Chapter 7

Okay.  For all the new MOAGers out there this is chapter 7 of the History Of Atrius Preim.  To read the other 6 chapters, simply click "The Story that shall remain Nameless" in the topics section.  I highly encourage you to read the first six chapters so you know what's going on.  Anyway, to continue on with our story...

Atrius was two blocks ahead of Dannis, Xar, and Shyla. He had been on point, doing a routine sweep when he had found the tracks. He had contacted Dannis, who told him to get out of site and wait for the rest of the group to catch up. There was only 4 of them, and they didn’t want to risk running into any company alone. Atrius had hidden in the lobby of what used to be a large department store, waiting quietly for the rest of the group to show up.

He had just settled down to wait when his scanner started beeping. He quietly thanked Osirius that Hooblabah had at least given them some powered armor. He brought the scanner up on his vid screen. H saw 4 large beings, and they were in the department building and coming this way.

“Dannis. Come in Dannis” nothing. His comunit wasn’t working. He would have found this unusual, but at that moment he saw one of the “visitors” coming down the stairway. It was a Klisk. And it was heavily armed.

He ducked back down behind the reception desk, hoping that the Klisk was not using its scanning equipment. The large laser that punched a hole through the desk next to his head confirmed that yes, the Klisk’s scanner did work, and it was in fact using it. Atrius raised his RS-252 over the desk and returned fire. At this point all Hell broke loose. The Klisk was joined by the other 3 Klisks, and the lobby air sizzled from laser fire and the endless roaring of the Devil’s Bane, the Klisk heavy weapon of choice.

Atrius screamed into his com-unit, but it was still nothing but static. He was crawling along the floor, returning fire over the quickly deteriorating reception desk and was quickly looking for a way out, but it was becoming painfully obvious that there wasn’t going to be one. The desk behind him collapsed into dust as one of the Klisks came crashing down on it. Atrius fired point blank into the chest of the hulking beast, one of his blasts piercing the armor. The Klisk roared in pain, reached down with a speed that caught Atrius off guard, grabbed his foot and threw him like a rag doll across the room and into a wall of elevators. His armor took the brunt of the impact, and Atrius quickly rolled to his feet, RS-252 blasting away as he tried to run away from the 4 advancing Klisks. The wall exploded around him as the Klisks opened fire with their Devil’s Banes. Elevator doors where shredded like they were paper, the marble accents on the walls evaporated into dust, explosions erupting everywhere. Atrius had no chance and he knew it.

It happened, and he was surprised. He felt no pain. He looked at his left arm as the armor disintegrated. He saw the flesh and muscle shred away from the bone, he watched as the blood spray covered his face. He felt the force of the impact forcing him back into the wall, and then, he was through the wall. He was in total darkness, except for the hole that he had just come through. He was slowly falling down, away from the hole and as the black surrounded him the pain came. And with it came death.

Dannis, Xar and Shyla were sitting quietly in the dark alley. After Atrius had called in about the tracks, they were proceeding very slowly, and cautiously. Dannis had quickly ordered the three to turn on their local masking equipment. This hid their armored power output from scanners and also hid their heat emissions. Hopefully Atrius had used his, but Dannis wasn’t sure he was paying attention when they went over that part of the suit training. He ordered the three of them to split up, each going into a separate building, and each to double back as quickly and quietly as possible to the dark alley they had scouted earlier as a good place to hide if the need arose. He had ordered them to turn off their com-units, no need to let whoever it was that was out there follow their communications. This however had the unfortunate drawback that Atrius could not contact them, but they were sure he’d be alright. He was always the one who could get out of anything.

Dannis was watching the street from where they had just come. The alley was a good 3 blocks from where they separated (unfortunately in the opposite direction from Atrius), and offered a good view of the street in both directions. It was very dark, and combined with their local masks, provided excellent cover. He felt a small tap on his shoulder. He turned to Xar, who pointed with two fingers in the direction they were originally headed. Dannis looked over Xar’s shoulder and couldn’t see anything. He signaled to Xar, who held up his hand, telling him to wait. Dannis sat watching the street for what seemed forever. Then he saw them. There where two massive figures sitting in a large building, about 2 blocks away. He turned to Xar and the two of them conversed using hand signals, a skill commonly used in the Conar military. They both agreed that the two were Klisk. Too big for anything else. Dannis didn’t like this turn of events. There was no mention of Klisks being part of the KMF resistance group. It was supposed to be mainly Humans with a few Macaneons and possibly a Gargonan. They could handle Macaneons and Gargonans, but Klisks were an entirely different matter. Shyla tapped both of them on the shoulders and pointed in the direction they had come from. Two more Klisks were making there way down the street, one on each side, sweeping their Devil’s Banes back and forth.

