Chapter Two: Pirate's Parley
"Greetings..."
A blurry image of a man flashed onto the screen. The man was seated, looking into the camera from what seemed to be a control room of sorts.
"If you can hear me, or see me, then you're receiving this broadcast over Omnet Public Channel B304, the very same channel used by terrorists months earlier. I however, am no terrorist."
The picture on the screen sharpened a bit, showing a human approximately 40 years old.
"This message is for Rach'n Batur, an old friend of mine whose wrath I've recently incurred. Incidentally, the terrorist group I mentioned just now is lead by Batur, calling themselves the United Anarchist Collective, a description I have trouble identifying with at the moment. Needless to say, there are others who would like to see him dead, a goal that I find very noble considering what I know. Surely, the crimes he's committed dictate not only a need to stop the UAC's activity, but also to wipe them from the galactic disk."
The figure readjusted himself in the chair.
"Why would I send a message meant for Batur through a public channel? Well, it's a matter of intimidation, a tactic Batur and his ilk know only too well. Only now, ironically, his tactics are being used against him. If you're listening, Batur, as I'm sure you will sooner or later, be known that I am proposing your end."
Again, the figure shifted in his seat, adjusting the camera a bit from afar.
"I am Commander Dideran, former officer in the UAC's legion. I have witnessed first hand, the inhumane activities of Batur and his followers. After being in his service for too long, my men and I decided to mutiny, and threw down his shackles of hypocritical oppression. Yet now we are hunted by Batur, a madman on a false quest to ‘liberate’ the peoples. He lives for injustice and evil, bringing to his victims not freedom, but death.
"Those he's tortured were mutilated beyond recognition. His prisoners are sold to slave traders throughout the Sector, and those unfortunate enough to be used as bait for his enemies never again see the light of day. I have witnessed the deaths of innocent men, executed alongside their wives and children. Uncaring for the ecosystems of the planets he engages, he has destroyed more than people's lives, but their children's futures.
"I stand here today to offer you a chance to bring retribution upon Batur and the UAC. As one who knows his tactics and hiding places, I offer to lead the fleets of gathered Empires to the locations of Batur's bases. I ask nothing in exchange except the freedom of my men and I, and the unmerciful deaths of Batur and his followers.
"In days, Batur will have found us, and unless you respond to me soon, my men and I will be unable to hold off Batur's attack, and die like too many have before us. I await your words."
"Damnit!" shouted Batur, throwing his fist into the wall beside him. His advisors stepped back, flinching at the sudden outrage their leader had shown. It wasn't very often that Batur lost his composure, but when he did, it meant that ill times were ahead.
A grinning image stood frozen on the monitor in front of the assembled UAC officers, a copy of the aired transmission only hours ago.
"Insolent bastard!" Batur spun himself around, his hand undoubtedly in pain from the collision with the wall. He walked away from his advisors, staring at the wall. No one was sure how to respond.
"Shall we dispatch a strike force?"
Batur waved the question away, turning to address his advisors.
"Dideran has access to all of our transmission frequencies. Any team sent in to stop him will be overheard the second they enter scanner range of Forest Base. The fool knows he has the upper hand, and until we find a way to break it, he'll take shots at us until we can do nothing but walk in circles."
Silence swept across the room, stares and questioning faces drawn in Batur's direction.
"I want complete plans to Forst Base in one hour. Give me status checks on all of Dideran's forces, and profile the most loyal men from every position beneath him. Contact Yegar and have him come here, in person, and send a full alert to every major ship, installation, and contact in the Sector. I want to know how far Dideran's influence reaches, and who we have to kill to stop it from spreading. Am I understood?"
There was a brief pause as the advisors looked at one another, unsure if any of this would be possible.
"Forest Base was produced by the Tru-Lan, with heavy modification done in a dozen q-zones. Getting adequate plans to strategize any sort of - "
"One hour, Commander. That is all." Batur turned around and left the meeting room, leaving his uncertain advisors behind.
Once inside his quarters, Batur tried to calm himself down. Beathing in deeply, he knew that exploding in front of his advisors was not a good thing. What irked him most, though, was that he had shown a sign of weakness, that Commander Dideran had already gotten him where it hurt the most. Disregarding the legion of forces that would no doubt make their way to protect Dideran in light of the mutiny, Batur was losing on his own front. Dideran's lack of loyalty, however sudden, meant that the rest of Batur's forces could fall to a like fate. Even if it wasn't probable at the moment, it was certainly not something that Batur could contemplate with a clear mind.
Sitting down at a console built into an ordinary desk, Batur wondered what he could do while his men followed his orders. He hated waiting, wishing that there was something active he could do to help his situation any. Taking off his cloak and throwing it on the nearby bed, he scrolled down recent log entries and reports from the crew. Many of the passages were incomplete, something that only now started to annoy him.
Over the past several days, Rach'n Batur was preoccupied with other thoughts. After a notable leave of absense to Darknode Citadel, a trip that he probably shouldn't have made in the first place, Batur met with someone who had caught his eye. Some time earlier, he met with the daughter of the Tieskara Chieftain, a beautiful young woman whose innocence and carefree nature were too appealing to him. It had been a long time since Batur had bothered courting a woman, if not because he couldn't, because he knew that his life left no room for a real relationship. When he met her at Darknode, the night they shared together was magical, and in retrospect, it was an experience that opened Batur's eyes.
Unfortunately, Batur's seduction of Tiara dimmed his contentment for his previous way of life, and though he was certainly still dedicated to it, he had a tough time concentrating on his work. He knew that his final decision would leave no room for Tiara, but this thought hurt him more than anything. If only he had never come across the philosophies of the Anarch Movement...
Standing up, Rach'n Batur made sure to shut down the computer console before he threw himself on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying to clear his mind. After a few moments of silence, Batur closed his eyes and fell asleep.
"Sejemussis?"
A long, white tunnel lead to the source of a brilliant light, almost blinding in its magnificence. The silhouette of a figure stood off in the distance, the bright light throwing itself around his body, leaving only a stick figure visible.
Rach'n Batur squinted his eyes, throwing his right hand up to shield his eyes from the brilliant light. Somehow he was sure that the being in the distance was the great Sejemussis himself, but the logic of this knowledge brought forth an inch of doubt. When there was no response to his question, he stumbled forward, feeling dizzy in the faceless tunnel.
"Where am I?"
The stupidity of the question caused Batur to stop in his tracks, as he pondered what was going on. It was a dream, obviously, a dream that Batur found ridiculous and pathetic. When growing up in the Kalikari Empire, he was taught to identify such self-imposed visions, and control them himself. He was certain that this dream was not something he purposely wished to inflict upon himself. When he tried to break free from the spell, however, he did not awaken. Instead, he just stood there, in the tunnel, with the thin figure in the distance staring at him.
Now, Batur's annoyance had returned, and he closed his eyes and tapped into his essence, trying to dig beneath the cause of the dream to shut it off and wake himself. When again, nothing happened, Batur opened his eyes. Confronting this vile vision was all he could do.
Walking rather quickly towards the silent being before him, Batur tried to initialize his magic. He knew that such powers were even more potent in a dream-state than they were in the mundane world, and assuming he couldn't use them to wake himself, he hoped to at least assert some control over the dream. Once again, however, he found that he could muster none of his powers in the state he was in.
Once Batur came close enough to the figure, he realized his suspicions were true. The figure was Sejemussis, founder of the Anarch Movement. He had met this Elder about a year ago, before the Empire he had grown up in became a twisted mutation of the reality he once believed existed. Sejemussis was a powerful Elder, imprisoned on the planet Batiw for his crimes against the Kalikari Empire. When Sejemussis summoned the new heir to the Anarch throne, unmasking one of the many mysteries of the Empire, Batur was more than happy to help the Elder. His breakout from Batiw, an event that few knew really happened, kept the Kalikari on guard. Even their officials knew little of Batiw or its residents, part of the Kalikari Empire’s mask. Sejemussis, wanting revenge for his imprisonment, and wishing to resurrect the Anarch Movement he believed to be dead, aided Batur in what was supposed to be their greatest victory. After a failed attack on Och'yut, however, when the first of two quantum storms flooded the Empire, Sejemussis disappeared alongside the Kalikari Empire.
