Spring RTS Engine

+++ Data Transmitting +++
+++ Data Packet Received +++
+++ Decrypting... +++
+++ Decryption complete +++
To: Adam Calliger
From: IIA Head Directive Lewis

As you have no doubt become aware, a growing number of people, both in the army and without, are falling under the influence of an organisation calling itself the ├óÔé¼╦£Neo-Republic Civilian Liberation Front├óÔé¼Ôäó. The ├óÔé¼╦£NCLF├óÔé¼Ôäó as it is more commonly known as, tends to affect / attract the young idealists. The war against the Hellion invaders had dragged on for several years now, and our resources are beginning to run dry. This has, of course, had a major effect on the galactic economy and the stock market has managed to crash itself twice in four months. This has had a very detrimental effect on the living standards, particularly those in the poorer outlying sectors. This drop in standards has created a large amount of animosity against the current government. As the Governmental Elections are still several years off, those in the poorer communities have come to believe that they have no way of replacing the current government, and that if there is a new government system, this whole problem will go away. Which is of course ridiculous (the Hellion are not going to simply apologise and walk off if we replace Chancellor Alckright with one of his political opponents!). These dissidents have taken up arms and are fighting a surprisingly effective guerrilla warfare against their local PDF forces. Indeed, the PDF regiments on several systems have actually joined the rebel forces. More worrying, however, is that the NCLF fighters are surprisingly well armed. The industrial districts aren├óÔé¼Ôäót to blame, with their wages the workers there are quite content. The tales of rebelling PDF units are few and far between and the NCLF have no real way of distributing their arms. Most planets also have some form of gun control as well, and most now-a-days have blanket-bans on all weapons because of the NCLF threat. Yet still, the dissidents seem to be constantly gaining in terms of arms and support. My only guess is that they are being supplied by some organisation who├óÔé¼Ôäós interests lie in the destabilisation of the current government. The IIA has been tasked with investigating and removing both this unknown organisation and the NCLF. We are calling you in because of your knowledge in espionage and your role in the discovery of the Rowans├óÔé¼Ôäó Conspiracy. You will arrive at the IIA Head Quarters on Terth the day after tomorrow, 13 pm, standard time. A shuttlecraft will be waiting for you at the Tenowan SpacePort in Lewershem. Good Luck, Mr Calliger.

Head Directive Lewis

+++ Message Ends +++

+++ Encrypting├óÔé¼┬ª +++
+++ Encryption Complete +++
+++ Sending Data Packet +++
+++ Data Packet sent├óÔé¼┬ª +++
+++ Data Packet received +++
To: IIA Head Directive Lewis
From: Adam Calliger

I will be there

+++ Message Ends +++

James Calliger sighed and clamped the message-top shut with a mild slam. He leaned back in his swivel-chair and pressed his hands against his head. Today had not been a good day. His company (Calligers Inc.) had suffered badly with the new economic crisis (Locally known as the ├óÔé¼╦£Hellion Crash├óÔé¼Ôäó, it was also called several other, more vulgar things in the pubs and bars all around), so a new job was sort of welcome, but Calliger would have preferred to have brought Calligers Inc back from the brink rather than simply abandoning it. He flipped the message-top back up again, just to be sure the message had been addressed to him. Again. He scribbled some words onto a piece of paper and handed it to his secretary before leaving.

He entered his car. One of the few things he liked about the planet he was on (Planet Towii) were the car designers. His was a very curvy, pale blue one with auto-washers. He├óÔé¼Ôäód long since thrown the furry dice that came with it into the incinerator. He was following the orders outlined on the message from the IIA, driving to the Tenowan Spaceport. Well, actually he was driving on to the monorail station to catch a rail to Lewershem. The monorail had a terminal in the spaceport, so he wouldn├óÔé¼Ôäót be taking the car. On his arrival, he told it to return home. The car, after a few moments of figuring out a route, drove off.

The terminal was packed. People shuffled in and around as they bustled and hustled. Calliger ended up at the wrong terminal twice in the madness. Having been jostled about for half an hour, Calliger found the right terminal, but discovered that the rail he had been after had departed. The next was in a half-hour, so he sat at a glass bench and waited.

├óÔé¼┼ôWhere is the bastard?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones asked tersely.
├óÔé¼┼ôHe├óÔé¼Ôäóll be here.├óÔé¼┬Ø Sanderson replied, though it sounded like he was no longer believing it
├óÔé¼┼ôOh, I know that, but do we have to stand out in the cold waiting for him?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones snapped.
The two pilots were sat shivering under the wing of their shuttlecraft, watching the rain fall.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhen was he supposed to arrive?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôUh, today, I think├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou don├óÔé¼Ôäót know?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHe didn├óÔé¼Ôäót say├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jones snorted. Ground-bound people never really cared much for promptness.
├óÔé¼┼ôAny idea what the little bastard looks like?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHaven├óÔé¼Ôäót a clue├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôGreat. I├óÔé¼Ôäóm going for a caffeine├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôDon├óÔé¼Ôäót get me one. That stuff tastes like crap├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôKeeps you awake├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jones eased his way out of his deckchair, bashed his head on the underside of the wing, cursed, and walked off. Sanderson just shuffled in his chair slightly. He wanted sleep, not drug induced insomnia.

The mansion was in a bad state; burned, battered and bruised with the local rioting. Yet it was still standing, whilst similar upper-class housing for miles around had been burnt to the ground. And the mansion was still in the possession of it├óÔé¼Ôäós original owner. For this reason, the two men, wearing large long-coats to ward against the rain, had come here. The armed guards let them pass.
The two men walked up the steps to the main entrance, which was fortunately sheltered against the snow by a balcony above. Two women were waiting for them. One was in a black and blue two-piece and looked like a local, the other wore the same uniform as the guards and had the rugged look of a fighter. She was also tanned, something impossible to get on this cold rock.
Once under the protection of the balcony, the two men lowered their hoods. One had long dark-blonde hair. The other was much older, balding with iron-grey hair. His face was chiselled, wrinkled and scarred. The blonde├óÔé¼Ôäós face looked relatively unharmed. Both looked emotionless. The woman in black and blue walked forwards, offering a hand with neither of the two men took.
├óÔé¼┼ôLady Montoya will be here shortly. I am afraid she has a lot of work to be doing at this time├óÔé¼┬Ø She said.
├óÔé¼┼ôRest assured ma├óÔé¼Ôäóam, we have no wish to waste any more of Miss Montoya├óÔé¼Ôäós time than we have to.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman in black and blue looked slightly startled, whilst the militaristic one merely gave a slight grin.
├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóm Lady Donnel. This Luciana Taylor, our head of security├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôInvestigator Galligan Adams├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôLieutenant Sam Anders├óÔé¼┬Ø
Again no hands were shaken.
├óÔé¼┼ôWould you follow me please?├óÔé¼┬Ø Lady Donnel asked, opening the doors and gesturing into a foyer. Investigator Adams nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôIf I am to follow you, you must be ahead of me. Ladies first├óÔé¼┬Ø
Lady Donnel again looked caught off guard. She seemed very nervous. Miss Taylor, however, grinned again, looking perfectly calm. Definitely not from this system.
Lady Donnel entered the foyer, followed by Inspector Adams and Lt. Anders. Miss Taylor took up the rear.

They entered the main hall. The roof had collapsed, and the floor was covered in splintered wood and bits of the local concrete and a thick layer of snow. A pathway had been cleared to the two corridors at each end of the oncoming wall. A number of workers were scurrying around with boxes and load-bearing machines. Lady Donnel shooed them away with a slightly panicked flick of her hand. The two men watched the workers with grim interest. Miss Taylor, Anders noticed, was also watching the workers with a mixture of surprise and concern. To employ low-paid workers to repair a house of the rich was asking for trouble this deep in NCLF territory.
├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóm sorry about the mess├óÔé¼┬Ø Lady Donnel said, hastily adding ├óÔé¼┼ôThose NCLF bastards├óÔé¼┬Ø
The word ├óÔé¼╦£bastards├óÔé¼Ôäó just didn├óÔé¼Ôäót come out right in her voice.
├óÔé¼┼ôFortunately you have security here Lady Donnel├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOh, yes, fortunately we do├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWe only arrived yesterday├óÔé¼┬Ø Taylor added. She was watching Lady Donnel with suspicion.
So the security here were off worlders? That was promising.
├óÔé¼┼ôPlease take a seat,├óÔé¼┬Ø Lady Donnel said, gesturing to some seats ├óÔé¼┼ôLady Montoya will be here shortly├óÔé¼┬Ø
She hurried off. The two men took their seats. Miss Taylor, with nothing else to do, joined them.

├óÔé¼┼ôI brought you a caffeine├óÔé¼┬Ø Said Jones, returning with two plastic cups, to find Sanderson asleep in his chair. Jones just shrugged.
├óÔé¼┼ôMore for me├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, taking a glug.
He sighed contentedly after finishing the cup, before throwing it at the nearby garage can. He missed, and cursed at doing so. Bringing his coat about him, he braved the rain and kicked the cup into the bin. Couldn├óÔé¼Ôäót risk it getting sucked into the engine on take-off.
He ran back to his seat, and, dripping, sat down and went back to staring out at the rain.