Dannis swore quietly. The Klisks new they were somewhere between the two groups, and the two coming down the street were basically going to drive the three of them into the other two, like hunting Kraells back on their home planet. Well, he wasn’t going to be any part of a hunting expedition, not tonight anyway. He quickly and quietly led Xar and Shyla down the alley. It wound it’s way through the dilapidated buildings for nearly six blocks before opening onto another street that ran parallel to the street they had come up. Dannis hoped to make it to that street, and double back to the landing site. Hopefully Atrius would figure out that something was wrong and he’d head back as well.

They had gone roughly 30 meters when they heard it. Soft footfalls of something that was very big, trying to be very quiet. They quietly ducked into an empty loading dock, and sat quietly, no one daring to move a muscle. The alleyway was extremely dark, so they weren’t worried that they could be seen, but even a Klisk could tell when it bumped into something that shouldn’t be there. They watched as two Klisk came down the alleyway. They were coming single file, the alleyway wasn’t wide enough for them to walk side by side. They had almost passed the three Priems, when they came to an abrupt stop. The Klisk in the lead stood silently for a moment, then reached up and punched a button on the side of his helmet. The blast shield of his armor opened up to reveal his slate-grey face. The other Klisk followed suit.

“So we just sit and wait?” The second said to the first.

“Yes. Those are our orders.”

“Why? They could be anywhere.”

“You heard the report. Something triggered the alarm at site 16. That’s only a click from here, they could have easily gotten there.” The first started rummaging through his hip container. “Besides, site 16 is near their landing zone, so it would make sense.”

“What do you think happened with the little one?” Asked the second. Dannis perked up. Could they be talking about Atrius?

“He’s being taken care of. We’ll have to thank him for showing us where the rest of them where.” The com-unit on the first Klisk beeped on.

“Makaa, what is your position?”

“We’re in the alley, almost to the street.”

“Good, meet us there, we are to proceed to site 16. Out.”

The two closed their blast shields and headed down the alley towards the street. The three Preims sat quietly in the loading dock for 15 minutes. Then Dannis motioned for them to move out. No one said a word for the 2 hours it took to get back to base camp. They quietly and quickly gathered what they needed and headed off to another area of the city, some 20 blocks away, to await pickup from Garrick. Dannis had quietly sent the distress signal to Garrick. Most Conar signals where fleet wide, so that any units near by could come to the aid of those in need. The Priems had modified their signal, so that only Garrick, or other Priems would be alerted. They had 3 hours to get to the pickup site. As they were getting ready to head out, Shyla finally broke the silence.

“Do you think it was Atrius? The ‘Little One’ they were talking about?”

“I don’t know.” Replied Dannis.

“It’s true” Xar said quietly. “We all know it. It was Atrius.”

Dannis and Shyla both stood quietly. Dannis looked around at the camp. “Then I hope he’s enjoying his reward. Because I’m going to kill him.” With that he turned and headed off to the pickup site.

Atrius lay quietly looking at the ceiling. He remembered the klisks, the firefight, even remembered seeing his arm get ripped to shreds. But he especially remembered dying. It wasn’t painful. Or peaceful. It wasn’t anything, just death. He was surprised by that. Atrius didn’t really hold to any type of religious belief. Growing up with the Conar, who’s only religion was the military, never presented himself with much to choose from anyway. He had always thought that there was some purpose, some place a being would go to when they died. It was this hope that kept him looking at the ceiling. It wasn’t exactly the type of ceiling you’d expect in the afterlife. Infact, if he wasn’t so sure he was dead, he’d say it looked just like the ceiling of a basement room in a dilapidated building. And come to think of it, he wasn’t impressed with the afterlife. It was cold and dirty, and certainly not what the afterlife should be. Or at least what he thought it should be.