Now, Sejemussis again stood before Batur, without projecting any thoughts or saying a single word. Batur eyed the figure up and down, remembering the guise Sejemussis took when aboard the Movement those may months ago. He looked the same, still wearing his traditional cloak, his eyes still burdened with the pains of imprisonment.
"You're here without my approval, Sejemussis. A simple knock would have sufficed."
The Elder looked through Batur, asserting his magnificent presence.
Batur fell quiet for a moment, then continued. "I don't have time for this, Sejemussis. Why must you Elders constantly avoid normal, literal communication?"
Sejemussis grinned.
"I see." Batur shook his head and sighed.
"You, Rach'n Batur of the self-proclaimed Anarchist Collective, are a fool."
Batur looked the Elder in the eye. "Pardon me?"
"You, leader of those who think their destiny is shattered by a fragmenting cause, are a fool."
"Sejemussis, either release me from your grip, or talk to me in a normal manner. Stop using your incessant blabbering and condescend for once, shall you?"
"So be it, fool."
Sejemussis unleashed his thoughts upon Batur, thousands of graphic images, sounds, thoughts, emotions, and feelings piercing through the Anarch leader's mind. It was a normal practice for those in the Dominion, shedding thoughts as a form of telepathic communication. With age, however, comes power, and with power, comes pain.
Batur yelled, falling to his knees and collapsing thereafter. The thoughts that Sejemussis projected were far more detailed than anything Batur ever experienced, and this abundance of information was simply too much for Batur to take in all at once. When the thoughts stopped, Sejemussis smiled, leaving a pain-stricken Batur on the ground in front of him. Mustering his energy, Batur looked up at the Elder, trying his hardest not to give into the pain. "Point made, Elder."
With a wave of the hand, Sejemussis scooped Batur up into the air, floating upwards himself. The ground below the two vanished entirely, and before Batur could question Sejemussis' motives, the Elder began to speak.
"So you see, Rachtungferhanden of House Batur, last of a once-noble House, the Elder Ways are beyond your scope of realization. So is the galaxy before you, and the history you seek to make right. Yet you are a fool, say I, and this is your flaw, for in the days ahead, you will either follow my path to its destination, or die without a future."
Batur had to squint his eyes in order to see Sejemussis through the blinding light, seemingly originating from all directions. His head still hurt from the psychic overflow, and it took a moment for his confusion to peak.
"For someone who claims I am to follow his greater technological Movement, you show your ideals quite well as a magic-bringer."
"And that ignorance is exactly why you are a fool."
"How am I a fool for following the technologcial way point? Do I not embark on the same quest you yourself did hundreds of years ago?"
Sejemussis shook his head, noting his disapproval. "You cannot fight magic with technology."
"I'm not fighting a magical opponent, Sejemussis. I'm fighting a man."
"And you believe that mankind is above the mystic spectrum?"
"Sentience is beyond the limitations of magic or technology."
"And neither of these limited arts can be ruled by man?"
"Only conceived."
"Then you are a fool."
"How am I a fool when you are the one who has forsaken your own cause?"
"I am Elder, and I am learned. If you live beyond the revolution that you have created, then, and only then, will you realize what a storm you have wrought in the galaxy, and what truths you have overlooked for so long."
"My storm is the same as yours."
Sejemussis shook his head. "Mine was one of otherworldly growth in a mystified society. Yours has become external, disfigured with a mundane philosophy. I fought for theory, you fight for sentience."
"And is that no less honorable?"
Sejemussis paused, looking Batur in the eye. "It is a cause which you must decide the worth."
Batur, too, paused. "Why then, are you here?"
"I am here," said the Elder, "because my goal is not complete. Though our causes are now separate, they once again merge."
"And how is that? I have no intent on returning to the Empire of my birth, or its bastard father."
"The Kalikari power is no longer fruitful solely from within. For too long have the Elders I oppose controlled vast outlands that mundane minds have overseen. Yet again, the Kalikari issue another blow, spreading their tendrils across the galactic disk. Their threat is not only from within, but from without."
Batur shook his head, not wanting to get involved in another war against the Kalikari. He had too much else to think of, too much else to do.
"Your supposed Order has been threatened by the Kalikari, not by one of your own."
"Impossible," thought Batur. He knew, however, that it could be true. He wouldn't put such an act beyond the capability of the Kalikari, be that those of the Empire he loved, or the foul Dominion that it became.
"You know that such is true. And now, you will choose the path of vengeance, or the path of death."
Batur looked at the Elder, the brilliant light working around the figure, devouring it from all directions. Opening his mouth to speak, Batur was suddenly hit with another surge of thoughts, a psi-bomb causing him to clutch his head with both hands. He yelled ecstatically, closing his eyes and trying his hardest to call forth his own magic.
An instant later, Batur awoke.
"I take it your nap went well?" asked Commander J’dan, the Movement’s head directorate. There was a sly grin on his face. He met with Batur in one of the Movement's many long hallways, now walking beside him in the direction of the bridge.
"How do you mean?" replied Batur, fastening his cloak and petting his uniform's wrinkles away. He had just woken up from a rather vivid, yet disturbing dream, and the fog of sleep was still clouding his vision.
"We paged you twice from the bridge, but there was no answer. Since your room's computer was off, we assumed you were asleep."
Batur nodded, uneasily. "What was so important?"
The officer paused, fiddling around with a small, personal computer. "We've found most of the plans for Forest Base, though have yet to receive any information on its ruinic and non-spatial drive systems. It may be possible to send in a small squad of soldiers and take out the Base's heart, though we'll need more information on its generators. Captain Yegar thinks that -"
"Yegar?"
"Yes sir. He came aboard about an hour ago."
"An hour ago? How long have I been asleep?"
"About three hours, sir."
"Shit." Batur shook his head. "Next time knock on my door. I take it you completed your task in an hour anyway?"
"Uh, yes sir, of course."
Batur flashed a grin. "Which room's he in?"
"Meeting room five, third level."
Batur nodded, returning to the task of straightening out his uniform. "Set a course to Outpost Infinity, and have the Legion rendezvous there in four days."
"Sir?"
"You're right, that’s unreasonable. Make it three days, and make sure the whole Legion’s there."
Before J’dan could answer, Batur veered to the right, taking another hallway.
The descent to level three was rather quiet, as it always was. The Movement was a capital ship with a well-disciplined crew, and an assortment of UAC officers and soldiers. There were entertainment areas of course, where stressed-out individuals could go and relax when not on duty. For the most part, however, the Movement was dreadfully quiet, with chatter and other mundane activities kept apart from the rest of ship. That was how Batur wanted it, and that's how it worked. In fact, there were only two occasions in which the atmosphere of the ship changed. One was after a great victory, which usually wasn't large enough to warrant a near-shutdown of the ship's defenses. Usually, this happened when the Movement was in space-dock, and that itself was a rare sight to behold. The second instance was not quite as organized, an event that always required some sort of clean-up afterwards. Batur frowned as he approached the stage; Yegar was aboard.
Loud voices and cheering could already be heard before Batur got to the meeting room. When he opened the door, he was greeted by undisciplined cheering and laughter, as three daggers flew by his head.
"Captain Batur! A pleasure it be, most certainly!" Captain Yegar flipped another dagger in his hand, throwing it at a figure that was, until recently, huddled against the door Batur had just opened. The dagger landed right in front of the figure.
"Ya get more ‘an three feet from that there dagger, and I cut ya dead, Chimbo." The voice of Yegar was inhumanely deep and rusty, no doubt a far-semblance of what it was long ago. The tales Batur had heard, and many that he witnessed, were astonishing indeed. The ancient pirate, whose body was altered beyond normal recognition by both technology and magic, was the most feared sight most merchants would ever dare come across, if they had such a choice.
Batur stood silent, shaking his head as though to lecture a child.
