements."

"Which ones would they be, sir?"

Willis slammed once hand down on the table. "I won't tell you again, Commander! Drop the stupidity act! You know damn well which ones I'm talking about. With one of your officers, for Christ's sake."

"You are referring to my partner, Lieutenant Commander Norbury?"

Willis nodded, slowly regaining his composure. "Yes, of course I am."

DeSylva turned away for a moment. "If you care to investigate, you will find that Lieutenant Commander Norbury is currently living in her own quarters."

Willis grimaced. "Of course she is. Because you know full well that I am aware of your little arrangement because I gave you over half of Prime Fleet's intelligence resources."

DeSylva nodded, and carefully sat down in a seat in the office. "I'm glad I could be of service, sir."

Willis smiled thinly. "Oh yes. You've been of service. But what really hurt is when you hit me with this proposal for an...an In-System Support fleet."

DeSylva's eyebrows raised slightly. "Sir, you can't deny that our defensive network is weak, virtually non-existent-"

Fleet Commander Willis cut him off. "Don't get me wrong, DeSylva. Your idea was sound. That's why you're sitting there with that extra pip on your collar. But do you have any idea how hard it was for me to pry ships off Prime? They're spoiling for a fight with the Gammulans as much as Orion. There's been rumours of the activation of the Special Defense Fleet for a Gammulan foray. I damn nearly had a mutiny on my hands."

DeSylva nodded. "Once more, I'm sorry sir."

Willis continued. "So while you're here, you might as well tell me how your fleet is going."

DeSylva leaned forward in his chair. "Sir, construction on Starstation Renegade is almost complete - we expect to bring systems online within the month. Commander Ristar is ovrseeing that. Centaur Wing is fully assigned and has begun patrols throughout Sol, led by Commanders Tringad and Zwycky. We are beginning to fill Pegasus Wing and deploy ships into Alpha Centauri and Omicron Eridani. However, to effectively field a defensive network we'll need more ships. I see at least four wings."

Willis laughed. "DeSylva, I had enough trouble getting you one wing, let alone four. Intelligence?"

DeSylva smiled. "Our central Intelligence Command is now operational and fully secure. The STARPOINT computer system is operational and in contact with our own ships and also Fleet Command. Assignments to Chimaera Wing are continuing and our first operatives are already in the field."

Willis nodded. "Good. This In-system Support fleet is functioning within parameters, then."

DeSylva frowned. "Sir, as yet we have not been resourced to activate the Tactical Support Command."

"That's because those resources are not there, Commander DeSylva. And there is some doubt over it's necessity."

DeSylva sat back in his chair. "Sir, just last wek two ships were put into drydock because they attempted to clear a mine field without appropriate equipment. The minesweeper GCV-Diana was just three jumps away. A central command for support ships could have saved two vessels then."

Willis nodded. "You're probably right. However, once more, we simply don't have the resources."

DeSylva clenched his jaw, before nodding and replying. "Yes sir."

Willis leaned back in his chair. "Now. Seeing as you called this meeting and managed to bluff your way into my appointment book at such short notice, why don't you tell me what was so important that it couldn't wait, DeSylva?"

DeSylva stood, and took several paces across the room, before turning to face Willis again.

"Sir. Why am I here?"

"You tell me, Fleet Commander, you arranged this."

"I don't mean that, sir." DeSylva began pacing again. "Sir, I want a straight answer. Why was I returned to duty? Why wasn't I courtmartialed and discharged?"

Willis looked down at the terminal on his desk. "Well, by the looks of these expenditure figures it was to create a damned expensive defense fleet. And practice being a pain in my-"

DeSylva cut him off, stopped pacing and stared him straight in the eye. "Sir, a straight answer. What does GalCOM want from me?"

Willis sighed, and pushed away from the desk, getting up and turning to walk towards the viewport. In the light of the office his reflection could be vaguely made out against the transparent titanium alloy.

"DeSylva...your discovery on the Harridan, in Trenis, wasn't an accident. We had...intelligence information that suggested you would be there."

"So why wasn't I counrtmartialed? I was caught AWOL, for God's sake."

Willis nodded. "The intelligence information also suggested you'd be under attack from an Insurgent vessel. A vessel that belonged to a splinter group, a group that call themselves The Voice."

DeSylva remained silent, and Willis continued. "You see, the intelligence we receieved was not with regards to tracking you down. It was in regard to a traitor. An Insurgent, who it is imperative we track down. And Insurgent who remains at large."

"What makes him so special?" asked DeSylva, and Willis waited several seconds, before replying, his voice heavy.

"His name is Neman Vorne."

"Vorne..." hissed DeSylva.

"Yes, I am aware of your history with Vorne," continued Willis. "And in part, that is what led us to you. It appears he was specifically targetting you."

This time, DeSylva turned away. When he spoke again, his voice was strangled and harsh. "We spent four years AWOL trying to escape him."

Willis nodded. "I know."

"We never even knew why he was attacking us. He was insane."

Willis shook hs head slowly. "He wasn't insane. And we do know why he was attacking you."