“You are awake. Good”. The deep voice came from his left. He tried to look at the voice, but as soon as he started to move, intense pain shot through his left side. He was pretty sure he shouldn’t be able to feel that, what with him being dead and all. He was beginning to think that dying was getting the raw end of deal.

“Move as little as possible. You are very weak”. The voice again.

“Where am I?”

“Where do you want to be?” responded the voice.

“I want to not be dead.”

“Well, congratulations are in order.”

“I’m not dead?”

“I would think not. It would make this conversation almost impossible for you.” Atrius thought for a moment. Impossible for you. What did that mean? He tried to sit up again, and again the pain forced him onto his back.

“Please lay still. We have very little time.”

“What do you mean?” Atrius couldn’t see the origin of the voice, and was beginning to get rather irritated by this fact.

“You need to listen to what I will tell you.”

“But…”

“Please stop asking questions.” Atrius could feel the power in the voice. Whoever it was wasn’t asking, but commanding him to be quiet. And along with the command came the sickening feeling that Atrius couldn’t have talked if he wanted to.

“Yes, I can stop you from talking. I can do many things. I would like to say that I saved your life, but fortunately for me, your Gargonan genetical imprint seems to have taken care of that for you.” Atrius could hear the owner of the voice moving. It wasn’t as large as a Klisk, but he was still very nervous as to who, or what, had such power over him.

“You will be found today.” Atrius tried to ask him by who, but again found that he could not speak.

“It doesn’t matter. You will be found.” The voice answered. Atrius was beginning to wonder if he really was dead after all. A shadow cast from some light source, slowly slid across his face. A moment later Atrius was looking at a large Conar, standing over him. There was something familiar about him, but Atrius couldn’t place it.

“You do not know me” answered the voice. “Now I will give you what help I think you deserve. Those who will find you will lead you to your destination.”

Atrius had no idea as to who or what he was talking about.

“No, I suppose you do not know. But if you are lucky, you may learn someday”. The Conar looked down at Atrius.

“Now, time to go.” At this, the room began to swim. Atrius could feel the concrete beneath him engulf him as if he were falling into a pool of water. He could feel the cold, wet, liquid soaking into his clothes, slowly swallowing him whole, and as he went further down into the murky black, he could still see the Conar standing above him. “Atrius. One last thing, breathe.”

He sat up, gasping for air. He was in the bottom of the elevator shaft, lying chest deep in water that had collected at the bottom. The mysterious Conar was nowhere to be seen. Nor was he in the room that he had awakened to not more than 5 minutes earlier. He could see light coming into the shaft up on what he assumed was the ground floor. The doors and walls were riddled with bullet holes. He could see the hole that he had made when he was killed. Killed. It was weird to think. He had died, he was sure. But here he was, alive at the bottom of what should have been his tomb. He tried to get up, but the pain came.

“Damn. I was hoping that had gone with all the other stuff.” Atrius muttered to himself. He fumbled for his medical field pack, which hung on his left thigh. It took him twenty minutes to get it open, seeing as he was radically hampered due to the loss of his arm. He pulled out a Conar standard medical injection kit, and gave himself a shot in the thigh. It didn’t take long for him to feel the pain numbing, and eventually leaving all together. It took him another 15 minutes to find some discarded electrical wire to wrap his mangled arm to his side, and then he set about finding a way out of the elevator shaft.

The lobby was covered in bright daylight when he finally found his way out. He was surprised at the amount of dust in the lobby. He could still make out the markings from that fateful night, but there was a thin layer of dust that covered everything. He thought that maybe he had been down in the shaft for a day, but he was beginning to think that it was much longer.

“Well, I'm pretty sure I won't be getting a cab”, he muttered to himself. He quietly crept to the front window, taking some shelter from some old clothes racks piled up near what used to be the front of the store. There was no movement on the street. Not that he was expecting any. There wasn't any report of activity here for months. Of course there weren't any reports on Klisks being here either, and he remembered how that turned out. He sat quietly, not because he was waiting for anything, more because it was peaceful. He saw the small rodents busying themselves in their hunt for food. He listened to the birds flitting in and out of the large skeletons of the monoliths that were once the downtown financial center. When he finally did come around to doing something, he was pretty sure that he was alone. He got up quietly and walked out the door. He stood there in the shade for a moment, and then quietly headed in the direction of the Preim camp.