├óÔé¼┼ôWhen did you arrive?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôTwo weeks ago. We were forced to stay after the snow took the spaceports out of service. The phrase is ├óÔé¼╦£Snowed-In├óÔé¼Ôäó I believe├óÔé¼┬Ø
Anders grunted
├óÔé¼┼ôShitty weather├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôQuite├óÔé¼┬Ø
Miss Taylor leaned back and stretched.
├óÔé¼┼ôWe took the job because we needed something to do. This ├óÔé¼╦£Lady Montoya├óÔé¼Ôäó practically leaped for joy when we turned up. They couldn├óÔé¼Ôäót wait to give us the contract. I don├óÔé¼Ôäót think they were expecting professionals.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat do know about this lot├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôLady Montoya? From first appearances, she seems both lucky and stupid. Lucky because her house is still standing and she hasn├óÔé¼Ôäót been lynched by the NCLF yet. Stupid because she still uses her title and she├óÔé¼Ôäós employed the unemployed to repair the place ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ did you see them? She├óÔé¼Ôäós either got a lot of balls or a lot of empty space between her ears. The NCLF will turn up with torches and shotguns any day now. I├óÔé¼Ôäóm beginning to regret taking the contract├óÔé¼┬Ø
Better and better
├óÔé¼┼ôSo you think the NCLF simply haven├óÔé¼Ôäót noticed her yet?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWell, this place is on a big mountain.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhich makes it very obvious.├óÔé¼┬Ø Said Inspector Adams. ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd judging from the damage to the place, I think the NCLF did notice. No, there├óÔé¼Ôäós something else at work here.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou mean she├óÔé¼Ôäós a collaborator? Oh fuck!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou├óÔé¼Ôäóre not with them?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHell no!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Brilliant. The security were no longer secure

Lady Montoya was watching the conversation on the monitors.
├óÔé¼┼ôOh, shit├óÔé¼┬Ø she muttered. She threw open a ceiling hatch and ascended into the attic. The place was full of boxes, and also people. The two men lowered their weapons. The others simply watched.
├óÔé¼┼ôLizzy!├óÔé¼┬Ø One of them called, running up to her. They enjoyed a brief embrace.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat├óÔé¼Ôäós wrong?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôLots of things. Ian, listen to me, very carefully.├óÔé¼┬Ø

Calliger arrived at the Tenowan spaceport. He checked his private dataslate to find the right platform and went to the nearest lift, stopping only to buy a cheap umbrella. He ascended the lift and, upon exiting it, opened up the umbrella, which promptly blew away in the wind.

├óÔé¼┼ôWoah!├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones exclaimed, nearly falling off his chair and something black wizzed past
├óÔé¼┼ôHuh, what?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI think just got attacked by a low-flying umbrella.├óÔé¼┬Ø He replied.
├óÔé¼┼ôHumph├óÔé¼┬Ø
Sanderson went back to sleep

Calliger climbed the stairs, cursing the damn umbrella. The platforms were swept with wind and rain, reducing visibility by quite a lot. He checked the dataslate again, keeping a firm grip on it so that that didn├óÔé¼Ôäót blow away too. The ship he was after was on platform nine. He had to peer at the signs to see which was which ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ he was at platform one. He walked on, checking each signpost as he did so.

├óÔé¼┼ôWakey, wakey Craig, someone├óÔé¼Ôäós coming!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWah...?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWake up! El Late-guy arrived├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYay.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóll warm the ship up├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou do that├óÔé¼┬Ø

Calliger finally found platform nine. The shuttlecraft was white, sem-silhouetted against the dungy sky. A pair of deck chairs were being collected by the ship├óÔé¼Ôäós pilot. The guy looked tired. He walked up to the ship. The pilot looked up as he stuffed the chairs in a slide-out compartment. He opened the hatch and jerked his head at it, telling him to enter the ship without saying anything. The pilot then when removing the holding cables. He entered an airlock, which didn├óÔé¼Ôäót do anything because of the atmosphere, and entered the bulk of the ship. It was a mass of metal plating, wires and pipes. The floor did have a carpet, but it looked like it hadn├óÔé¼Ôäót been cleaned for sometime. He noticed the two pilot seats and hoped he wouldn├óÔé¼Ôäót be co-piloting. He hadn├óÔé¼Ôäót flown for decades.
├óÔé¼┼ôHello there. What kept you?├óÔé¼┬Ø
It was another pilot. He wouldn├óÔé¼Ôäót have to dig up the days of flying commercial ships.
├óÔé¼┼ôThe Monorail. Missed the train├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWell done. You nearly missed us too.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The airlock door shut behind him and the first pilot he had met brushed past him.
├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóm Jones, the second one said, ├óÔé¼┼ôThat├óÔé¼Ôäós Sanderson├óÔé¼┬Ø
Calliger took and shook the offered hand. ├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóm James Calliger├óÔé¼┬Ø

Lady Donnel poked her head around the study door again.
├óÔé¼┼ôLady Montoya will be here in a moment├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOkay├óÔé¼┬Ø
Lady Donnel disappeared. A poor girl, that Donnel. It was quite clear that she was in over her head. Whether or not she was a collaborator or was working here because she knew she wouldn├óÔé¼Ôäót live very long outside the mansion was, however, harder to tell. If she wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót working here out of choice she might live.
├óÔé¼┼ôTaylor,├óÔé¼┬Ø Anders whispered ├óÔé¼┼ôget your team ready├óÔé¼┬Ø
Taylor nodded and slipped away.
├óÔé¼┼ôAnders,├óÔé¼┬Ø Adams whispered ├óÔé¼┼ôYou get out too. Find out as much as you can about the mansion├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat about Montoya?├óÔé¼┬Ø Anders whispered back
├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóll deal with her. Go├óÔé¼┬Ø
Anders nodded and walked off as well.

Elizabeth Montoya zipped her suit up at the back. It was grey and green and surprisingly comfortable. All exits were shut tight, trapping a layer of air between her and the suit, a layer which would get warmer from body heat and provide a layer of insulation against the outdoor cold. Which was good ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ Montoya knew she would probably have to get outside. Fast. Their professional security team turned out to be a little too smart, and much too loyal to the Terran Government Authority. Damn Offworlders. Ian and his men were set up and ready. They could possibly hold the mansion ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ The Investigator didn├óÔé¼Ôäót know about Ian. Yes, it would work. She brushed her hair ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ as a Lady she nearly always needed to look presentable ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ and she stood, checking herself in the mirror. She slipped a pistol into a side pocket and, using the mirror, checked to see if it was visible. It wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót. Perfect.

├óÔé¼┼ôLady Montoya - ├óÔé¼┬Ø Lady Donnel stopped short when she noticed that Anders and Taylor were missing ├óÔé¼┼ôLady Montoya will see you now├óÔé¼┬Ø She opened the door and held it for him. He nodded to her in thanks and entered. The door closed of it├óÔé¼Ôäós own accord and Lady Donnel ran away as fast as she could.
The first thing Adams thought on meeting Montoya was: ├óÔé¼┼ôShe├óÔé¼Ôäós got a gun in that pocket├óÔé¼┬Ø

==============================
PRODUCTION NOTES

Yes, Elizabeth Montoya is a nod to Darkside. I wouldn't have started writing for ze internets if it weren't for zoombie and his uber-story

Also: Woot for detail! And Character development! And the artistic freedom you get from writing in the Third Person!

EDIT: And, despite being 7-6 pages in word, it's still not longer than the Darkside: Extermination posts... I give up sometimes, I really do. Zoombie, you must have, like 4 arms or something!

EDIT: And on a slightly random note: Ich habe avatar! Drew it up myself in paint (with slight additions in the GIMP)

Actually it is. My posts are just five to six page's. Good show.

heheh...low flying unbrella.

Oh, shit. Missed out quite a lot of formatting. Crap, crap, crap

Still read well.

I meant to put some words in italics for the correct emphisis

Still reads well, damn it!

├óÔé¼┼ôNow, whilst this thing can go into outer-space, it was primarily designed for travelling around on the same planet, without passing the atmosphere. So it wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót build for zero-gee / micro-gravity. So we need to strap in lest be bump into something we shouldn├óÔé¼Ôäót, okay?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Calliger nodded. Micro-gravity? That didn├óÔé¼Ôäót sound good. Jones slipped easily into his seat and clipped in. Sanderson clipped a rather numb Calliger before taking his seat.
├óÔé¼┼ôMicro Gravity?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes. Micro Gravity.├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones answered, turning around in his seat to look at Calliger. That├óÔé¼Ôäós were he saw the look on his face ├óÔé¼┼ôIt├óÔé¼Ôäós still gravity, there├óÔé¼Ôäós just a lot less of it.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôEspecially on something this big├óÔé¼┬Ø Sanderson added
├óÔé¼┼ôGreat├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNow what?├óÔé¼┬Ø Sanderson asked to Jones. Jones took a clipboard off the wall it had been attached to by magnets. He began reading off it.
├óÔé¼┼ôEngines at running temperature...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôCheck├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôBrake engines clear...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôCheck├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôTow cable taut...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôCheck├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôMiss Montoya├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôLady. Investigator Adams├óÔé¼┬Ø
No hands were offered and consequently none were shaken.
├óÔé¼┼ôMay I inquire as to why you are here?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNo.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôCome now Investigator, One cannot merely enter someone├óÔé¼Ôäós abode and not provide a reason for doing so, can they?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThe reason is in the name├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóm sorry...?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI am an Investigator, and you ask me why I have come├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAh.├óÔé¼┬Ø She caught on ├óÔé¼┼ôI am suspect├óÔé¼┬Ø She drew herself to her full height, about a head above Adams, but Adams still looked the most imposing.
├óÔé¼┼ôYes. You are.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWell. What do you want to know?├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôFuel Cells locked...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôCheck├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôFuel Cells full...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôUh, I├óÔé¼Ôäóll check├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôBatteries charged...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNo, I mean I├óÔé¼Ôäóll have to check├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThe Batteries or the Fuel?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôLatter├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOh, sorry.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNo problem├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôYour mansion is deep within NCLF territory, but still standing. Why?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Montoya tried to reply but Adams didn├óÔé¼Ôäót give her the chance.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou have low paid workers but live a life of luxury, and the NCLF haven├óÔé¼Ôäót hanged you yet. Why? You employ a security team on the day you learn of my visit. Why? And most important of all, Miss Montoya, is...├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôYeah, they├óÔé¼Ôäóre full├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôExcellent. Batteries charged...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôCheck├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAnd... NEO shields up├óÔé¼┬Ø ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ the ├óÔé¼╦£NEO shields├óÔé¼Ôäó, or Near-Engine-Objects shields were basically large walls that popped up around the side lines of the launch pad, preventing anything getting on the platform that shouldn├óÔé¼Ôäót. With the shuttle clamped down, the pad rotated. The shuttle├óÔé¼Ôäós nose was pointed to the sky and anything on the platform would have fallen into the launch pit so that they couldn├óÔé¼Ôäót get sucked into the engines.
├óÔé¼┼ôThat├óÔé¼Ôäós the other reason we need to be strapped in├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones said to Calliger.
├óÔé¼┼ôActivating Secondary Sequence.├óÔé¼┬Ø Sanderson said. At the flip of a switch, the giant turbofans welded to the sides spun into life and the ship began pulling at the clamps.
├óÔé¼┼ôActivating Primary Sequence.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The primary sequence was more complicated than the secondary ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ it required precision timing that only a computer could achieve. The engines warmed up, the clamps disengaged and the rockets fired, propelling the craft up, up and away.