This time, the silence in the room was oppressive. It lasted so long that Willis drew in a breath, about to speak again, when DeSylva turned around slowly. He was glowering, an expression of anger on his face that Willis had never before seen.

"You know why he was destroying our lives?" asked DeSylva quietly. Willis nodded again. He turned to face the viewport, and gestured DeSylva over to stand by him. DeSylva stood stiff and unyielding in the center of the room. Willis shrugged, before continuing.

"DeSylva, did you know your mother's status as an Enhanced Human?"

DeSylva nodded once. "She was on List B of the Register of Enhanced Humans. She was a biological. She had limited psychic abilities."

Willis nodded. "And were you aware that your name also exists on List B of the Register of Enhanced Humans?"

DeSylva's brow furrowed. "I don't understand, sir."

Willis nodded. "DeSylva, I know this is hard, and perhaps we were wrong to hide what we knew, but we were waiting until we had our information completely assembled before we briefed you. DeSylva, you were listed at birth as having latent psychic abilities."

DeSylva took a few faltering steps towards the Fleet Commander. "But...I was never told."

Willis nodded. "There was never any need. Your abilities were latent - inaccessible to you. And at the time, attitudes towards the Enhanced were so hostile your mother was probably afraid to reveal your status. There are lots of people like you, all through the UFN."

DeSylva shook his head. "But...I've never..."

"Your aptitude tests? You failed the brain scan. And showed ECG abnormalities."

DeSylva looked up at Willis once more. "5% of humans are immune to brain scanning. And the ECG results were never quantified."

Willis nodded. "And of the 5% of humans who are immune to brain scanning, 5% of them are known to have latent psychic ability. You are in that 5%."

Willis put one hand up to touch the viewport. "DeSylva, Vorne was hunting you down because he knows that you are a threat. and that is precisely why GalCOM needs you."

"I still don't understand, sir."

Willis nodded. "Of course you don't. And neither do we, completely. What we know is that in the six years since Neman Vorne renegaded to the Insurgency, we have sent sixteen operatives after him to capture him, at Earth Command's request. The first six or so were found dead of natural causes. The rest were mutilated. The last three were found burned alive. The last one was still alive. A brain scan showed his neural function to be completely altered. He was insane, and so far has not recovered. It has all the hallmarks of someone with malicious psychic ability."

"So we think Vorne might have psychic ability?"

Willis shook his head. "DeSylva - we know he has. He's from Earth Command's research division. And he's growing stronger."

DeSylva's face paled in shock. "You mean - he's some kind of experiment?"

Willis cleared his throat. "You know full well that getting information from Earth Command is like getting blood from good old-fashioned moon rock. But from what we can gather - yes. He is - was - tied to some kind of Earth Command research project. And now he is on the loose and growing more powerful every day."

"And I am a threat, because?"

"You have faced him twice. Both times, you have walked away. No other person has done that. Your latent psychic powers seem to render you immune to his own abilities."

"I'm not the only Enhanced Human in GalCOM."

"But you're the only one who he can't touch. The last operative was Enhanced as well. And powerful. And right now he's on the GCV-Nightingale in a protective cell, for all the good being Enhanced did him."

DeSylva felt a cold shiver go down his spine. "You want me to find him."

"Yes. We do," was Willis' reply. "We need him either brought into GalCOM custudy, or if that is not possible - killed. That is why we took you back. That is why we gave you a ship. The First Light is simply a tool to enable you to bring him back."

"That's a hell of a tool."

"Fleet Command thinks it's worth it." Willis turned to face DeSylva. "The last operative - Shirika - was a friend. A good friend. I think it's worth it as well. You'll be briefed further when our intelligence gathering is complete. Discuss this with no one. Including your partner."

"You are dismissed."

------

GCV-First Light

Earth, Stationary Orbit (GalCOM HQ)

Sol

18:12 4th April 3000

Emma Norbury was ahead of him as they walked along the corridors of the GCV-First Light, the new Galactan Class carrier still gleaming from it's commission. Her hair was gathered in a regulation bun and she carried a datapad as she handed over from her brief stint in command on their way to the bridge. DeSylva smiled as he reached forward to caress her shoulder.

He started as she whirled and slapped his hand away. "I was under the impression that we were on duty, Commander."

He nodded. "We certainly are."

She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. "Then as per our agreement, do not touch me again until we are off."

Later on, in their quarters, off duty, she apologised.

"You were the one who made the agreement, Gareth," she smiled. He nodded, almost sheepish.

"Yes, I was. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

Emma was sitting at her desk and brushing her long hair out. DeSylva stood on the other side of the cramped officers' quarters admiring every movement. She smiled at him in the mirror. "So how did your meeting with Fleet Commander Willis go?"

He nodded. "Okay, I guess."

She looked at him. "Anything interesting come up?" DeSylva shook his head noncommittally.

"Nothing of note."

Emma's eyes narrowed. "Don't lie to me, Gareth."

"I'm not lying to you, Emma."

"Yes you are, and don't pull rank on me either. That's another thing we agreed on."