It took him an hour to walk to the camp. It was empty. He hoped that meant Dannis had gotten the others out. He spent 15 minutes looking around for any sign that Dannis might have left, some clue that was meant only for him, but found nothing. He slumped down on some debris and for the first time acknowledged that he was alone. They thought he was dead, and they weren't going to come back for him.

Chapter 6

I'm posting all of my story. I made a huge explanation at the start of chapter 3, but then I realized that the first post you'd see is chapter 6, so here's the explanation. I've labeled all of the chapters "The Story that shall remain nameless". I recommend you click on that link there to the right, and start from chapter 1 if you haven't already read it. Anyway, enjoy.

Chapter 6

The Cluut class cruiser slid past the monolithic destroyers that flanked the Admiral’s flagship and out into the system. It went unnoticed through the Conara fleet, silently moving through the parked ships. In turn, it paid no heed to the hundreds of shuttles buzzing about the fleet like irate insects, busily about their duties. All of the Preims sat quietly on the bridge, watching the ships slide as they made their way back to the edge of the system. No one had spoken since they docked to the behemoth that was Admiral Hooblabah’s flagship. No one said a word as they received their new “assignment” from the admiral. No one could speak after learning that Admiral Sentano, their commander, was dead.
The bridge was silent as they finally cleared the outer perimeter of the fleet. Xar was taking the ship back to their quiet little hiding space they had found.
When he had finished shutting down the propulsion systems, he turned to face Dannis, along with the rest of the Preims. Dannis stood and walked to the front of the bridge, looking out the large view port back towards the small blue-green planet the fleet had surrounded.
“We know what we need to do.” Dannis said at last, breaking the silence. “Make your preparations, and meet in the main bay in one hour. Dismissed.” The others slowly left the bridge, letting the moment of honoring the dead last as long as possible, before the years of strict military training forced their minds and bodies into action. Atrius didn’t move, but stood quietly behind his brother. Dannis beckoned him to follow as he headed off the bridge. The two walked quietly to their quarters. Pausing briefly to talk quietly in the hallway, exchanging the customary condolences one would give to a grieving friend.
One hour later the team assembled in the main hangar. Dannis faced the rest of the group. “Okay, we know our assignment. We are to go down and patrol a small section of the continent. It’s basically going to be routine patrol duty, although there is some reports of rebel activity.”
“What do you mean ‘rebel’ activity?” asked Xar.
“Well, the commanding planetary officer seems to think that there is a small element of KMF troops stranded on the planet. These stranded forces are leading the native species, I believe they are called Humans, in raids and general terrorist activities.”
“How many KMF do they estimate to be planet-side?” this time the question came from Garric, which took Dannis by surprise seeing as he usually didn’t talk much during a briefing.
“The estimate they gave us is roughly 30. They are sure that the KMF forces are spread out in at least 5 groups of roughly the same size, so we shouldn’t run into more than 5 or 6 at a time. And they aren’t heavily armed either.” Dannis walked over to a vid screen on the hangar wall and punched in some commands. A detailed reconnaissance image appeared, detailing the area they would be patrolling.
“Luckily for us, no activity has been recorded in our sector. That doesn’t mean they aren’t there, so we have to be on our toes.” He punched in another command, highlighting a small vacant lot in the middle of the city they would be patrolling. “Xar, give us the flight plan and approach data.” Xar walked quickly up to the screen, taking Dannis’ place.
“The approach to the landing site is a little bit out of the way, but we need to skirt these structures here and here” two sections of burnt out skyscrapers were highlighted on the screen. “These pose a threat to us from ground to air fire. So our inbound path will be over the residential area to the north. There are no large buildings to hide in and get a good shot off, especially without us seeing it.” Xar started a simulation showing the approach. “It wont really change too much, but we’ll need to be wary once we land. That’s about the only tight spot on the whole trip. But if the reports are true, then we shouldn’t have to worry about that.”
“Which means that we SHOULD worry about that.” Atrius quipped from the back.
“I agree with Atrius.” added Dannis, “we shouldn’t let the reports of inactivity give us a false sense of security.” Dannis walked up and patted Xar on the shoulder, the unofficial command to join the ranks. Dannis turned off the screen and faced the rest of the group. “All right. Let’s load up the shuttle. We need to be in position in 8 hours, and it’s a 5 hour trip to our designated orbit, so we don’t have much time to waist.” With that, the group sprang into action. It took them almost two hours to load the shuttles with the necessary equipment, rations and weaponry. Xar was able to cut the travel time back to the orbit around Earth by 30 minutes, so they still had 1.5 hours to get to their position on the surface. Xar estimated the landing to take roughly 30 minutes, so they should have time to spare. Xar and Atrius would be taking the shuttle with the majority of the cargo, while Dannis, Shyla, would take the second shuttle and follow them down to the planet. Garrick would stay with the main ship, keeping the small Cluut cruiser out of trouble and providing data and information from the satellite uplink.
The two shuttles left the cruiser and headed down toward the planet. Flipping upside down, they entered the atmosphere in a glowing orange ball of heat and flame. They descended through the soft clouds and approached the burnt out city, Xar leading the way on the proposed flight path. In each shuttle, the pilot was busy guiding their ship through the dead city, while their co-pilots kept an eye out for any sign of the KMF or the Human resistance parties. They met no resistance throughout the flight, and landed without incident.
“Well, looks like the reports were right for once.” Dannis stated dryly. They all nodded in agreement and began setting up their base of operations, using one of the shuttles for the main structure, and adding the various equipment they had brought along just for this purpose. The structure was nearly complete when, at the appointed time, Dannis checked in with the planetary command.
Xar, Shyla, and Atrius were all sitting around the make shift table that had been set up in the back of the shutte, when Dannis came into the cargo area.
“We’ve got our orders.” The others looked up at him. “We are to start with some perimeter searches of the block of buildings to the south, focusing mostly on the large sky-scrapers.”
“When do they want us to start? It’s getting dark out, and walking around those things at night wouldn’t be too smart, in my book.” Stated Shyla.
“We won’t be starting the inspections until tomorrow. And the planetary command will be sending us over a vehicle for transport, so we don’t have to walk everywhere.”
“An Ironhold?” Asked Atrius.
“Don’t be stupid. We’ll be lucky if we get a rusted out APV.” Replied Xar.
“Who knows” added Dannis, “but we can’t worry about that now, let’s get the rest of the base set up, and then we’ll start taking watch, I’ll go first.” And with that, the small group set off to finish setting up the landing site.