├óÔé¼┼ôWhy do you have a gun in your left hand pocket?├óÔé¼┬Ø

The ship rose atop a pillar of smoke and flame

Adams├óÔé¼Ôäó quick remark threw Montoya off balance, and Adams kicked the legs out from under her.

├óÔé¼┼ôWe├óÔé¼Ôäóre hot!├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones shouted to Anders over the noise

Adams raised a gun to her head. ├óÔé¼┼ôElizabeth Montoya,├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôHold on to your harnesses!├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones called out to no-one in particular as the ship rocketed upwards

├óÔé¼┼ôYou are hereby under arrest├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôWheeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôBy order of the Imperial Inquisition├óÔé¼┬Ø

The roar of the engines gradually began to diminish
├óÔé¼┼ôWe├óÔé¼Ôäóre leaving the atmosphere!├óÔé¼┬Ø Sanderson called out.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhoooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôStop that!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôPhweeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôFucking idiot├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôOpen fire!├óÔé¼┬Ø came a male voice from the upper levels, and bullets thudded into the walls and floor, but Adams was no longer there.
The basic Imperial Inquisitorial Investigator had a lot of implants, bioengineering and could only reach the rank of Investigator at the behest of another Investigator. That meant that the basic Imperial Inquisitorial Investigator had to be pretty damn skilled, and be pretty damned skilled without the aid of nanotechnology.
So imagine how quick, fast and down-right deadly a Lord Investigator with at least seven decades under his belt must be.
Adams had scooted behind a pillar as soon as voice sounded.
├óÔé¼┼ôLizzy, go!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Montoya scrambled to her feet and began to run. Adams raised his gun (though he was mindful to keep it behind the cover of the now crumbling pillar) and caught her in her side.

The bullet pierced the insulation suit, the skin and slit past her stomach, clipping a rib too for good measure. Fortunately for Elizabeth, the bullet didn├óÔé¼Ôäót explode inside her, as it was designed to. It exploded in the wall. Elizabeth fell to the floor, sliding on her own blood and the concrete dust to the door, screaming in agony the entire way.

├óÔé¼┼ôNo!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Ian Keller scrambled down the stairs to reach Elizabeth. That damn Invie had clipped her in the side, and now she writhing in foetal position by the side door. He pulled her up, she threw her arm over his shoulder whilst keeping another on the exit wound and he dragged her off. At that moment Luciana Taylor and her security force burst in and opened fire.

The mansion, being big and expensive, had it├óÔé¼Ôäós own little rail link to the monorail system. Ian was very grateful that they had left it intact. He dragged her into one of the cars and strapped her in. He pulled a medpack from the cabinet and threw it to her. Then he grabbed for the mansion├óÔé¼Ôäós PA system.

The NCLF rebels fell back, or simply fell, at the onslaught of Taylor├óÔé¼Ôäós security force, who had them out-trained and out-gunned, if not out-numbered. Plasma rifles spewed their deadly payloads with unerring accuracy, burn holes in their chests that were both large and deep. They died messily. The security force had full combat armour, and with all being ex-soldiers in the TLA, they knew exactly what to do and when to do it.

Adams joined Taylor├óÔé¼Ôäós side as the loudspeakers blared to life
├óÔé¼┼ôAttention all NCLF forces! Fall back to the M-Rail Station! Repeat, retreat to the MRS!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThis place has a monorail?├óÔé¼┬Ø Taylor asked incredulously
├óÔé¼┼ôApparently so.├óÔé¼┬Ø

Ian ran back to Lizzy in her seat. She seemed to have lost consciousness, and Ian began to panic slightly. He snatched up the unopened medical pack, catching her wound in the process. Lizzy groaned and opened her eyes. Then Ian really started panicing.

The two had met before the uprising. He had been a bank clerk, she had been what she was now (A lady, not someone with a gunshot wound). We just, well, fell in together. They had got engaged in the Spring. When Ian had considered joining the NCLF Lizzy had backed him all the way; letting them use the mansion as a base of operations. Of course, the rioters didn├óÔé¼Ôäót know, and so attacked the mansion like they did any other, but the NCLF managed to make them leave without much fuss. They set up camp in the attics and basement, using the lower cells for storage. They even left the damage as a camouflage. Obviously it wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót good enough, and the Imperial Inquisition arranged a visit.

The NCLF presence on Gallim was not nearly enough to be able to withstand the might of the TLA, and with all the local riots they had actually lost a lot of public support. So staying hidden was the plan. As soon as they heard an Investigator would be arriving at the premises in a days├óÔé¼Ôäó time, they quickly threw together a plan. Lizzy hired an offworlder security team, who, being better than the other hireable thugs, they practically jumped at for joy and dressed some of the NCLF members up as workers and set them about clearing up the place so that it appeared that the damage was recent. Unfortunately, it was in vain, and the plan basically collapsed.

The offworlders, being offworlders, were still loyal to the TGA, something they really should have foreseen. And they hadn├óÔé¼Ôäót thought of how their own organisation would have reacted to the presence of low-paid ├óÔé¼╦£workers├óÔé¼Ôäó, again something they should have thought of. The whole plan had been a rush-job, and the repercussions were painfully (very painfully) obvious. Elizabeth├óÔé¼Ôäós eyes had gone pearly, unfocused and glassed. She was looking into his eyes and it pained him to looked back into them. They were dulled with pain.

Elizabeth spasmed slightly and arched her back. Ian remembered the medical pack, pulled out a pair of painkiller sticks and jabbed them into her arm. Lizzy sighed slightly and her head lolled to one side. He sprinkled an antiseptic and a healing agent (it helped blood clot) on the wound, jabbed in a cloth, ignoring her slight wince, and wrapped a bandage around her midsection.

Lizzy raised her head and looked at him again. Her eyes were still clouded. They needed to get her to a medical fast. He kissed her on the forehead and ran to the train controls, firing up the engines to thaw their ice covering. Then he heard gunfire in the entrance corridor.

├óÔé¼┼ôDocking in five, four, three, two, one, we├óÔé¼Ôäóre docked├óÔé¼┬Ø. The shuttlecraft got drawn onto the large holding magnets. Jones unclipped himself and floated gracefully into a side compartment while Sanderson twiddled and flicked a few switches. Calliger had definitely not enjoyed that little trip. The turbulence in exiting the atmosphere nearly made him throw up. A pre-flight snack had been a bad idea. Jones returned bearing spacesuits.
├óÔé¼┼ôHere, put these on.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhere are we?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThe Orbital Dock├óÔé¼┬Ø

They suited up in silence, pulling the suits over their ordinary clothes. The suits had several layers, and could protect against extremely low temperatures and radiation and was of a thick and sturdy enough material to prevent a burst in a vacuum or by being hit / caught on sharp objects. It was the temperature protection that had made Jones get them out. As the shuttle powered down, so did the heaters. Several parts of the ship froze. The only heat was coming from the electricity lines that powered the airlock.

They entered the airlock in silence ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ the suits had no intercom system and the visors muffled everything they tried to say to each other to the point of illegibility. The air was drained back into the tanks and the outer hatch opened into a rubber walkway that had extended out to meet the docking port. The rubber, particularly in the zero-gravity, was nice and bouncy, something Jones made the most of until Sanderson grabbed his leg and forced back down.

Calliger moved forwards with care. Every step he took on the spongy, constantly moving floor made him feel even queasier. Jones and Sanderson reached another airlock door, opened it and entered. The airlock was a pure white, with pale blue florescent strips along the edges of the walls. The pair turned and watched Calliger stumble in with impatience. Bloody ground-hogs.

The room repressurised with a hiss. Jones and Sanderson took off their helmets and turned once again on Calliger, who was struggling to take off his helmet. He finally managed it and then noticed their expressions.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø

NCLF troops poured onto the monorail train. Lizzy was comatose again and Ian was fiddling with the rail controls. He hadn├óÔé¼Ôäót driven one of these in years. The engines were still warming up and the cabin was still freezing cold. He tried to start the train moving but failed. It just coughed rather pathetically.

├óÔé¼┼ôBloody fuel lines have frozen!├óÔé¼┬Ø he muttered.
The train didn├óÔé¼Ôäót run on petrol, it ran on a strange little concoction that froze at about 120├é┬║C. Ian picked up a portable heater and strapped it onto the fuel line. After a few moments, he tried the engines again. They roared to life and the monorail departed for the Lymbassi Spaceport.

=============================================
PRODUTION NOTES

Hurrah for decent length

And semi-decent science!