Yegar grinned in Batur’s direction. "Sit down, ya scurve! Me men and I brought the finest Grog from… Where ya say this be from, Bones?"
Another pirate, no less hyper than Yegar himself, was busy sharpening another dagger, testing the tool by running it through his lips. "New Asgard, right Chimbo?"
"He be talkin’ to ya, Chimbo!" shouted Yegar, laughing hysterically at the cowering figure beside the dagger. The huddled man, dressed up in what looked to Batur like women’s clothing, gave a quick nod, dried tears evident on his dirtied face.
"The Asgard Grog be the finest Chimbo ever bled, eh, Bones?"
The pirate nodded, running the dagger through the fingers on his right hand, doing some sort of fancy, one-handed knife show. No doubt the pirate learned the trick from too much boredom on a pirate vessel, thought Batur.
"Now sit ye down and take a blow," said Yegar, motioning for Batur to come in and close the door. He uncorked a small vial of some darkish liquid, and again looked over at Chimbo, the huddled, mis-dressed victim.
"Bring me Grog, Chimbo-Wench!"
The room of pirates lit up in laughter, as Yegar motioned for Chimbo to get out of the room. With a questioning look, Chimbo quickly jumped up and ran from the room, giving Batur a helpless look on his way out.
Again, Batur shook his head, approaching the large table where Yegar and his pirate companions were sitting.
"I don’t approve of you introducing a non-affiliate to the Movement, much less your seemingly inappropriate care for him."
Yegar laughed, his pirate cronies grinning. "Of course ya don’t, Captain Batur. That’s ‘cause ya be a stiff lubber. What you be needin’ is a good wench to quell yer thirst."
Batur almost smiled, but refused to give into Yegar’s antics.
Yegar suddenly shut up, opened his mouth, and gave Batur a look that the UAC leader had never before seen. Yegar raised a finger and pointed it in Batur’s direction. The room of pirates became quiet, and everyone kept glancing back and forth between each other and Yegar, wondering what was wrong with their fearless leader. Yegar looked as though he were seeing Kendis-Dai himself, shaking his extended finger and propping one eye wider open than the other, his gaping jaw suggesting much awe. There was a long pause in the room, Batur staring at the odd pirate captain monotonously, wondering what his weird acquaintance was doing.
"Ya’ve got wench-fever, Captain!" Yegar shouted loudly, the room suddenly becoming a riotous infestation of laughter and shouting. Resuming his former position, Yegar grinned widely, sitting back in his chair. With the shouting and talk going on around him, he looked at Batur with a wide grin. "Who be this wench?"
Batur was by now confused, wondering how the pirate captain was as successful as he was, with such an immature, raucous attitude. He shrugged, giving Yegar a questioning look.
"Don’t be lyin’ to ol’ Captain Yegar. I be seein’ it in yer eyes. You be havin’ wench-fever worse than ol’ Bones."
Bones suddenly shut up, looking at his captain with disgust. Yegar turned his head to face Bones, both giving one another a dreadfully serious look. To the normal spectator, it would have seemed that the two were about to get up and duke it out. Instead, after a few seconds of narrowing each other’s eyes and giving one another the stare of death, they both exploded in laughter, leaving Batur, once again as the only occupant in the room not immersed in laughter.
Once the laughter died down, Captain Yegar looked about the room, knowing full well that Batur wanted to eagerly get the meeting on. Before Batur could say anything, however, Yegar slammed a metal fist onto the table, leaving behind an indentation.
"Where be Chimbo, lads?"
Yegar’s companions shrugged, one of them getting up and running to the door. He pulled Yegar’s dagger from the ground and sheathed it, unzipping his fly and addressing the audience. "It be time to find me Chimbo-Wench, and discipline the whore!" With a bow, the pirate ran out the door, Yegar and the other pirates cheering him on.
Batur looked at Yegar quite seriously, clearing his throat to get the pirate’s attention.
"Chimbo be a merchant-flounderin’ land lubber. Me crew and I found ‘is ship leavin’ D’kai space, an’ boarded ‘is ship to find a whole storehouse o’ goods. I felt bad ‘cause Bones had ‘is way wit’ ‘is wife, so we kept ‘im alive for some fun. Don’t ya be worryin’ ‘bout ‘im, Captain Batur. He be in good hands wit’ Fleet Dread."
Bones held up a hand in victory, shouting something in the Ignir tongue, followed by laughter from the other pirates.
"Our alliance grows heavy with these sort of events, Yegar. As you know, UAC law permits you to continue your traditional practices, but you will not gain UAC support for these actions."
Yegar looked at Batur, narrowing his eyes and smirking, not able to keep a straight face. "So who be your wench, laddy?"
Batur sighed, shaking his head.
"No need to be hidin’ it from the Captain. Yegar has had whores. In fact, Yegar has had many whores!"
Once again, the room filled with laughter.
"If we can continue?" Batur said, obviously annoyed by the meeting’s longevity.
"Certainly," replied Yegar, mimicking a nobleman with a wave of his hand.
"I’ve called you’re here because of a mutiny on Forest Base, our mobile battle station assigned to the outskirts of the Oblivion area. It seems that Commander Dideran, a once-loyal member of the UAC, has decided to condemn our practices and garner support from other Empires. This is an alarming situation, one that needs to be rectified immediately."
"Then we kill the scurve!" yelled one of the pirates, immediately shushed by his comrades.
"Any assault on Forest Base will be returned with considerable firepower. Additionally, Dideran is awaiting aid from Empires who have already responded to his public request. We won’t be sure how serious these replies are until at least a week, giving Dideran adequate time to hide and contact his backers."
"So what ya be wanted for us to be doin’?" asked Yegar, opening and closing his metallic hand, eager to get to the point.
"I want you to use Fleet Dread as a buffer between Dideran and his destination, preventing him from moving Forest Base out of his current zone. If we can push him into an unaligned Empire, and attack him there, we’ll be able to accomplish our job and get the hell out of there before anyone comes to Dideran’s aid. Since a direct assault in these current conditions won’t suffice, we’ll force him into a zone that Forest Base can’t deal with adequately."
"Ya be wantin’ us to call in the whole Fleet? Surely ya be mad, Captain Batur." The pirate who spoke up was slapped in the head by Yegar, who withheld a grin.
Batur shook his head. "I want at least three Dread contingents approaching from one side, with effective backing from our own, internal capital ships. We need to follow through with this within a week, before Dideran can receive the aid he wants, and before he has time to realize our plan. The exact mission specs are being uploaded to the Solemnity as we speak."
Yegar nodded. "Me men’ll be wantin’ some action. And goods to be fillin’ their pockets."
"Of course. Forest Base will be returned to our command immediately after the siege. Whatever’s left floating in space is yours. Every living soldier under Dideran’s command will be forfeited to your possession, and any connections coming to aid Dideran will likewise be yours after they’ve been neutralized. Finally, you’ll receive normal compensation for your aid and can receive repairs at a later-designated outpost."
The pirate captain’s eyes lit up. "Grog!"
The door to the room opened, where a bloodied Chimbo limped in, carrying a large keg of grog. The weight caused his legs to buckle, and he almost fell over when the pirate behind him gave him a quick, swift kick to the butt. The pirate behind him set down two more kegs he carried on his shoulders, and with Yegar’s dagger, stabbed a hole in one of them. He removed a sack that was tied around his waist, and threw it onto the table, mugs spilling out of the bag and onto the floor.
"That be a good wench, Chimbo! Maybe we won’t be killin’ ya just so soon, yet." said Yegar, now preoccupied with the presence of grog.
The room of pirates suddenly became a flurry of movement, as each pirate scrambled for a mug and made their way to the leaking kegs. Laughter and shouting drowned out Chimbo’s wimpering, as he tried tearing the dress he was wearing from his body. Batur shook his head and left the room.
From behind him, Batur heard Yegar’s explosive voice. "We be right behind you, Captain!" Turning around, Batur saw Yegar with a wide grin across his face, holding up a frothy mug in delight. With a nod, Batur continued his way to the bridge.