The two Klisk stood silently in the burnt out apartment. They watched the two shuttles weave their way through the maze of long abandoned skyscrapers towards the landing zone.
“He didn’t say there’d be two ships” muttered the first.
“We expected such treachery.” Replied the second. He picked up a small rock, then threw it down the empty hallway. At the other end of the hall another Klisk stepped into view. He signaled to the new Klisk to follow the ships. The Klisk nodded and then said something over his shoulder to his three companions. The four of them headed off down the hallway in the opposite direction.
“What do you think they’ll find?” asked the first Klisk.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think it’s a trap?”
“Yes. And so do you. Makaa does as well.”
“What do you think he’ll find?” asked the first.
“I think that the mark will be correct.”
“If it’s a trap, then why would the mark be correct? Wouldn’t they have a squadron of elite troops, ready to ambush us?”
“The mark will be correct, because they want us to fulfill our end of the bargain before they try to kill us.” They were silent for the next while. Silently watching for Makaa’s signal. They didn’t wait long.

Makaa led his little group through the rubble and wreckage that littered the city streets. The sun was setting, and the shadows cast by the city gave them cover, which they needed. A Klisk can be very stealthy and quiet, but not even stealth and silence can successfully hide a 14 ft. tall being. Makaa silently thanked the gods that their approach was happening at dusk. The shadows hung about the city center like a thick fog, even reducing visibility. Perfect setting for a Klisk hunting party.
Makaa led the group to a small intersection, 10 blocks away from the clearing where the two ships landed. After consulting a small map, he pointed to a building on the side on the corner and the group silently entered the building. They found a suitable apartment on the 14th floor. The side of the building had been all glass, but that had long since been shattered, and part of the floor had gone with it. Makaa surveyed the apartment. It was perfect. He and his 3 companions, could sit in the very back of the apartment, completely hidden in shadow. The best part, was that it was a straight shot from their apartment to the landing zone.
Makaa ordered the others to set up all the necessary surveillance gear, and then went to the opposite site of the building. He pulled out a standard flashlight, and pointing it towards the building that they had just left, signaled 5 quick bursts. He was not surprised to see one quick response. He put the flashlight away and headed back to the rest of his squad.
“They are in position.” Jaal looked up from his maps to face the young Klisk who had brought the news. He checked the time on his field computer.
“They are right on time”, he said to his young companion. “Has Ka’on returned?”
“Not yet”. Jaal motioned him away. The young Klisk understood the meaning, and went back to his post. Jaal bent down and continued to study the maps. He had just finished studying the last one when Ka’on appeared in the doorway.
“Did you run into any trouble?” he asked.
“None. You were correct. The kree’aah (a derogatory word used in the Klisk military in specific reference to the Conar, most scholars believe it translates roughly as sewage) have cleared out of the sector. Only the mark remains.”
“And did you complete your purpose?” Jaal asked.
“Yes Sir. Their remains will not be found.”
“Excellent. Tell the others to gather their things, it is time to move up to the forward position with Makaa.” Ka’on nodded and quickly left Jaal with his thoughts. He could here his second in command ordering the others into action. He knew they were ready for what he would ask them to do. Tonight would be the easy part. The mark, a small squad of 4 soldiers would be easy prey. And then things would get interesting.