EDIT: And no hurrahs for forgetting to split the paragraphs up a bit.

EDIT: Also, Mk2 is half as long as the previous version, and they haven't even seen the Alaskus yet! Re-do's rule

I like this one a lot better then Mrk 1. For one thing it makes slightly more sence, and is more fun to read. And it has a homage to me!

Yes, I'd thought you might like that. Darkside is best (as in: the only one I read to the end except for The End Of The World... one)

No please, you give me too little credit

Too little...?

Yeah, probably. I'm not good at gauging the amount of praise due

...

I've just realised that of the 9 pages in this thread, 7 are us two idly chatting...

├óÔé¼┼ôWelcome, my little boys and girls, to the Orbital Dock!├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones exclaimed.
It wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót that much of a dock really. They had simply entered a corridor, with the same style and lighting of the airlock they├óÔé¼Ôäód just left. Also like the airlock, it had little to no gravity to speak of. The two pilots were at perfect ease with it and were quite happily scooting around like a pair of fish. Calliger however, kept bumping into things and wished the two would slow down. The corridor was semi-circular, like a donut cut in two. The walls covered in doors, most of which had locking devices. Jones and Sanderson appeared to be following the guideposts to the lift. Calliger pushed off towards them, forcing any others to weave out of his way. The space-dwellers had all the grace of underwater fish. Calliger had all the grace of a large stone.

The two pilots had long since reached the ├óÔé¼╦£lift├óÔé¼Ôäó (which basically was a big tube that, after pushing off the pad, you shot up until you found the correct floor) and were again waiting for Calliger.
├óÔé¼┼ôCan├óÔé¼Ôäót we just ditch the bitch?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones muttered
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat, and break his little gravity-loving heart?├óÔé¼┬Ø Sanderson replied with a grin.

Calliger arrived and bounced off the wall. Jones grabbed him by the foot and pulled him into the lift. Calliger, getting fairly used now to zero-gee travel, managed to rotate himself onto his feet. The two pilots had waited for him to orientate himself before pushing off up the lift tube. Calliger felt more like dead weight than ever.

Adams decapitated an NCLF soldier, ducked under a clumsy swing with a rifle but and rolled to one side, slicing his sword across the back of the knees of another soldier, who fell to the ground screaming. Taylor jumped nimbly over the writhing body and kicked one in the head mid jump, shooting him after landing. The two moved up the corridor, killing as they went. They reached the mono-rail station as the doors clamped shut
├óÔé¼┼ôFuck!├óÔé¼┬Ø said Taylor beating on the door. She peered through the pane glass window. ├óÔé¼┼ôThe trains left already├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôDamn it!├óÔé¼┬Ø Adams nearly shouted. ├óÔé¼┼ôFollow me├óÔé¼┬Ø
He turned on his heel and ran back down the corridor, through Montoya├óÔé¼Ôäós study and into the main hall. Taylor did her best to keep up.

The pair ran into Anders, with Lady Donnel and two cooks in tow.
├óÔé¼┼ôAnders!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôGalligan!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Taylor caught up, saw Lady Donnel and raised her weapon, but Anders stopped her.
├óÔé¼┼ôThey├óÔé¼Ôäóre Loyalists├óÔé¼┬Ø He turned to Adams again ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat├óÔé¼Ôäós going on?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôMontoya├óÔé¼Ôäós escaping via monorail. Found anything?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah. This place is an NCLF den. They├óÔé¼Ôäóve got weapons, communication equipment, mainframes, the works. I├óÔé¼Ôäóve collected a lot of memory sticks├óÔé¼┬Ø he shook a pouch tied to his belt. ├óÔé¼┼ôI also found these three in the pantry├óÔé¼┬Ø
Lady Donnel and the two cooks looked scared out of their wits
├óÔé¼┼ôWe├óÔé¼Ôäóve just cleared out Montoya├óÔé¼Ôäós study. She what you find├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhere are you going?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôMontoya├óÔé¼Ôäós going to the nearest spaceport. So are we├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôGood Luck. What about these three?├óÔé¼┬Ø He gestured to Lady Donnel and the cooks
├óÔé¼┼ôWe├óÔé¼Ôäóll take them with us. They can├óÔé¼Ôäót stay on this planet anyway├óÔé¼┬Ø
Anders nodded and stood aside as Adams, Taylor and her security force ran out of the mansion. He then entered the study, saw the sheer number of computers and flexed his fingers.
├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóm going to need a bigger bag├óÔé¼┬Ø

They had arrived at a caf├â┬® via the lift tube. The caf├â┬® was a giant hollow hemisphere, whose walls, after going up about a meter, were glass, looking out upon the Orbital Dock. The Dock had been painted white on purpose ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ if it was painted dark there was a chance that a ship wouldn├óÔé¼Ôäót see it, keep moving towards where it thought it was and collide. The caf├â┬® dome was the centre of the dock. Extending out of each side were two docking arms and launch platforms. At the end of each arm where railgun batteries of four. Were there wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót a docking arm there were magnetic docks for smaller ships like their own. The docking arms held ships in place with clamp wires and magnets.

There were numerous ships in the dock. Three dock ports were taken up by military repair vessels. They were spewing forth repair drones. The other ships were a mish-mash of big, small; military, corporate, freelance; freighter, cruiseliner, medical.

A military Dreadnought limped into the dock, actually drifting sideways with smoke billowing out of numerous holes in it├óÔé¼Ôäós side. The frontal section, with the bridge, control systems and the like had been smashed up completely. Two of the repair ships undocked and brought it carefully into the dock, their drones swarming over it. They were lucky that it wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót going too fast.

Numerous other ships ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ part of the Dreadnought├óÔé¼Ôäós escort fleet drifted in as well, several towing others. A pair of frigates were spiralling in like artificial Siamese twins ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ one of the frigates, it appeared, had lost control and buried itself in the other frigate├óÔé¼Ôäós side. A carrier with most of it├óÔé¼Ôäós fighter contingent gone, but with the ship itself mostly intact slipped into one of the larger docking ports and got swarmed by repair drones.

The crowd in the caf├â┬® had long since dropped whatever they had been carrying (not that it went anywhere in zero-gee). The entire fleet had been decimated. One frigate, slowly drifting at the back of the column seemed to give up the ghost and exploded. The Dreadnought managed to dock and those in the caf├â┬® immediately pushed off, heading for the dock arm with the Carrier and Dreadnought on. The pilots followed and Calliger sort of climbed along the floor to the exit with his feet floating in the air.

The two pilots pushed off down the tube to the docking arm to meet a sight they were totally unprepared for. Grim and grimy men and women in TFC uniforms, nearly all of them wounded in some way floated listlessly into the corridor (which was, fortunately, quite large) several were pulling severely wounded or dead comrades with them. A men with his lower left arm cut cleanly off had gotten some cable, tied it around his waist and then around the chest of his friend whose legs had been burnt off in a plasma fire and was pulling him along. They were all heading to the medical bay, which didn├óÔé¼Ôäót require a rather cramped tube to access.
├óÔé¼┼ôGood god├óÔé¼┬Ø said a man next to Jones. Jones spun around and caught the nametag: ├óÔé¼╦£Captain O├óÔé¼ÔäóDay, TCTV Alaskus├óÔé¼┬Ø (TCTV: Terran Colonial Transport Vessel) ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat the hell happened here?├óÔé¼┬Ø

An extremely tired looking woman whose shoulder pads marked her out as captain changed her course to them. She stopped herself by spinning back slightly, and panted in front of them for a moments, trying to catch her breath. She had shoulder-length brown hair which had been singed black on the left side. There was a deep cut on her cheek.

├óÔé¼┼ôHellion battle fleet. Came out of nowhere about...├óÔé¼┬Ø she mulled it over ├óÔé¼┼ô...about fifty-odd L-Cees├óÔé¼Ôäó in the direction of Lith.├óÔé¼┬Ø An ├óÔé¼╦£L-Cee├óÔé¼Ôäó was short for ├óÔé¼╦£Large-Celestial├óÔé¼Ôäó ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ which stood for the diameter of Jupiter. There being no Norths or Souths in space, space-goers usually navigated by planets, usually by computer, leapfrogging to their destination. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe were going to Lydan to help with the evacuation and they just came out of nowhere! No radar signatures, no heat. They just appeared, and opened fire. They halved our fleet in the first barrage ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ we didn├óÔé¼Ôäót have a chance to raise our shields. When we did, they swarmed us with kamikaze drones. There were just too many targets. Our fighters managed to destroy most of them but our pads were nearly all destroyed. It├óÔé¼Ôäós a good thing our Bridge is smack-bang in the middle of the ship├óÔé¼┬Ø ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ evidently, this woman was the captain of the Carrier ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ ├óÔé¼┼ôor we├óÔé¼Ôäód have suffered the same fate as the Retribution├óÔé¼┬Ø - Sanderson assumed she was referring to the Dreadnought and it├óÔé¼Ôäós crushed frontal section ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ ├óÔé¼┼ôWe pulled off and ran full pelt, full speed. Nearly used up our entire main engine fuel. Took us two days to decelerate.├óÔé¼┬Ø She shook her head ├óÔé¼┼ôThe rest of them caught up with us eventually├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAnd the Carrier?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIt├óÔé¼Ôäós just a big ball of scrap now. The managed to sneak in an EMP whilst we were running away. We managed to plug an alternative power source to get the engines and brakes working again but as for the rest of it...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAnd you?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôJulia Korkovski.├óÔé¼┬Ø She offered a hand. Sanderson shook it fist ├óÔé¼┼ôand I├óÔé¼Ôäóm almost certain to be discharged for running away...├óÔé¼┬Ø
She sounded almost wistful.
├óÔé¼┼ôHow many?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôToo many.├óÔé¼┬Ø She looked deeply saddened. Then she laughed heartlessly. ├óÔé¼┼ôLook at me! I├óÔé¼Ôäóm spilling my guts to a pair of men I don├óÔé¼Ôäót even know├óÔé¼┬Ø She pushed off the floor and joined the flow of the fleet crew members. The two pilots and O├óÔé¼ÔäóDay watched her float off in silence.