After the Ignir Captain and his men finally decided to leave the Movement, leaving behind a dirty, grog-stained room, Rach’n Batur was well into strategizing his plan to assault Forest Base. Pacing around one of the Movement’s briefing rooms, with papers strewn about a large table, illuminated icons running through a preprogrammed sequence of actions, Batur continued to ponder the schematics of the assault. He keyed in a quick sequence of commands at the nearby console, and the space-map vanished, a near-complete blueprint of Forest Base fading in onto the large surface of the table.
Magnifying a section of the organically grown ship, Batur added a few icons to the picture in front of him, and ran the simulation again. He muttered something to himself, then zoomed in on another part of the ship, keying in yet another sequence on the console.
The door to the briefing room slid open, and Commander J’dan walked in. Batur looked up at the senior officer.
"What is it, Commander?"
"We’ve just received two signals from deep space. One seems to be from the Tieskara, and the other from a fighter vessel with UAC registration."
"We don’t have a fighter squadron patrolling out here."
"No, sir, we don’t. We’re not sure where it came from, but the signal is pretty weak. The fighter seems to be pretty shot up, and the Ident frequency isn’t coming through."
"Patch the Tieskara call down here and keep me updated on the fighter. Once it’s within CCR, throw up a three line to here and the bridge."
"Yes, sir." Commander J’dan left the briefing room, opening his communicator on the way out.
Batur looked at the plans to Forest Base, waiting for the call to come through. A couple seconds later, four beeps were followed by a voice that Batur found enticing.
"Captain Batur, are you there?"
Batur smiled. "What a surprise this is."
"I’ve been meaning to call you for the past few days."
"Tiara, these messages can be traced."
"I know, but I – "
"I meant to call you, too." Batur said, quickly. He pictured Tiara as he had last seen her at Darknode. He wished that she were here.
"I saw that posting from one of your officers. Dideran was his name…"
Batur sighed.
"Is it true?"
"Is what true? That he mutinied?"
"No, about what he said. About you."
Batur shook his head. "Of course not, Tiara."
"Promise?"
"Dideran is a liar. I don’t know why he’s doing this, but we’re determined to stop him."
"You didn’t answer my question."
Batur looked at the blueprints of Forest Base. He stared at the base’s command center, the area now visible on the display monitor. He narrowed his eyes in contempt, making a fist with his right hand.
"I promise."
There was a brief moment of silence before Tiara answered. "I believe you."
"I’ve been thinking about you," said Batur.
"And I of you."
"I’ll be coming to your planet in a month or two."
A light on the table’s console lit up, followed by Commander J’dan voice.
"Sir, the fighter is in Common Communication Range."
"Understood, Commander. I’ll be with you in a second," replied Batur.
"Yes sir."
"I’ll let you go," said Tiara.
"I appreciate the call, Tiara. I’ll get in touch with you as soon as this mess is cleaned up."
"Okay. Good luck."
A slight click marked the end of the communication. Batur sighed. He couldn’t stay emotionally torn like this. Shaking his head, he flipped a switch on the console.
"Commander J’dan, is the three way open?"
"Yes, sir. We’re paging the fighter now, and opening visual scanners. Shall I patch them to the briefing room?"
"Yes, Comannder."
A second later, the blue prints to Forest Base disappeared, replaced with the image of a far-away fighter making its way through space.
"Movement to unknown UAC fighter. Do you read?" came Commander J’dan’s voice over the radio.
The reply was filled with static, a faint voice hidden beneath the distorted sound.
Commander J’dan changed frequencies. "Movement to unknown UAC fighter. Do you read?" came the Commander’s voice again.
A clearer reply came through this time. "About frikken time. This is Major Kinsman of Scout Patrol Blackhawk."
"Movement requesting your Ident, Major"
"My signal array is chopped to bits, Movement. I’d have sent you my Ident if it weren’t."
"What are you doing out this far?"
"I got in a bit of a scuffle with my superiors. I figured I’d bomb outta there before I got screwed anymore."
"Where are you coming from, Major?"
"Forest Base."
Batur’s eyes lit up. He hit a switch on the console, making sure that only the Commander could hear him. "Let him dock. I want his ship’s registration by the time I get to the bay. Cross-reference his bio with those I requested earlier. I’ll be there in a second."
"Understood, Captain."
In a matter of minutes, Rach’n Batur was standing in one of the Movement’s docking bays. Commander J’dan walked in a few moment after him.
"What’s the word, Commander?"
"Major Kinsman was stationed at Forest Base as head of their scouting operations. He’s a human who joined up with the UAC for the thrill of the ride. He’s proven himself loyal countless times since, and received three honorary awards in two campaigns."
"A rankee, huh?"
"Yes, sir. He served as pilot in multiple covert ops missions. He was the pilot responsible for getting our men into the Chilkit Coalition before the High Clerist’s assassination, and has acted in nine reconnaissance missions to the edges of Naganara space. He’s probably one of the best fighters we have."
"And the fact that he’s fleeing from Dideran could mean that he’s loyal."
"We’ve done scans on the fighter he’s in. It’s a modified scouting vessel with little cargo room. Chances that he’s carrying any explosive devices are very small. I’ve sent down a sweeper team to check out the fighter once it lands."
"Very good. This may be the opportunity we need. Once the Major lands, continue on course to Outpost Infinity."
"Yes sir." The Commander turned around and left, just as the sweeper team he requested came in, followed by armed UAC guards.
In a few minutes time, the wrecked fighter craft of Major Kinsman slid into the fighter bay, landing with a loud bang. Steam swirled off the heated fighter, and Batur was surprised at how badly damaged the scout was. Whole panels were blown off the fighter’s body, and burn marks seemed to cover more of the fighter than paint.
The cockpit door creaked open, Major Kinsman drudgingly climbing down the ladder pressed against the fighter by the sweeper team. As the pilot approached Batur, the sweeper team immediately went to work, activating an assortment of scanning devices and systematically dismantling the fighter’s accessible parts.
"Greetings, Major," said Batur, watching as the fighter pilot approached.
"Rach’n Batur. It’s an honor."
"I appreciate the praise, but we have a predicament on our hands to which you may be of great help."
Kinsman nodded. He looked tired. His uniform was ripped and slightly charred, though his dirtied face seemed to compliment his brown hair. Even though it was obvious that Kinsman wasn’t feeling as up as he usually did, he didn’t look as though he were ready to bail from duty.
"You mean the siege on Forest Base?"
"Siege?" questioned Batur.
"Yea, the attack on Forest Base. Or can I help you with some other problem?" The weary pilot managed to flash a grin.
"That certainly changes things. Why would Dideran be attacked after condemning us?"
"Sir, I don’t think we’re in the same Sector here."
"No, obviously not, Major. What siege are you talking about?"
"Five days ago we were attacked by an unknown enemy in Divan fighters. There were probably twenty or so ships coming in. When it was obvious that they weren’t there for sightseeing, our whole fighter contingent was dispatched. The enemy’s fighting methods were a bit odd, but we managed to win. Trouble didn’t start until 24 hours later."
"Continue."
"We entered a high-end psychic zone about ten hours after the fight. During a funeral for three of our dead pilots, the ship’s systems started acting up big-time. The ship started focusing and refocusing the psychic energies in the system, and we couldn’t figure out why they were fluctuating so much. I was convinced that the on-board scanners were wrong, so I took out my team to run some tests. At first we thought that our theory was right, since our scanners showed information completely different than those in Forest Base. We ran a couple more tests to make sure, and we found out that Forest Base was actually distorting the psychic energies. First, the psychic wavelengths were pressurized, almost to a null effect. After about 15 hours, though, Forest Base was pushing the psychic wavelength to gargantuan levels."
"And Commander Dideran did nothing to stop this?"
"On the contrary. Commander Dideran was who gave us permission to run our tests. The casualties from the enemy attack were mostly from bio-weapons, and the Commander debriefed the wounded himself. Though I swear many of them were pretty busted up, they healed almost entirely by the time a day had elapsed. Shortly thereafter, Dideran demanded we stop the tests, without a reason as to why."