The small convoy headed down the deserted street, slowly winding through the gutted city. The Major watched as the two APC’s leading the column sped quickly into a large, abandoned train station. They were going to try to use the abandoned subway system that connected the majority of the major cities in Florida. It had only been in use for a few months before the invasion hit, so the majority of the subway tubes had not been connected to the main line. The tunnels had been forgotten in all of the aftermath of the invasion, but a small squad had stumbled upon a nearly completed station just outside of Tampa Bay that seemed to be in pretty good shape. Kalechnostar quickly sent out survey teams to determine the feasibility of use, and found that 89% of the tracks were still in operable condition. They were pretty sure it was undetected by the Demons, and it was determined by Kalechnostar to keep it that way, so the subway tunnels were used only rarely to keep from drawing attention.
There were six vehicles in all. Two APC’s, two large trucks for hauling supplies and equipment, a new hover tank that Kolechnostar had just produced, and a KL-T 90 lite Tank. The Major would have preferred one of the KH-T 5’s, but while being extremely armed, they weren’t the most stealthy vehicles available. He liked the 90, it could hold it’s own against the smaller Demon tanks, but it was the massive tanks the damn things used that really made him nervous. He hoped that they wouldn’t meet any of them on this trip. As for the new Hover Tank, what he had seen in the demonstrations was impressive, but this was the first Hover Tank to be sent on any type of real assignment, and he wouldn’t call it a success until he had seen it in action.
The radio on the dash of the 90 crackled to life.
“Delta 3, this is Delta 1, we are approaching the destination.” The Major picked up the com-mic.
“Delta 1, proceed on heading. Establish visual of target. Delta group hold until my command.”
The convoy had stopped in a large warehouse that was just inside the grounds of the railway station. Delta 1 continued on to the other side of the warehouse. When the APC reached the broad doors that led to the main station rail lines, the Major saw it come to a halt, and watched as the small squad of men slid out of the vehicle, and quietly entered the old depot building that used to contain the station lobby.
“Delta 3, this is Delta 1, ground movement affirmative, proceeding to position” and with that the APC quietly drove through the large bay doors into the abandoned train yard.
“Delta Group, proceed to observation posts” ordered the Major. He watched as the four remaining vehicles all sped across the deserted warehouse, and towards the large bay door.
Eldon Whitaker was a very cautious man. He had learned early in his military career that caution was the first rule when dealing with the Demons. It was this caution that had made him rise quickly in the Kalechnostar ranks, and eventually led him to be under the Major’s command. It was to no surprise that he was leading his small squad with his trademark caution now. The three other men with him, hand picked from his first squad he commanded in Old London, were as cautious as their commander. The squad quietly moved through the old depot station, inspecting every room and more importantly keeping an eye out on the lone APC they could see in the courtyard. It took them 30 minutes to perform their sweep, but Whitaker knew the major wouldn’t mind the wait. They had found no sign of any Demon activity, or presence and Whitaker radioed in his finding.
“Delta 1, this is Red 1, Elvis is on vacation. Red 1 out.” The Major heard the report over his com-unit. The all-clear sign had been given. The Delta Group moved silently, but quickly, through the courtyard and into a large access door that led into the main hall of the station. Inside the hall, they quickly went down the large main stairway that led to the subway train platform below. Whitaker and his men watched from the second story balcony, always on the look out for activity. Whitaker saw the first APC head down the stairs and quickly swore under his breath.