DeSylva grunted, before sitting on the bed. "How did you know?"

She smiled. "Your heart rate jumped by fifteen percent. Your autonomic nervous system kicked into overdrive. Your peripheral body temperature dropped by 0.2 of a degree."

DeSylva laughed wryly. "Damned implant."

Emma nodded and gently raised one hand to touch an almost imperceptibly lighter lock of hair on her scalp. "Yep. Just one more thing I have to thank Vorne for. Which reminds me, I have to renew my license with the Enhanced Human Register."

DeSylva looked away for a moment. "Do you still think about it, what happened with Vorne?"

Emma raised both eyebrows. "Of course." She pulled one corner of her tunic down, to reveal the top of one breast, the skin almost transparent, the hundreds of blue veins and blotched skin obvious. "I still bear the scars."

DeSylva looked away.

That's not the only scars we bear from his insane crusade, my dear...

[/RP]

[ 10-09-2001: Message edited by: DeSylva ]

[Cmdr Nova]

Hmm... 3 old timers (Blades, Somerset, and DeSylva), and 3 that have registered on or after March 2001. Let's make this a good one, boys!

(RP)

April 4th, 3000; 0200hrs

Shuttle

Earth Region, Sol

Alone in the shuttle, Nova walked to the command chair. The air was still, although the shuttle was already at max speed. He went to the controls and started to speak.

"Computer, set destination: Lennen. Oh, and disengage auto-pilot."

What a long night it had been. A long, cold night. But now he was away. Away, away from all the problems that hunted him down.

---

Alec's father had been killed a few weeks ago. The father who'd been there for him his entire childhood, then after raising the young Nova, went off and worked as a scientist for anonymous clients..... Almost like the old him disappeared... Or he was forced into staying there. Blackmailed into doing doing secret projects, with no contact with anyone else. His life stolen from him.

Either way, he wasn't there when Nova graduated and then joined the GalCom Academy. He wasn't there when Nova needed him. And then, his ship mysteriously vanishes, and everything just caves in on Alec.

Soonafter the incident, several mercenaries came to Alec. They wanted his father. They said it was imparative. But Nova didn't know what to say or how to find what they wanted. He didn't even know what happened, until they described it to him in detail.

---

To Nova, it was up to him to do this. Truth. And if it needed be, revenge. He didn't care if he was going AWOL or not. He didn't care about consequences. He already got the consequences of what his father left behind. He just wanted to get away from those troubles, find the truth, and make whoever did that evil deed regret it.

But Nova came across a sudden realization: those mercenaries did look and talk serious. Like there was something about his father's most recent project that they wanted. Or that the project might fall into the wrong hands. There could be trouble if they bumped into each other again. At least he wasn't a sitting duck in the Academy.

Although the situation looked like a bottomless pit, there was someone he knew that could help him with the mercenary predicament, and perhaps find information about his father's work. A man that he knew only as Cypher.....

---

April 4th, 3000; 0215

Jupiter Region, Sol

Nova's heart pounded as a klaxon sounded through the shuttle's cockpit. He pulled the holographic computer controls, and squeezed his hands around the semi-transparent flight controller. The orange-clear 3-dimensional controller, and the HUD floated just right in front of the pilot's seat. Quick reflex time, and incredible control was the main plus to this technological wonder.

---

There were 2 interceptors, and 1 shuttle deployed from a local Battlecruiser that happened to hear about his escape, and Grand Theft Shuttle . He was a security risk to them...... It wasn't like he knew anything, though. After all, he was still a cadet. Or at least he was a cadet. Now, he was a fugitive. A fugitive from the very people that he once envied.

He weaved the ship through the asteroid field, dodging the asteroids, outrunning the opposition.

"You can't handle my mad skills!" Nova yelled. It wasn't like they heard him because he didn't have a commlink, but it was natural for him to taunt any opponents. One of the interceptors wasn't nearly as agile as Nova's shuttle, and crashed into the surface of an asteroid.

The pilot yelling into his commlink, the 2+ km/s impact of the ship and the firey red iron-based asteroid, the big powdery poof as the ship crashed, and the explosion. The explosion lit the dark sky of space.

"Boo yah!"

That was the moment that Nova saw fit to escape his pursuers. He pressed a few buttons on the floating HUD, and let go of the flight controls.

"Computer prepare to jump. Target: Sirius. Engage auto-pilot, and continue en-route to Lennen."

The holo-flight controls disappeared from in front of him, leaving him with the HUD. He sat back in his chair, and watched the target cameras, observing the other ships.

Fools....

The space around him warped in on itself, while the stunned pursuit craft were still distracted. And seconds later he was in the Sirius jump gate.

(/RP)

Update: I decided to fix some of my chapter and re-write some of it. Just correcting that messiness that I talked about on page 2 of the non-RP thread for this story. No one has replied as of this update, so it's all good.

Nova, over and out.

[ 10-17-2001: Message edited by: Cmdr Nova ]

[ 10-21-2001: Message edited by: Cmdr Nova ]