Adams was running. Very fast. He leaped over a small ravine, clearing it easily, his spiked boots giving him plenty of grip on the ice and snow. Taylor, however, was having some trouble. She was quite obviously not used to low temperatures and was slipping and sliding all over the place, falling over often. The security team was in pretty much the same state. Lady Donnel and the cooks, despite their fear, were quite at ease in the environment, outpacing even Adams with his bioengineering. They reached the town and Adams directed them all into a large eatery next to a small landing pad. He turned to Taylor and Lady Donnel.
├óÔé¼┼ôStay here.├óÔé¼┬Ø He ordered. ├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóll be back with a ship├óÔé¼┬Ø
He then ran out of the eatery. The people in it were staring at them. The eatery├óÔé¼Ôäós manager walked up to her with indignation
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat├óÔé¼Ôäós going on here?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNothing much. Got any beer?├óÔé¼┬Ø

Adams found what he was looking for and punched the kid off it. He mounted the snow-bike and, in a cloud of snow shot off to the Lymbassi Spaceport at full speed. He had a monorail to beat.

The monorail in question slid into it├óÔé¼Ôäós station in the Lymbassi Spaceport just as Adams had stolen the snow-bike. The NCLF troops poured out of the train. The station manager was standing there, watching them in shock. Ian unstrapped Lizzy and pulled over his shoulder. He hopped out of the train and made a bee-line for the station manager.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou can├óÔé¼Ôäót stay here!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhere├óÔé¼Ôäós your medical facilities?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou can├óÔé¼Ôäót stay here!├óÔé¼┬Ø The station manger repeated, his voice rising
├óÔé¼┼ôWhere├óÔé¼Ôäós your medical facilities?├óÔé¼┬Ø Ian returned, his voice doing the same
├óÔé¼┼ôYou don├óÔé¼Ôäót understand! You. Can├óÔé¼Ôäót. Stay. Here!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Ian looked at him angrily. The was short and round and gave an endearing air of incompetence.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhy?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The man was about to speak when another monorail train smashed into Elizabeth├óÔé¼Ôäós. The two trains buckled and fell off the rail, smashing into the layer of ice below.
├óÔé¼┼ôThat├óÔé¼Ôäós why!├óÔé¼┬Ø The station manager shouted. Ian pistol-whipped him on the head, knocking him out and then checked his watch. They├óÔé¼Ôäód just come in unannounced right before the 14:30 train. Oops.

Still supporting Elizabeth, Ian ran on onto the platforms, with his men in tow. It was bloody cold. The wind had picked up and a blizzard was moving in. They found a shuttlecraft. It was large enough. The two pilots were watching them in stunned silence. The crowds parted and surprise and fear. One of the pilots was standing outside the ship with a refuelling tube. The other was in the cockpit. Ian shot the one outside in each leg. The man screamed in pain and collapsed onto the floor. Laying Elizabeth carefully on the ground, he clambered up the flight ladder. The pilot in the cockpit was scrambling for her gun so he punched her in the face and threw her out onto the icy platform. The gun skittered over the edge. She withdrew and dragged her wounded partner away into the blizzard. He opened the rear hatch and spotted that it was full of cargo. His men couldn├óÔé¼Ôäót get in.

├óÔé¼┼ôClear the platform!├óÔé¼┬Ø He shouted to them ├óÔé¼┼ôI need to empty this thing!├óÔé¼┬Ø
His men ran back onto the main walkway. Ian climbed out and dragged Lizzy up into the ship, strapping her securely into the co-pilot├óÔé¼Ôäós seat. He closed the cockpit and flipped a switch. The NEO walls shot upwards and the platform rotated. With the ship now vertical and the rear hatch still open, the cargo (which hadn├óÔé¼Ôäót been secured) fell out into the launch pit. Then, instead of firing up the rotors, he lowered the NEO├óÔé¼Ôäós and the platform rotated back to normal. He opened up the cockpit again.
├óÔé¼┼ôGet in! Quick├óÔé¼┬Ø
They poured into the rear and pulled out seats from inside the walls, sitting down and strapping in.

Adams├óÔé¼Ôäó snow-bike skidded to a halt and he leaped up onto the Spaceport├óÔé¼Ôäós main walkway. He managed to get his arms and upper chest over the side, hitting it with a thud. He clambered up onto the walkway and ran to the monorail station. There were no trains; Montoya hadn├óÔé¼Ôäót arrived yet.
├óÔé¼┼ôHelp me!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Someone was shouting to him, a woman. He turned and saw a woman dragging a man with bloody holes in his legs. They were pilots.
├óÔé¼┼ôHelp!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Adams ran over. The bloody holes were from pistol shots, and the wounds had already frozen. The man didn├óÔé¼Ôäót stand much of a chance. The woman tried brush her hair out of her eyes but the wind just blew it back into place. Adams noticed that she had a newly broken nose.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat happened?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThey took our ship!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Adams looked up. There were two large cargo freighters. He got a brief glimpse of Elizabeth Montoya unconscious in the co-pilot seat of one before it├óÔé¼Ôäós NEO shields shot up.
├óÔé¼┼ôNO!├óÔé¼┬Ø

├óÔé¼┼ôActivating Primary Sequence!├óÔé¼┬Ø Ian called out. The engines roared to life, breaking their ice covering, at the expense of some of the outer plating, which didn├óÔé¼Ôäót agree with the sudden changes in the extreme temperatures. The freighter shot up into the sky. Looking down he saw the Investigator looking defeated. Hah! Eat THAT you bastard! He looked over to Elizabeth she was still unconscious, but seemed to be breathing fine. He looked back. His men were alright, if slightly unused to the take-off procedure.

Investigator Adams cursed as the freighter rocketed upwards. Then he remembered what he had come here for. The other cargo freighter was still docked. He turned to the woman who was crouched over her wounded partner.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou!├óÔé¼┬Ø
She looked up
├óÔé¼┼ôCome with me!├óÔé¼┬Ø

Anders, having found a bunch of suitcases, was stuffing them full of memory chips and hard drives. Finished with his work, having stripped all the computers clean, he snatched up all the papers and letters and put them in the suitcase too. He found Montoya├óÔé¼Ôäós electronic diary, and threw that in too. His work done, he pulled up the schematics of the mansion. The place had a garage, and the 3d model showed that it was still intact, and fully stocked. Brilliant.

Taylor sipped her drink and looked about herself. Her team had taken seats, filling up the restaurant. Several had ordered meals. The manager, judging from the look on his face, was unsure as to whether he should laugh or cry. The good bit was that his restaurant was fuller than it had ever been in years. Hell, it was completely full. The problem was that it was full of lots and lots of outsiders with guns. They didn├óÔé¼Ôäót seem threatening, so he had let them in. His other customers were still a bit shocked. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air. Why couldn├óÔé¼Ôäót they just LEAVE!?!

A snow car pulled up clumsily, stopping itself by colliding with another car (one of the people in the restaurant winced) and man got out, ran around to the boot, opened it and pulled out a pair of large, black suitcases. He ran up to the restaurant door and shouldered it open before looking around. Taylor waved her glass in greeting
├óÔé¼┼ôHello Stranger!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThought Adams would leave you here├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôTake a seat├óÔé¼┬Ø Taylor said, waving to the unoccupied seats at her table. Anders grinned and slipped into the seat opposite her, pulling the suitcases under the table.
├óÔé¼┼ôDrink?├óÔé¼┬Ø She offered.

├óÔé¼┼ôActivating Primary Sequence!├óÔé¼┬Ø The woman (├óÔé¼┼ôAmy├óÔé¼┬Ø) called, flipping a switch. The freighter├óÔé¼Ôäós engines roared and the ship shot upwards into the air. Instead of breaking through the atmosphere, however, the ship├óÔé¼Ôäós engine├óÔé¼Ôäós pivoted and ship turned downwards, flying across the planet├óÔé¼Ôäós surface.
├óÔé¼┼ôThere!├óÔé¼┬Ø Said Adams, pointing out the landing pad.

Ian├óÔé¼Ôäós freighter docked with the ship. It was their ship. Elizabeth had bought it and Ian had added to it. Now, it would be saving their lives. Ian was very glad that he├óÔé¼Ôäód installed a newer version of the medical station two weeks ago. He pushed off the floor, going straight for it. He laid Lizzy on a medical bed and pressed a button. The bed slid into a medical container. He left the room whilst the medical computers analysed what was wrong and set about fixing it. The ship was also freezing. They├óÔé¼╦£d powered it down to conserve energy (but not right down). He floated up to the bridge, shivering, and turned up the power. It got much warmer and the control panels lit up. Setting a course for the nearest NCLF planet, he took a seat (on a grey coloured bean bag) as a form of gravity asserted itself. The ship began cruising away from the planet.

They found Calliger pressed against one of the walls for fear of getting entangled in the stream of crewmembers heading for the Medical. Smart move. Jones made for the lift.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou├óÔé¼Ôäóre just leaving them?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNot a hell of a lot we can do├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAnd I need a drink├óÔé¼┬Ø O├óÔé¼ÔäóDay added.
They pushed off up the lift tube and into the caf├â┬®. The caf├â┬® was buzzing with noise as people talked and watched out the dome at the pride of the Terran Fleet Command laid ruin.
Jones, Sanderson and Calliger drifted in solemn silence to an empty table. O├óÔé¼ÔäóDay went off to buy drinks. The three slipped in and O├óÔé¼ÔäóDay floated back with some canisters.