"Bio-weapons?"
"Yea. The missile bays on the Divan fighters were modified to launch bio-matter shells. They weren’t fatal, but rather damaged the ships through brute force. Even when the enemy managed to take out our drive systems, they’d launch their bio-matter bombs anyway. In most cases, they targeted the cockpit. The bombs would crack the cover and seep onto the pilot."
"And they didn’t kill the pilots?"
"No, none of our pilots were killed by the bombs. We didn’t understand it ourselves."
"So how did you come to leave Forest Base?"
"After the Commander ordered us to stop our tests, he started meeting with the men in my squadron one by one. When word started getting around about our test’s results, my men were told to keep quiet by Commander Dideran. What was more peculiar was that he cancelled shore leave for our squadron, which was already well overdo. When a psychic in my squadron started getting sick because of the psychic levels in Forest Base, we demanded an answer as to why the Commander didn’t do anything about it. There wasn’t any reason that repairs weren’t being made, or why no effort was being put towards controlling the psychic energy. My squadron was always pretty close, and after all this weird stuff was going down, two members of my squadron took off to get our psychic buddy away from the base. They didn’t abandon or anything; they used their practice time to run some maneuvers and get off the ship for a while. Lieutenant Briggs, who was one of the wounded in the battle the day earlier, demanded they come back. He was never a jackass, so they decided he was just playin’ around. He ended up dispatching Predator squadron, and a dogfight ensued. It wasn’t my place to just sit and watch, so I hopped in my fighter and tried reasoning with Briggs. Commander Dideran was nowhere to be found, and Briggs just kept saying that he was in charge until Dideran was back."
"And so you jumped in to defend your squadron?"
"After going through three months of drilling for the UAC, I became loyal to its ‘cause. But Brigg’s behavior, and everything going on over the past day, was too much for me to deal with, sir. So yes, I went to defend my squadron, disobeying command."
"And that’s why you’re here, now."
Kinsman nodded. "Predator squadron was better equipped than the Blackhawks; our ships cost more, because they’re light fighters with decent ammo, but the heavy fighters in Predator squadron last much longer in a dogfight. We put up a good fight, and would have stuck around longer, but what happened next was beyond our comprehension."
"Which was?"
"Three Predator fighters had odd missile configurations. On two instances, we witnessed why."
There was a brief pause, as Kinsman looked back at his ship.
"They fired the bio-weapons, sir. They hit everyone in my squadron that was out, before we realized what the hell was going on. We decided to get our tails outta there, and they must have thought they hit me too, because they let us go for seemingly no reason."
"But you’re the only one here, Major."
"Yea, I know." Kinsman bowed his head. "We planned to dock ASAP, and alert high command. We figured that something fishy was going on, but after two more days of cruising, the three others that were with me decided to go back. It was pretty unexpected, and they all rang in at the same time, without much discussion at all. They couldn’t have been with Briggs all along, but when they realized I wasn’t of like mind, they attacked me. I lost most of my systems in the dogfight, but managed to take two of them before I afterburned out. I lost the third in an asteroid field, laying low. One of my engines was hit by an asteroid field, and exploded after being torn from my fighter. He must have thought that I was killed in the field, and because my Ident was damaged, I wasn’t registering on his system, which was already short of its primary sensor array. When he took off, I managed to land on a passing frigate, and found enough parts to get my fighter in working order. I promised the frigate I’d repay them when I hit home. I took off the next day and after a couple hours of flying, I ran into you."
"That’s quite a story, Major. I bet you’re itching for some rest."
"That I am, sir."
"I’ll have Commander J’dan assign you a room. You get yourself cleaned up, and I’ll see you in a couple hours to make heads or tails of this situation."
"Yes, sir. Thank you."
Batur nodded, turning on his communicator and relaying some orders to J’dan.
"It’s clean, sir," said the leader of the sweeper team. The equipment was already being packed up, and the team was leaving the bay.
"How did the damage come about?"
"Mostly energy-based weapons. The repairs are shabby at best, but I don’t see any sign of self-inflicted damage. The pilot must be a hell of a fighter, ‘cause we found at least five different sets of energy residue. He must have warded off a semi-squadron at least."
"Yes, he’s one of our best. Anything else?"
The leader of the sweeper team looked down at some sort of digital registry, scrolling down the entries he made. "Actually, there was something weird. Some sort of organic mass collided with the ship’s hull, but didn’t penetrate. Almost as if the ship hit some sort of space-faring animal, like a space slug. The indentation seems to suggest that it was made out of nanites, emitting some kind of psychic energy in order to control itself. All the residue was likely burnt off, though, so there aren’t any tests we can run on it."
"That’s all I really need to know, actually. Good work."
Batur looked at the broken fighter for a few seconds then left the bay. Something really weird was going on.
"I take it Commander J’dan briefed you?" said Batur.
The young pilot nodded, looking a lot better than he did when he arrived on the Movement. Kinsman wasn’t in his flight suit any longer, wearing a plain UAC uniform that J’dan managed to find for him. After a couple hours of rest, Kinsman seemed much more alert than his encounter with Batur hours earlier.
"Yes, sir."
"And you have no idea why Dideran made that statement?"
"No, sir, I don’t. He was most loyal to our cause, and always spoke highly of you."
"How often did you see Dideran?" Batur motioned for Kinsman to enter the briefing room. The two had scheduled to meet in the briefing room after dinner, to discuss Forest Base’s defenses.
"Not too often. He was a fine officer, and met with the lower-ranking officers in the main lounge every couple days."
Batur walked to the console near the desk and keyed in a sequence of commands. The door to the briefing room closed, and the blueprints to Forest Base lit up on the table’s surface, as they had hours earlier.
"I asked you to come here to help me strategize a plan to siege Forest Base. You’re the only person who’s been to Forest Base in the last month, and of us all, probably know it best."
"I can help you with the overall floor plan, though I wasn’t permitted to enter most of the secure areas. Aside from those adjacent to the docking bays, I didn’t have access to much else."
"Understood, Major. Our primary objective, of course, is to get a team into Forest Base and take it apart from within. Your own statements suggest that there’s more going on than a simple mutiny. Since you have no knowledge of any mutiny brewing, we have to assume that something else is at hand."
"If anything was going on, I’d have gotten word of it. Most of the guys I hung with were a rebellious bunch, and if there was any sign of a mutiny, they would have told me, if only to warn me."
"Yes, from your bio I see you weren’t always the respectable Major you are now."
Kinsman grinned, trying to force a straight face. "I’d like to think I’ve changed for the better."
"Your help will prove that, Major."
Kinsman nodded, waiting for Batur’s next question.
"We have information on most of Forest Base’s layout, though we’re missing pertinent information on the drive systems and generators. If something aside from a mutiny is afoot, blowing the Base away won’t solve much. I’m willing to risk a strike team if it means we can answer some of the questions your report brought up."
"As far as I know, all the drives were working when the strike happened. I didn’t hear otherwise after the attack, either."
Batur started making notes to himself on a digital writing device.
"Our plans right now are to confront Forest Base with a force large enough to either push them back physically, or scare them into turning around."
"Where are they going?"
"Towards a more populated area of space. Dideran figures that if he can get to public space, outside of the Oblivion area, that any attack against Forest Base will be met with an attack by the local militia. Besides, we can’t sneak a force large enough to cripple Forest Base into an Empire we have no jurisdiction in. That would cause even more problems."
"Forest Base received two new fighter squadrons a month ago, and their defensive systems can take out at least five frigates, no problem. If you consider the skill of the pilots on board, and the maximum energy output of their offensive cannons, they could potentially ward of two battleships without so much as a scratch."
"I know, that’s the problem."
"I apologize if this is none of my business, sir, but do we have that kind of force in the region?"
"No. Which is why we’re calling in Fleet Dread."
Kinsman raised an eyebrow. "I didn’t think our alliance with them was so tight."
"There’s a lot you don’t know, Major."