├óÔé¼┼ôSo why├óÔé¼Ôäód you go into security?├óÔé¼┬Ø Anders asked
├óÔé¼┼ôBetter pay. Of course, contract work is on and off, and running a security team of this size and quality ain├óÔé¼Ôäót cheap, but the quality and expertise means we get hired quite a lot.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHow├óÔé¼Ôäód you end up here?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôRefuel. Our tanks were nearly empty, and used practically all of it getting here. Then we found out that all the fuel was frozen up and it cost a fortune to buy. As I had just bought these├óÔé¼┬Ø She patted her plasma rifle ├óÔé¼┼ôplus ammo and stuff like that for the team, I didn├óÔé¼Ôäót have enough with me.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSo you went job hunting to raise funds?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYeah├óÔé¼┬Ø She said simply. ├óÔé¼┼ôGod bless paranoia├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou believe in God?├óÔé¼┬Ø
She snorted. ├óÔé¼┼ôNo. But the expression├óÔé¼Ôäós still good├óÔé¼┬Ø
Anders nodded and took another sip. Then a thought struck him
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat├óÔé¼Ôäós wrong with the fuel being frozen?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWell you can├óÔé¼Ôäót pour frozen fuel you know...├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWell, fuel freezes in space anyway. Didn├óÔé¼Ôäót the Dock have the facilities to keep it warm?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThe Dock? What├óÔé¼Ôäós the Orbital Dock got to do with it?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Anders looked confused
├óÔé¼┼ôOur ship can do planetary landing and scoot around in space├óÔé¼┬Ø She explained. ├óÔé¼┼ôIt├óÔé¼Ôäós state of the art. Unfortunately this planet├óÔé¼Ôäós Dock isn├óÔé¼Ôäót ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ we couldn├óÔé¼Ôäót dock with it. So we had to get fuel from down here, and used the last dregs in landing├óÔé¼┬Ø
Anders looked impressed. A large cargo freighter landed on the pad outside.

Adams hopped out of the cockpit with Amy in tow. He ran up to the restaurant, barged through the door and walked up to Taylor, who must have thought she was in some kind of trouble because she shrank into her chair.
├óÔé¼┼ôWe├óÔé¼Ôäóre leaving├óÔé¼┬Ø He stated bluntly.
├óÔé¼┼ôIn that?├óÔé¼┬Ø She asked, nodded towards the freighter.


===============================================
PRODUCTION NOTES

None! Hah, you looked for nothing.

Taylor explained about her dropship, nicknamed the ├óÔé¼┼ôFalcra├óÔé¼┬Ø. Adams immediately decided that they├óÔé¼Ôäód be better off using that instead and gave the cargo freighter to Amy.
She slipped into the cockpit and checked the log to find out where it was supposed to go. Whoever had requisitioned it (and whomever were originally meant to fly it) was going to get very confused when she turned up...

The Falcra was big and black, easily visible in the blizzard. It was, funnily enough, shaped quite like a bird of prey in flight. On the underside of where the wings met the body were a pair of frontally-mounted plasma cannons. The ship had no visible cockpit, was huge for a planet-landing capable ship and even sported four escape pods. It had two engines; one fuel based for inter-planetary work and a plasma-based one for out-in-space work. The bridge was in the ├óÔé¼╦£head├óÔé¼Ôäó section, attached to the body by a slender neck. The ship├óÔé¼Ôäós nose ended with a sharp down-wards pointing edge. It looked deadly. And judging from the lack of scrapes and other such marks, new.
Taylor entered the ship and fired it up. The others strapped themselves in. The interior was a mass of seats, wiring, plating and gun lockers. It was damn cramped
├óÔé¼┼ôYou live in this thing?├óÔé¼┬Ø Anders asked into a mic.
├óÔé¼┼ôYup. You├óÔé¼Ôäóre in the drop-zone section. The living quarters and stuff is further up├óÔé¼┬Ø Taylor replied over the intercom.
Adams looked about himself. Something was wrong
├óÔé¼┼ôI thought you didn├óÔé¼Ôäót have any fuel?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWe didn├óÔé¼Ôäót have any fuel because we didn├óÔé¼Ôäót have the money. Once we got that contract, we got the money. First thing I did; refuel.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Adams accepted this and strapped himself in.
├óÔé¼┼ôHold on, we├óÔé¼Ôäóre not on a pad!├óÔé¼┬Ø Anders exclaimed
├óÔé¼┼ôFind me a pad that├óÔé¼Ôäóll take this thing and I├óÔé¼Ôäóll land you on it├óÔé¼┬Ø Taylor shot back. ├óÔé¼┼ôBesides. We have VTOLs├óÔé¼┬Ø

The fuel-powered engines mounted behind the wings turned downwards towards the ground. Another unfurled itself from under the nose. They ignited with a strong blue flame and got the Falcra vertical. Then the main engines roared to life and the ship shot up into space.

Elizabeth Montoya slid off her bed and took a few experimental steps. She was a bit woozy, but seemed to be okay. She rubbed her hand over her side, feeling the wound. She├óÔé¼Ôäód been scarred badly, and several bits were now metal. She pulled on a medical gown and thumbed the intercom.
├óÔé¼┼ôIan?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSpeaking├óÔé¼┬Ø
Shame the thing didn├óÔé¼Ôäót have video
├óÔé¼┼ôIt├óÔé¼Ôäós Elizabeth. I├óÔé¼Ôäóm up├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHow├óÔé¼Ôäódya feel?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôLike I├óÔé¼Ôäóve just come back from one wild and crazy party
One the other side of the intercom Ian chuckled.
├óÔé¼┼ôAntiseptics are such wonderful thi- oh shit!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWe├óÔé¼Ôäóve being followed. Shit, shit, shit├óÔé¼┬Ø

Both Montoya├óÔé¼Ôäós ship and the Falcra actually had the same engines, but the Falcra was much, much smaller (Not to mention having two rather than the ex-TFC frigate├óÔé¼Ôäós one), and so was going much, much faster. Taylor locked onto the other├óÔé¼Ôäós ships engines and opened up.

Plasma spewed forth, burning up large bits of Montoya├óÔé¼Ôäós ship and forcing Ian to turn the engines off before they exploded. He slammed his fist into the console. Being an ex-assault frigate, his ship├óÔé¼Ôäós weapons were all frontally mounted, designed for hit and run. And without his engines, he couldn├óÔé¼Ôäót turn around. The other ship had come in too fast.

The enemy ship stopped accelerating, making Taylor├óÔé¼Ôäós job easier. The Falcra flipped over and docked with Montoya├óÔé¼Ôäós ship, in a bizarre sort of mating ritual. As both ships were fully pressurised, Taylor forwent the usual airlock cycle. As expected, the other side had locked the airlock against them. Forgoing subtey as well they planted a HE mine on the airlock. The two security team members pushed off back into the corridor and out of the airlock. The door clamped shut.

On the other side of the airlock, a band of NCLF troops were waiting. They were expecting a laser cutter, and were planning to shoot through the door when they saw the sparks fly. Instead they got a large explosion and a face-full of ball bearings. The tiny sphere├óÔé¼Ôäós of copper sliced straight through them and globs of blood floated around as the corpses and weapons floated listlessly. An RC probe dropped down and scanned the area. Only then did Taylor├óÔé¼Ôäós security force pour into the ship.

Each member of Taylor├óÔé¼Ôäós security force had jetpacks, which gave them an extra added edge over the NCLF troopers. Taylor├óÔé¼Ôäós ├óÔé¼┼ôSecs├óÔé¼┬Ø as Anders had taken to calling them (though they were actually called the ├óÔé¼╦£Flaming Falcons├óÔé¼Ôäó after their ship) had experience in zero-gee combat, the NCLF were ground hogs who had trouble simply moving around the ship. The Jetpacks meant they didn├óÔé¼Ôäót have to ├óÔé¼╦£kick-off├óÔé¼Ôäó things to move around, which meant they could do fancy things like mid air dodging and melee combat. Taylor├óÔé¼Ôäós Secs made short work of the NCLF, pushing them back to the bridge. There, they reach a stalemate of sorts because the bridge had laser turrets. Adams, Anders and Taylor came onboard. And Taylor brought the Crawler.

Calliger, Jones, Sanderson and O├óÔé¼ÔäóDay were now quite drunk, if still a bit mellowed. O├óÔé¼ÔäóDay was chatting fairly happily about his ship, The Alaskus.

The Alaskus had been spacefaring for about 30 years, all under one captain ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ O├óÔé¼ÔäóDay. It had served in seven rescues and nine evacuations, including that of the planet Lune ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ which had been particularly brutal, with 70% of all evacuation ships being destroyed. The Alaskus had almost twice the engine power of ships of it├óÔé¼Ôäós class and also had a military grade tow cable which meant The Alaskus could also haul a large amount of cargo. The hull armour was also about three times thicker than it was when it came out the factory. All the crew had served at least five years on another ship, half of them ex-military.