Kinsman nodded, feeling a bit uneasy. He had forgotten who he was talking to, and started to feel a bit embarrassed.
"So, considering the course that Forest Base is taking, we need information on what drives it has."
"I wish I knew more, but if I could list off all the drive systems, I wouldn’t be a pilot," said Kinsman with a slight grin.
"Ruinic drives?"
"Yea, I think so. We had some modifications done during our stay in the Reid Empire, and a bunch of the drives we had installed were experimental. As far as I know they all passed their tests in the Badlands."
"How about non-spatial drives? Anywhere you know that Forest Base couldn’t travel?"
"When we were running maneuvers in the Oblivion area?"
"Or elsewhere."
"Well, we were about 80 percent effective in the Badlands, for about an hour at most. Disregarding the aberrant zones, I think the Nestillion quantum zone was out of our league, and -"
"That’s it. Forest Base is organic, and even under its shields, aqueous pressure would cause proportional problems." Batur was talking to himself as much as he was to Kinsman.
Kinsman nodded.
"Major, are you aware of the generator locations?"
"Yea, they’re all connected to the heart."
"And can you point that out to me on the map?"
Kinsman nodded, taking a step towards the table and pointing to Forest Base’s heart. "I think the fuselage runs down this way, and the energy transport systems run at bilateral angles, above and below the main deck." Kinsman drew lines along the paths he was describing with his fingers. "The core is here, though it’s cut off from the main deck by locked valves. The only way in is through security clearance."
"These security features were grown after Forest Base went on its maiden voyage. Earlier, the doors could be burnt through with high-powered blowtorches."
"Not anymore, sir. There are secondary valve systems within the Base’s body, and they’ll close behind the attackers if they try blowing through. After that, the locked down room will flood to drown the attackers."
"And there’s no other way in?"
Kinsman studied the map. "Actually, sir, there’s another way in, but not on foot.
Batur looked at Kinsman questioningly.
"The extra drives were added by manually attaching them to the heart, instead of waiting for the Base’s growth to latch on itself."
"Yes, I heard about that. The drives were flown in, correct?"
"Yes, sir. The cargo bays are accessible via the underbelly, and a thin valve extends to an upper area. The drives were flown in through there. The tunnel leads straight to the heart, and conversely, the main deck."
"The blueprints suggest that the tunnel is too thin for a transport to enter…"
"Yea, which is why the Commander had the drives carried in via light fighters. The fighters needed heavy modification, but ended up saving lots of time and money in the end. It was a hell of a flight, too."
"If the strike team fails, we’ll need to take out that core. Either way, we’ll need someone to navigate the tunnel. You say Dideran put you on the team to install the drives?"
Kinsman nodded, unable to hold back a grin. "Yes, sir. I’m the best."
In the dark, black yonder, the Movement was ready to dock with the huge asteroid that loomed ahead. Smaller asteroids and dislodged masses of rock smashed into the Movement’s shields, sending ripples of energy across the ship’s body. The UAC flagship, though larger than most cruisers of its class, looked small compared to the asteroid it approached.
Outpost Infinity, so named because of the countless other asteroids it resembled, was well protected in the heart of a giant asteroid field. In an unmapped q-zone, Outpost Infinity was formed thousands of years ago when the quantum zone it was in filled with an acidic mist that ate through much of the q-zone’s matter. It was very possible that at one point, a vast civilization thrived where the Outpost now stood, though after ages of acidic decay, all that was left of any planet or civilization was a quantum zone filled with asteroids.
Highly defendable, Outpost Infinity was run on ruinic generators, mapped to a once-profound astrological setup. Though there weren’t any static channeling points or celestial structures in the system, thorough research and illegally possessed documents allowed Batur and his followers to set up a base, one of the few the UAC managed to upkeep. Once the rendezvous points for many of the Anarch leaders during the era of the Kalikari Empire, Outpost Infinity quickly became the center for staging UAC campaigns.
Above all, Outpost Infinity was the meeting place for The Legion.
"Sir, we have clearance to dock."
"Bring her in, Commander." Batur watched the large asteroid grow larger as the Movement approached. Seven large capital ships were already docked with the Outpost, sticking out like spikes on the head of a mace. The shield generators inside the Outpost maintained constant protection from the free-flowing asteroids, both for the Outpost itself and those ships docked with it.
"Shall I arrange for an escort, sir?"
"No, that’s quite alright. Once the ship is locked down, meet me on the Outpost. We’ll have a briefing later tonight."
"Yes, sir."
Rach’n Batur left the bridge, making his way down to the lower docking bay. He was almost happy to be there, despite the reason for the meeting. Aside from the Movement, Outpost Infinity had been the only location that he could call home; its caverns were a reminder of why he started the UAC so long ago. In fact, it was here that he felt most at ease, not only because he knew that no one was following him, but because he would sit among equals.
The Legion was composed of powerful moffs from across the galaxy, founding members of what the UAC was to become. Though Batur tried his best to maintain a solidified purpose to the UAC, its growth was only possible through the agreement of other crime bosses and influential individuals. This not only eased competition, but also made it easier for the UAC to assert its power over other underground organizations. The result was a well-experienced council of feuding overlords, who, in The Legion’s infancy, argued as much amongst themselves as with their enemies. Of course, many of them were enemies until Batur formed The Legion, and united them under the UAC network. After enough time had elapsed for the UAC to settle, however, The Legion became a very competent council, and became the bogeyman of criminals across the Sector.
Batur breathed in the thick, humid air of the Outpost, as he walked through the opened airlock leading out of the Movement’s lower docking bay. He gave a nod to the guards at the other end of the airlock, who saluted him as a general. Those stationed at Outpost Infinity were some of the most well disciplined soldiers the UAC had. This alone made Batur feel more at ease, as it was the type of surrounding that Batur had grown up in.
"Rachtungferhanden."
Then, of course, was the excitement of seeing his old friends again, thought Batur.
"Deth’rak!" Batur looked the Kalikari up and down. He hadn’t changed one bit.
"Still in Wargarb, Rach’n?"
Batur nodded, brushing his right hand against his left arm. "I find that it keeps the soldiers in line."
Deth’rak nodded. "Had the Elders seen your success they may have gone about your seizure differently."
Batur grinned. "Either way, they wouldn’t have succeeded."
Deth’rak smiled, patting Batur on the shoulder. "It’s good to see you, old friend."
"That’s a nice thing to hear, Deth’rak. It’s not often I hear those words."
"Thus is our curse, Rach’n. We wage a noble war, though it comes with many a flaw."
Batur nodded, looking his old friend in the eye. He had known Deth’rak for many years, when he first waged war against the Kalikari Empire. When Batur first began to conquer the Anarch contingents and bring them under one flag, Deth’rak joined him. Once a promising politician of House Reklan, Deth’rak became an Anarch general in little time, and when he saw the success and eagerness of Batur, he signed on as Batur’s right hand.
"Has The Legion been assembled for long?"
"No, Methuselah only arrived an hour ago, and Abraham’s still aboard his ship.
"Well then, I suppose we should call the meeting."
"So soon?"
Batur nodded. "Time is a commodity we don’t have."
"Very well then, I will have them fetched."
"I’ll meet you in the hall, then?"
"Of course," said Deth’rak, turning. He walked towards one of the stairways leading out of the bay, as Batur took another.
A few minutes later, Batur found himself in the great hall, the center of Outpost Infinity. The room was larger than one would expect, hollowed out by acidic mists that were once native to the zone. A large table, similar to the one in the Movement’s briefing room, stood fastened to the ground, projector arrays and other computer machinery sticking out of the ceiling. When Batur entered the room, he found himself among some of the Sectors most well known criminals, and some of the most mysterious personalities one could hope to meet. If Omnet knew about this place, they’d have a field day, thought Batur.