├óÔé¼┼ôLune was a real bitch├óÔé¼┬Ø O├óÔé¼ÔäóDay recalled. ├óÔé¼┼ôThe planet was split between the NCLF and us lot before the Hellion turned up, so when the evacuation fleet turned up the NCLF shot at us too. The escorting TFC fleet was caught between them and the Hellion. We never stood much of a chance. We scooped up whomever we could and pegged it!├óÔé¼┬Ø He swirled the canister he was drinking from and watched a trail of brown liquid escape from the tube. Jones kicked him under the table

├óÔé¼┼ôDon├óÔé¼Ôäót waste it. That stuff costs a lot├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones had just bought a new round and had nearly died when told the bill. And that was just for three ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ Sanderson didn├óÔé¼Ôäót drink. O├óÔé¼ÔäóDay closed the canister.
├óÔé¼┼ôSo why are we here?├óÔé¼┬Ø Calliger asked again
├óÔé¼┼ôI told you. IIA. Ship. Pick up. Job├óÔé¼┬Ø said Sanderson, making appropriate hand gestures
├óÔé¼┼ôLearn to control your damn drink├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones muttered.
Calliger flapped his arms stupidly, in a gesture that obviously didn├óÔé¼Ôäót work properly in zero-gee.
├óÔé¼┼ôSo where did you two come from?├óÔé¼┬Ø O├óÔé¼ÔäóDay asked Jones and Sanderson.
├óÔé¼┼ôMe?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones began ├óÔé¼┼ôI├óÔé¼Ôäóm from Allua.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAllua? Didn├óÔé¼Ôäót that get invaded?├óÔé¼┬Ø

Jones nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe, as in me and my family, evacuated on a personal shuttle about five weeks before everyone else did. I was about... 18 or so then. My father taught me the basics of shuttlecraft piloting, and by the time we landed ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ on Luna no less ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ I├óÔé¼Ôäód got fairly competent. I took piloting as a profession and learned the rest doing that.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHow long have you been a pilot?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAbout 20-ish years. 17 years commercial, 1 in the evacuation fleet and 2 in the IIA├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThe Evacuation Fleet? On Luna?├óÔé¼┬Ø O├óÔé¼ÔäóDay asked with sudden interest
Jones nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôAye. As you said. It was a real bitch. Got me in the IIA too├óÔé¼┬Ø

The Crawler didn├óÔé¼Ôäót really crawl. It was a zero-gee tank for boarding operations that moved using compressed air jets. It had a pair of laser cannons on the side and a pair of grenade launchers (also adapted to zero-gee) on the back. Adams knew the Inquisition Shock Troops used them, but had never heard of one in the commercial market. So where the heck had they got ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£

Adams trail of thought was interrupted by the Crawler├óÔé¼Ôäós grenade launchers firing with a quiet ├óÔé¼╦£piff├óÔé¼Ôäó ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ ├óÔé¼╦£piff├óÔé¼Ôäó ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ ├óÔé¼╦£piff├óÔé¼Ôäó. The Crawler├óÔé¼Ôäós grenades had been modified for zero gee usage. The had compressed air jets on each ├óÔé¼╦£side├óÔé¼Ôäó for full movement. They were being controlled by a SwarmAI, which was in turn being controlled by the Crawler├óÔé¼Ôäós gunner.
Taylor, standing up against a wall, waved the three little bomblets on. The Crawler gunner gave her the thumbs up. ├óÔé¼┼ôFire in the hole├óÔé¼┬Ø She whispered into her mike.

Elizabeth Montoya was still groggy as hell, and her side still hurt. The remaining NCLF troopers had their guns trained on the door. Even Ian, who really should have been piloting the ship, engines or no engines, had grabbed a gun and aimed it. Elizabeth checked her pocket. Her pistol was still there, so she drew it. Then the door exploded.

Elizabeth was falling. There was only darkness. Then she hit something. She tried to open her eyes. The room was blurred. Grey and metal, with someone standing over her.
├óÔé¼┼ôIan?├óÔé¼┬Ø She asked with a slight smile
├óÔé¼┼ôNo.├óÔé¼┬Ø She knew that voice. She blinked fiercely.

Her vision cleared. Inspector Adams was standing over her. She felt a dull pain in her stomach and legs. Looking down she saw that Adams was actually standing on her, pinning her to the floor with one foot. His boots were spiked and had pierced the skin. Her legs had been blown off. She spotted one floating listlessly and saw who else was in the room.

Blood was flowing freely around the room. People in black suits with their weapons raised were looking at her, emotionless. That tanned offworlder was standing next to the Investigator├óÔé¼Ôäós assistant, that Lieutenant, with her sword drawn. She saw Ian, drifting listless with two large holes in his stomach and chest.
She turned her head back to face Adams.
├óÔé¼┼ôMiss Elizabeth Montoya.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Her wasn├óÔé¼Ôäót asking her a question
├óÔé¼┼ôNobody.├óÔé¼┬Ø
He raised a gun in one hand. It was an assault rifle, but its weight didn├óÔé¼Ôäót really matter in zero-gee.
├óÔé¼┼ôEscapes the Imperial Inquisition.├óÔé¼┬Ø

======================================
PRODUCTION NOTES

I know it's a bit short, but it's the end of the first chapter, so shut up.

Incidentally, I've just expanded the first paragraph of the original version into one whole chapter! I rule.

EDIT: Bloody hell this thing had a lot of typos

oh noes!

what's with the oh noes?

The ending of the last episode, thats whats whith the oh noes.

Chapter Two

Captain Lannings watched out the monitor at the front of his ship├óÔé¼Ôäós bridge. He was the captain of the Battleship Vengeance, and he was worried. He├óÔé¼Ôäód just dropped off an Inquisitorial Investigator from the IIA. Less than an hour after that, a ship shot out of orbit at high speed. He was about to pursue when another ship shot off the planet after the first one. The second ship had been black ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ pitch black in fact ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ and was incredibly high tech. The first ship had been your basic run-of-the-mill stay-in-orbit ship, heck it was a TFC cruiser, if an old one. The second was good. Very good. Light just seemed to flow over it. It was nigh-impossible to spot with the naked eye, except for the plasma trail after it. His radar too failed to even pick it up. The heat sensors picked up the plasma trail but that was it. The ship├óÔé¼Ôäós shell seemed to absorb any sound-lasers they fired at it (sound-lasers were lasers that where used to pick up sounds in the targeted ship, though they did work both ways). The two ships sped off at very high speeds, to the point that deceleration would take at least a few hours. The black ship had disabled the cruiser with incredible ease and boarded it. Judging from the sound data they├óÔé¼Ôäód got from the cruiser, the boarding hadn├óÔé¼Ôäót lasted very long.
He was moving in to investigate.

├óÔé¼┼ôSo what about you Sanderson?├óÔé¼┬Ø O├óÔé¼ÔäóDay asked, turning to face him.
├óÔé¼┼ôWell... it├óÔé¼Ôäós a bit of a long story├óÔé¼┬Ø Sanderson replied, dodging the question
├óÔé¼┼ôCome on! We├óÔé¼Ôäóve got plenty of time!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNo thanks├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOh fine, you unsociable get. Calligan, what about you?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIt├óÔé¼Ôäós Calliger├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôOh, sorry, Calliger├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI... I...├óÔé¼┬Ø
He fell forwards on the table.
├óÔé¼┼ôOh, hell├óÔé¼┬Ø Jones muttered. He drifted out of his seat, picked up Calliger and floated off, muttering about people who couldn├óÔé¼Ôäót hold their drink.

The bridge now had a lot more goblets of blood floating about. Adams lowered the rifle.
├óÔé¼┼ôAnders?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSir?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Anders hadn├óÔé¼Ôäót called him sir for ages
├óÔé¼┼ôCheck the consoles and see what you find├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes sir├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAnd drop the ├óÔé¼╦£sir├óÔé¼Ôäó ├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWill do├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôTaylor?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôInvestigator?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôGet your people back to your ship├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes Investigator├óÔé¼┬Ø
She left the bridge with her team filing out after her. Anders set to work on the bridge computers. Adams took one last look at the room and left to search the ship.

Anders had flicked around in the main computer for a fair few minutes before he noticed that one of the monitors had started beeping. He looked up and floated over to the monitor in question. It was the radar map. In one direction there was an incoming TFC battleship ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ marked enemy. In the direction was a fleet of various ships marked friendly. They didn├óÔé¼Ôäót look commercial and they certainly didn├óÔé¼Ôäót look friendly.

Adams was searching through the NCLF weapon lockers. About two thirds looked home made, a few were from the PDF and some were full military grade ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ those had probably come with the ship. Most worrying off all, however, were two very curvy and exotic pistols (Adams guessed they were pistols). They were identical, possibly in a pair. They were white and donut-shaped with a segment cut out where the hand went in. Adams felt it experimentally. There was a firing range to his right, so he took careful aim at the bullseye and pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
He pulled the trigger again
Nothing happened.
├óÔé¼┼ôHuh.├óÔé¼┬Ø
He put the pistol into his sack that he├óÔé¼Ôäód put all the NCLF weapons in, and picked up the other pistol. That didn├óÔé¼Ôäót work either, and so in the sack went that too. Then his ear stud chimed. He pressed the ├óÔé¼╦£accept call├óÔé¼Ôäó button
├óÔé¼┼ôInvestigator Adams speaking├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIt├óÔé¼Ôäós Anders. We have incoming├óÔé¼┬Ø

Jones floated along, dragging an unconscious Calliger with him. Three drinks and out? Three drinks? The canisters didn├óÔé¼Ôäót hold that much! He slid into the medical station, strapped Calliger down and opened a side cabinet. He rooted around a bit and found what he was looking for. He took a syringe, punched it into the bottle and extracted a tiny amount of the reddy liquid.

The stuff was basically a very powerful ├óÔé¼┼ôanti-alcohol├óÔé¼┬Ø. It found alcohol in the bloodstream or where-ever it was to be found, reacted with it and neutralised it. It even made your piss blue.

Jones rolled Calliger├óÔé¼Ôäós sleeve up a bit, found a vein, wiped it with an antiseptic and carefully inserted the needle. Calliger moved a bit. Jones depressed the syringe and injected the stuff into Calliger├óÔé¼Ôäós bloodstream. It would take a few minutes to get into effect, and a few more after that the clear the alcohol in his system out, depending on how long ago the guy had drank.