In one corner was Su’uk Ul-Mar, the Ghoiite War Chief. He was well known in the Rhuk D’kai Dynasty as at least third in the hierarchy of the Literalist Movement, and an icon of the New Ghoiite Nations. The NGN was an extremist, fanatical religious organization bent on the rigid interpretations of Gho, the primary god of the RDD. Almost a year earlier, Su’uk Ul-Mar was recognized as the fiercest combatant to represent the Literalist Movement in the Mad Sildrake War. Though the UAC was not a supporter of the war, a war that came to influence a great deal of Sector H, it came to supply many of its factions after the death of Sildrake the Mad of the Thrak Divan Empire. From then on recognized as an ally of the remaining Sildrake supporters, the UAC quickly cashed in on relief packages and munitions support, finding the NGN a suitable ally in the UAC’s own war. During these relations, when the UAC sought harbor for many of its forces, Su’uk Ul-Mar met Rach’n Batur in person, sent as an emmissary of the Ashiaata. Soon thereafter, he was offered a position on Batur’s Council.
Across the room, sitting at a computer console, was the ancient Golem known as Methuselah. Batur had known him for many months, after the UAC proposed a deal with the FarReach Coalition that would benefit both governments. The stocky, mysterious Golem was a curious member of the Legion, usually quiet and conservative unless it came to real action. Often, he was seen with a wide grin on his face, when the rest of the council was involved in a serious matter, often unnerving to the gathered Legion. Though a respected and competent ally, Batur knew that Methuselah’s presence in the Legion was not only for the UAC’s sake. In fact, Batur often wondered how long the UAC’s factions could exist in peace with one another. Most all vied for individual power, and Methuselah and his organization were no different. Often, Batur drew parallels between Methuselah and the Kalikari Elders, and through this, he was able to stay one step ahead, knowing very well the political games the Elders played.
"And our glorious leader returns."
Batur turned to face the oncoming grin of one of the most roguish men he had ever met.
"You ought to find that woman of yours and spend more time with her," said the man, pointing a finger at Batur.
"What woman?" questioned Batur, keeping up his veil of secrecy.
The man shrugged. "I spoke to Yegar last night, and he said you had your eye on some lovely dame."
Batur pushed a grin. "And you, Torin?"
The man shrugged. "I wish I had time. You just get here?"
Batur nodded. Torin always avoided the subject of women, much like Batur.
"Yes, not more than 15 minutes ago. I thought I’d come down and say hello before the rest of the Legion arrives."
"Yes, me too. I’ve spent way too much time aboard my ship to pass up a chance to talk to the Legion." Torin flashed a grin, glancing about the room.
"You spoke to Yegar last night?"
Torin nodded. "I ran into him. My corvette was unmarked, and the brigand decided he needed some more supplies. After a short run-in and two wounded men later, he apologized with a barrel of ale."
"You made good timing then," said Batur, looking the rogue over. "Last I heard he was en route to Sector G for a courier run."
Torin Kaval was tall for a human, standing a little over six feet, sporting blond hair and glassy, blue eyes. He was almost thirty years old, a roguish man who had made himself into a successful leader of one of the largest crime rings in the Sector. Lenient and kind, Torin was the smalltime legend that many young criminals looked up to in hopes that they too could be successful. Though Torin made his job look so easy, carrying legitimate credits for use in countless Empires, and a namesake that brought respect in many underworld rings, Batur saw something in Torin that counterbalanced his successes. Something within the young man was far from joyous, and in many ways, Batur figured it was what drove Torin on.
"I had to jump three systems and take a route down the Mir. When I got word that you called the meeting, I was lucky to have a deal going on near the K’tan Protectorate there, so I had a ship and enough fuel to get here."
"Still getting around as usual then, I take it?"
Torin nodded. Though he waged as much power as most criminals wished to, he didn’t always act like it. His criminal empire was based on the acquisition and reselling of stolen goods, fencing operations that were both extremely organized, and well protected. With as many ties to law organizations as those to underground contacts, Torin’s exploits were called for by many bidders, including those regions controlled by the K’tan. The very need for quickly delivered goods and fast-paced operations made Torin’s organization different than most, as his ships consisted of few capital ships, light freighters, and few military vessels. This kept him on his toes, never spending too much time on any given ship, and always travelling from place to place. His near-monopoly on the organized fencing and smuggling of goods brought him against many competitors, and so his alliance with the UAC kept the big boys off his back, and the money faucets wide open.
"Greetings, Rach’n Batur. Rumors of your death are false, I see." Su’uk Ul-Mar grinned widely, approaching Torin from behind. Quickly, the young rogue stepped away, uneasily sliding a hand to his dagger’s sheath.
"They usually are," returned Batur, extending a hand to greet the Ghoiite War-Chief.
Ul-Mar firmly grasped Batur’s hand with a prosthetic limb made of ul’ek, a psionically-shaped material that was most flexible in its use.
"Excuse me, gentlemen, but I think I’ll greet the other leaders." Torin bowed, making a quick exit. Batur wondered if it was because of disinterest, or because of disgust. The Ghoiite warrior’s appearance wasn’t the most pleasant in the Legion, and Batur knew that most sentients tended to avoid beings of a repulsive visage.
Ul-Mar grinned as Torin left, either delighting in the intimidating presence of his being, or joyous that Torin chose not to listen in. His face disfigured by M’karian Psi-Cancer, left with a seething mass of pulsing green tendrils running over, under and through his light blue flesh, Ul-Mar was as much a monster as a renowned warrior. The whole left side of his face was mutated, and his left eye was left clouded over with disease, as improper treatment of the cancer left the Shiamiite a frightful reflection, one that many colleagues couldn’t bear to see.
"On behalf of the Ashiaata of Shiamaash and the NGN Council, I need to speak to you after this meeting," said Ul-Mar.
"About?"
"The resurgence of Sildrake the Mad has left my pirate brethren in confusion. There is talk of another war, and my presence in the Legion dictates a truce with Sildrake, on the UAC’s behalf."
"This is, of course, a dire matter."
Ul-Mar nodded. "I have not yet spoken to the other Legion members, for the will of Gho asks for your support, before that of our esteemed council."
"You know I hold your alliance in great regards, Su’uk, but it was my stand in the Mad Sildrake War to remain neutral. There are too many who would oppose Sildrake a second time for the UAC to fly a flag of allegiance."
Ul-Mar nodded, looking at his ally with narrowing eyes. "Respectfully, I ask you to rethink your former decision, Batur. Matters have changed, and Sildrake’s army is ever growing. Though his enemies have forgotten that he has returned, events are unfolding that will force sides to be chosen. The NGN looks upon you and the UAC as an honorable ally, but neutrality won’t grant you further favor among our government."
Batur nodded, thoughtfully. "We will discuss this later, Ul-Mar. Before the UAC can think about its future, it is far more pertinent for it to think about its survival."
"Then our words shall cross later."
Batur nodded, watching the Shiamiite head off towards his seat at the large table.
Sighing, Batur glanced across the room, and before deciding to find out what Deth’rak was up to, the Kalikari emerged from one of the room’s entrances, followed by a small group of people, each nodding to Batur and making their way to their respective seats. Those in the room prior to the group’s arrival quickly finished what they were doing, and likewise returned to their seats. With a moment of chatter and greetings, the room became quiet, and a scent of posterity was in the air. The gathered sentients, each highly influential in their native area of the galaxy, looked upon each other with both a mixture of respect, and caution.
Batur stood up, looking at each leader carefully.
"I’m sorry to call all of you here today on such short notice. However, a problem that requires our immediate attention threatens the life of the United Anarchist Collective."
Batur paused momentarily, waiting for signs of recognition from his audience.
"Most of you have likely heard about the broadcast from the Discordia, more commonly known as Forest Base, one of our primary installations in this Sector. The battle station, equipped with a detailed contingent of UAC forces, was attacked weeks ago, setting off a chain of events that could bring the vengeance of many Minor Empires upon us.
"Unless proper action is taken, this threat could erupt into a full-scale hunt for UAC allies, sources and supporters. To subvert the actions of those potential supporters of the mutiny, we must act quickly and carefully, as the distress call from Forest Base is not as it seems."
"Explain yourself," said Methuselah, holding fast to his demeanor, moving not an inch, and maintaining his cold expression.
"From a first-hand account, there is evidence that Forest Base was attacked by a biological opponent, one that either falsely assumed the identity of Commander Dideran and his crew, or one that was psionically capable of forcing Dideran to surrender his ship and forces. This unknown enemy used Dideran to portray false information about the UAC, and bring about support from outside factions to eradicate the UAC."
"You commanded the attack on the Tru-Lan Imperium months ago. They come from a biological quantum zone, and could very well be our enemy." Ul-Mar sat back, pleased with his analysis.
Batur nodded. "Though many Empires would see us dead, few are cunning enough to weave this threat, and few have enough rage to attack us outright. Our terrorist attack on the Tru-Lan could very well have been the catalyst to set off such a reaction, however."
Batur spoke about a highly successful terrorist attack on the Tru-Lan Imperium, after another successful campaign in the Chilkit Coalition. After assassinating the Chilkit High Clerist, setting off a series of events that would eventually bring the dictatorship down in light of a new government, the UAC ops team responsible brought Batur the crown of the fallen leader. When it was proven that the crown held a magical seal that trapped the entirety of disease from throughout the Chilkit’s history, Batur decided the trap would be useful as a weapon. Within days, he had it placed inside the Tru-Lan Imperium, killing thousands of Tru-Lan spawn, and maiming their contact with the Greater Galaxy.
"No," spoke a figure. "The Tru-Lan are creatures of brute force. If they wanted to strike at our heart, they would have sent out spies and soldiers."
"I agree with Syndrik. The scheme before us is someone else’s doing," said Torin, who was interrupted by a beeping from his portable computer.
"Perhaps you want us to overlook your brothers," came Ul-Mar, looking at Syndrik with a scowl. "What makes you so sure the Tru-Lan wouldn’t use subterfuge to undermine us?"
Syndrik turned his huge head to face the Ghoiite. "Don’t test me, Su’uk."
"Can’t you answer the question?" Ul-Mar asked.
Syndrik growled. Were Outpost Infinity under his command, Ul-Mar would be dead. "The roots sprouting from your head are just the beginning."
Ul-Mar slammed a fist on the table, jumping up in accusation. "You know nothing, barbarian!"
Syndrik pushed his chair back, standing up to reveal his full height. His towering figure looked menacing in the lighting of the room. Anywhere but among the Sector’s most dangerous criminals, Syndrik would have frightened everyone in the room.
"Enough!" said Batur. "Sit down," he continued, calmly.
The two figures eyed each other, taking their seats. It wasn’t often that Syndrik Durath was present at a Legion meeting, much less active in conversation. When he spoke, it was usually to protect his own circle, or to direct the Legion when most dire. His origin was the Tru-Lan Imperium, outcast because of a sense of strong will, not in conformity to Tru-Lan principles. While most spawn were psionically linked to their god Goghth, Syndrik was one of the few "cancers" that were not, and thus subject to a death sentence. After a personal history shrouded in secrecy, the Tru-Lan escaped his Empire to build contacts with the nearby Kalikari Anarchs, and upon the UAC’s official establishment, was invited to sit on the Legion. Since, he had acquired many underworld contacts, and earned a name as a fierce weapons supplier by many allied organizations. Still, Syndrik’s legitimate weapons trade, and open communication with certain Empires, made many of his peers weary of him, and more often than not, he was accused of selling them out. Being a Tru-Lan, even if a corrupt one, was not a good position for him to be in.
Ul-Mar murmured something about Gho, then apologized to the Legion, while Syndrik merely looked on with a sly grin on his face. Few would oppose the monolith physically, and only when beside Methuselah did the Tru-Lan not look like a goliath.
"Excuse me if I’m interrupting an emotional moment, but I’ve got an update on Dideran’s statement." Torin looked at both Ul-Mar and Syndrik, pushing a grin to put the two at ease.
Batur waited for someone to respond, leaving room for a brief pause in the room. "Go on," he continued, motioning for Torin to explain.
Briefly glancing about the room, Torin brought up a report on his computer. "A smuggling vessel of mine was captured no more than three hours ago. It was a light freighter with two crewmen, holding a stash of Kalikari thought-crystals being moved from a retired ship to one of our warehouses in Jarkaspace. The smuggling vessel was taken siege by a small taskforce of allied Minor Empires after a tip sent to them by Commander Dideran."
"What was on the crystals?" asked Methuselah.
"We’re not certain at this point. They once belonged to a Kalikari politician known as Lord Hyren, an early supporter of the Anarch movement in the Kalikari Empire. After an untimely death, his Anarch contingents were assimilated into what would become the UAC. We think the thought-crystals were a donation of some sort, given to his Anarch forces for some important reason." Torin looked over at Batur for confirmation.
Batur nodded, noting his cue to continue. "At the time, the Anarch forces in the Kalikari Empire were still quite volatile. Opposing contingents were at war with one another, as well as with the Kalikari government. Though Lord Hyren could have given the thought-crystals to his Anarch forces as communication supplies, it’s unlikely. Though the crystal’s use was not uncommon in communication matrices, this particular shipment was hidden in the Reid Empire, apparently because of their importance in one of Hyren’s visions. After his forces dropped from the Anarch cesspool, we managed to obtain the crystals from the Reid government, and have since been shuffling them about. Until recently, we didn’t have the tools necessary to decrypt the contents of the thought-crystals, but after repairing machinery on one of our earlier UAC vessels, we decided to take a stab at it."
"What does it matter what was on the crystals? Dideran couldn’t possibly have known," said Ul-Mar.
"Then why would Dideran have that particular ship seized? He had knowledge of over 25 of my smuggling routes, at least five of which had ships on it at the same time. All of them were slower ships than the one he pointed to, and none of them were in an obscure q-zone." Torin shut off the computer, closing the screen’s access panel.
"You don’t think his choice was random?" asked Deth’rak..
Torin shook his head. "If the mutiny had a purpose, either one conceived by Dideran or by a puppeteer, randomness was not a factor, especially considering the pointer he gave the involved Empires was to convince them that he was telling the truth about the mutiny. The more this smuggling siege hurt us, the better a position Dideran would be in."
"So you think that whatever was on the crystals was quite valuable," replied Methuselah.
"Yes," said Torin. "Knowing Dideran, there was a reason for choosing that ship."
Batur turned to Methuselah. "Can your organization obtain information on the siege?"
The massive Golem nodded. "Information will be distributed along our normal channels."
Batur nodded. "As for the Tru-Lan issue," he continued, "we should look into their knowledge of these events whether or not they are guilty. Any light we can shed on our predicament is a useful one."
Syndrik shook his head.
"We’ll dispatch a team to the Tru-Lan Imperium to find out what we can," said Batur. "Your help will come in handy, Syndrik. I’d like you to select the team in question."
A frown covered the Tru-Lan’s face. "If you wish, Batur."
"And the matter with Dideran? Do we simply ignore him until we know more?" asked Ul-Mar.
Batur shook his head. "No, waiting it out will not be an option.. I’ve discussed plans with Captain Yegar. We’re going to assault Forest Base directly, pushing it into a quantum zone where it won’t be able to function well. After rendering the base immobile, we’ll flush out the traitors and leave the wreckage for Fleet Dread."
"This operation will tax all our resources, Batur," said Ul-Mar, concerned.
"Yet necessary nonetheless. Our forces will rendezvous in three days near the edge of the Hirocrian Badlands, assembled in formation. With Yegar’s support, Dideran will be forced to flee or suffer outright annihilation."
Deth’rak broke his silence. "If Dideran really is a pawn in this mess, how do we ensure minimal losses? The enemy could be greater than we expect."
"Our armada’s movement must be minimal regardless, so as to keep neighboring suspicions down. While the capital ships set up a moving blockade, the primary assault will be led by an assortment of fighter squadrons. These ships will take out the Discordia’s core while pulsar blasts repel it towards the Nestillion Empire."
The room grew silent, as a large map lit up on the table.
"Gentlemen, this is the plan…"