Lannings was now even more worried. An enemy fleet was moving in on the newly boarded vessel. A lone TFC battleship vs a full NCLF Fleet. This would be interesting.
├óÔé¼┼ôPrepare forward guns. Raise shields. Get the Shock Troops to their boarding pods.├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes sir├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAnd get our broadsides ready to fire├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAccelerate to Two and a half Gees├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAccelerating├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôPut this ship between them and the cruiser. Expose our broadside. Launch all fighters├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôCopy that├óÔé¼┬Ø

The Vengeance manoeuvred, scooting forwards and around the cruiser in a quarter circle. In the NCLF fleet, the captains noticed this and moved forwards. The Carrier ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ the Invincible ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ fired a warning shot from it├óÔé¼Ôäós forward cannon. It was deflected harmlessly off the Vengeance├óÔé¼Ôäós shield. The Vengeance fired a shot in return from it├óÔé¼Ôäós broadside. It slammed into the Invincible.

Lannings swore he could see a gun barrel float away. The enemy fleet surged forwards.
├óÔé¼┼ôThey don├óÔé¼Ôäót have shields. The bloody amateurs don├óÔé¼Ôäót have shields!├óÔé¼┬Ø

The NCLF consisted of a trio of battleships, a carrier, , not including a full flotilla of fighters and bombers and the like.
The Vengeance had about 100 Inquisitorial Shock Troops, a frontal guided missile launcher, two turreted lasers atop the bridge, and on each broadside three heavy laser cannons. It also had full shielding and fighter docks with ten fighters.

Hanging underside Montoya├óÔé¼Ôäós cruiser was the Falcra, still attached. It also had a rotary torpedo launcher that unfolded from the underside in accompaniment to the plasma cannons on the wings, along with point-defence weapons that, like the torpedo launcher, where hidden under panels. Adams hadn├óÔé¼Ôäót known they were there until Taylor mentioned them. The Falcra could also make boarding actions, in addition to being very fast and possessing an Inertia Dampener.

The Invincible had two turreted guided missile launchers, several plasma turrets and no broadsides. It had full docks for fighters and bombers, and had plenty of the ships themselves. It├óÔé¼Ôäós captain was an experienced smuggler, but the rest of the crew were a mish-mash of people. The pilot/nav, for example, had been flying Freighters about a week ago.

The NCLF battleships ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ the Avenger, King Lious and the Wincostin were of the same size (-ish). The Avenger had three plasma batteries on it├óÔé¼Ôäós broadside and three turreted Anti-Fighter laser mounted over the ship. The King Lious had three guided missile launchers and a tri-firing torpedo launcher. The Wincostin had two turreted plasma cannons and a forward mounted laser battery.

The Escort frigates had two turreted Anti-Fighter Lasers and a forward mounted Anti-Ship cannon each. The Attack Frigates had forward mounted Laser cannons and were very fast. The NCLF ships fired in unison

The barrage flew towards Vengeance. Shielded or not, the Vengeance wouldn├óÔé¼Ôäót stand against that. It moved out of the way. Whilst the guided missiles still shot towards their original target, the rest of the barrage was now heading for the late Elizabeth Montoya├óÔé¼Ôäós cruiser.

Adams and Anders had noticed this. The two shot down through the airlock and into the Falcra. Taylor couldn├óÔé¼Ôäót detach quick enough. As soon as the clamps detached, the Falcra scooted out from under the cruiser, which exploded violently as the barrage of fire ruptured it├óÔé¼Ôäós fusion reactor.

The Falcra swept aside, spinning, hoping to look like a large bit of debris, but also knocked about a bit by the shockwave. Taylor managed to re-orientate it and the Falcra shot forward towards the NCLF fleet.

Having moved out of the way of the NCLF barrage, the Vengeance fired one of it├óÔé¼Ôäós own, spread across three targets, including the Invincible. Two ships got caught in it, with one breaking in half. The others got clear in time. They swooped around forming a 3d pincer move. The Vengeance responded by reversing. Into the cruiser wreckage.

The ship rocked and Lannings nearly bashed his head in on the ceiling
├óÔé¼┼ôShit!├óÔé¼┬Ø Lannings didn├óÔé¼Ôäót often swear ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat the hell did we hit?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôCruiser wreckage├óÔé¼┬Ø Said the main pilot/nav, who sounded rather shocked. His face was pale. Lannings practically threw him out of his chair.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou!├óÔé¼┬Ø Lannings called to his XO ├óÔé¼┼ôCan you pilot this ship?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThe ability to pilot it is irrelevant. We├óÔé¼Ôäóve lost our engines├óÔé¼┬Ø
Lannings looked like he could kill the pilot
├óÔé¼┼ôFull power to shields. Prep escape pods!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôRoger that!├óÔé¼┬Ø

The Falcra shot forth around the back of the NCLF fleet, relatively undetected.
Relatively
An NCLF escort frigate spotted it├óÔé¼Ôäós plasma trail and turned around to investigate. In response, Taylor ripped up the cruiser├óÔé¼Ôäós frontal section with plasma. The exploded messily.

Now coming alongside the NCLF fleet, the Falcra prepared an attack run. Half the NCLF ships fired at it in response. The Falcra weaved and dodged, lasers and plasma flying everywhere. A laser sheared the tip of one of the wings off. The Falcra span around, letting fly with everything: plasma and torpedoes flying everywhere. Two Escort Frigates died violently and the King Louis got clipped pretty good, engine fuel spilling freely into space.

One of the Vengeance├óÔé¼Ôäós fighter craft spotted this, fired at ignited the fuel. The King Louis├óÔé¼Ôäós rear exploded. The Falcra had just blown a large hole in the NCLF fleet. It nipped through the gap and did a backflip. Taylor had noticed that the Avenger had no forwards mounted weapons. The Falcra was taking full advantage of this by turning up right in front of it (albeit the Falcra was upside down).

The Captain of the Avenger shrank into his chair as, in a cloud of smoke, the Falcra pumped torpedoes into his bridge. The front half of the Avenger exploded. Then a laser caught the Falcra across it├óÔé¼Ôäós underside.

Taylor shrank into her chair too. She├óÔé¼Ôäód just lost the inertia suppresser. There would be no more fancy flying from them. Ploughing straight forwards to escape the enemy fire, Taylor tried to ignore the new tugging sensation she was feeling. The Falcra eased it├óÔé¼Ôäós way into a turn to try and divert the NCLF fire away from the Vengeance.

The Vengeance was in a bad way. With no engines it could do no dodging. Also:
├óÔé¼┼ôShields down to 30% Captain├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHow many fighters are in still flying?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôTwo sir├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôRevert power from the docks to the shields├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôRoger that sir. Shields at 33%├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSir, engineering reports critical damage to the main thrusters├óÔé¼┬Ø ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ Lannings sighed, and threw the pilot/nav another dirty look ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ ├óÔé¼┼ôbut the manoeuvring jets are now operational├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSo we can turn around now?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes sir├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôTurn 90 degrees. Show them our broadside├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôRoger that├óÔé¼┬Ø

The Vengeance turned. Bits of Montoya├óÔé¼Ôäós cruiser scraped against the side but did no real damage. Exposing the broadside, The Vengeance fired and took out the Wincostin, gouging large holes in it├óÔé¼Ôäós side with the heavy lasers. The reactor breached and up went the Wincostin.

The Vengeance├óÔé¼Ôäós shields were down to 21%, had lost one of it├óÔé¼Ôäós laser cannons on it├óÔé¼Ôäós unexposed broadside and one of the laser turrets to the NCLF fighters. It had also lost it├óÔé¼Ôäós main engines, but had it├óÔé¼Ôäós manoeuvring jets back thanks to some savvy technicians and a lot of rewiring. All of it├óÔé¼Ôäós fighters were now destroyed.
The Falcra was low on torpedoes and had lost it├óÔé¼Ôäós main advantage ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ it├óÔé¼Ôäós inertia suppresser. It├óÔé¼Ôäós ├óÔé¼╦£skin├óÔé¼Ôäó had been ruptured in a few places, making it visible to Heat Sensors and Radar.

In return for this beating, the NCLF had lost all of it├óÔé¼Ôäós battleships, about half of it├óÔé¼Ôäós fighters and bombers, three Escort frigates and two attack frigates. It still had a relatively untouched carrier, the Invincible, six escort frigates and twelve attack frigates

Lannings sighed. He never thought he├óÔé¼Ôäód see the Vengeance die. His crew needed time to escape. He left the bridge, grabbing a mike for the PA system.
├óÔé¼┼ôAll crew to the escape pods. Do not launch without my command. I repeat: DO NOT launch without my command. Will Sergeant Evans and the 401st Storm Troopers report at the boarding please.├óÔé¼┬Ø
He looked out the bridge and saw the Falcra drift listlessly, missing an entire wing.

Taylor├óÔé¼Ôäós hands were glued to the control sticks. Her ship was now floating helplessly. Her ship. She├óÔé¼Ôäód seen it through thousands of missions. She├óÔé¼Ôäód built it up over three decades, with the Falcra starting off as a cargo hauler. Her team had grown up in it. She didn├óÔé¼Ôäót want to let it go. She didn├óÔé¼Ôäót want it to end like this. It was her ship! She suddenly noticed two things, practically at the same time, and couldn├óÔé¼Ôäót help but grin.

The Invincible plodded towards the Vengeance with the air of an ogre who knows he could easily crush the skull of the hapless man before him, but intends to take it├óÔé¼Ôäós time about doing so.

Too late did it notice the Falcra drifting right behind it├óÔé¼Ôäós main engine port.

Too late did it see the torpedo shoot forth and smash its engine into billions of tiny pieces.

Too late did it notice the two TFC cruisers approaching from above.

=================================
PRODUCTION NOTES

Ship combat! In space! Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang-bang!

I have to say this is quite an awesome read. keep it up as i need something to read on my breaks at work :)

I have to agree with J5. This is a great read. Give's me something to read while I take breaks from my writing

Zoombie wrote:Give's me something to read while I take breaks from my writing :wink:

Funnily enough, I do the exact same thing with Darkside: Extermination and Waste