“What is it sir?” asked the man next to him.
“Nothing. Just an oversight we forgot to account for. “ The APC had chewed up the stairs rather badly, and Whitaker was pretty sure that the KL-T 90 would leave the marble stairway in a pile of dust. Anybody, or anything, who came into the station would know right away that something rather large went down the stairs. Hopefully the general state of ruin and the dilapidated surroundings would camouflage it some what. Have to bring that up with the Major in the debriefing.
The last of the convoy had gone out of site down the stairs. Whitaker signaled to his men to follow and they quickly headed down the stairwell. At the bottom of the stairs, Whitaker was called back by the rear man. He found him silently peering into the dimly lit space under the bottom landing. Whitaker peered into the dark space, not seeing anything of significance. “What is it, McDougal?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but something’s not right.” McDougal was a gifted recon man, his family coming from a long line of resistance fighters, and he was raised tracking Demons through northern Belfast. Because of this he was especially good at “seeing the signs” as he called it. McDougal slowly walked forward, looking around the landing.
“Something big was here. It knelt here and, from what I can tell, was interested in the space underneath the stairs, here.” He stood pointing at the dark corner of the stairwell. Whitaker slowly walked over by his side. They both knelt down and looked under the stairway, the space being only 4’ tall at this point. To their surprise they found a small access door, which judging by the lack of dust, had been opened recently.
“McDougal, can you tell me how many Demons there were?”
“Sir, I don’t think it was a Demon.” Whitaker slowly turned and looked at McDougal. “If it wasn’t a Demon, what was it?”
“I don’t know, but whatever it was, it was a lot bigger than a Demon.” They both looked at the access hatch.
“Well, let’s see what was so interesting about this access hatch.” Whitaker crawled into the dark and pried open the hatch. He didn’t like what he found.

The Major was sitting with the commander of the last APC, waiting for Commander Whitaker to return with his squad, when Whitaker and his men came running down the ruined stairway. The Major stood, readying his C-2 Assault rifle. The APC access hatch opened and both the Major and the APC commander hurried aboard. A moment later Whitaker and his men were aboard and the APC was heading down the subway tunnel.
Whitaker saw the Major and quickly approached him, “We’ve been had, sir.”

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It was cold in what used to be the city center. The deep dark that engulfed the streets was ice cold, and eerily quiet. Captain Aaleg shivered in the cold. This was the last place he wanted to be, and was getting impatient. Greel sat next to him in the dark.
“We should not have come here.” Greel whispered.
“You know as well as I do that we didn’t have a choice.” Aaleg whispered back. The both of them continued to scan the streets.
“We won’t live through this.”
“We’d be dead already if we hadn’t agreed to it in the first place.”
“You’ll be dead soon enough.” Aaleg and Greel leapt to their feet as three klisks emerged from the shadows. They were all over fourteen feet tall, and armed to the teeth. The first klisk walked into the light that Aaleg and Greel were shining on them.
“Which one of you rats is Aaleg” he demanded. Aaleg stepped forward and pointed a finger in the large klisk’s gut.
“What took you so long? You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago.” Aaleg sneered. The klisk swiped Aaleg’s hand away.
“Just give me the information.” Aaleg waved at Greel, who carried out a small armored box and gave it to Aaleg. Aaleg turned to the klisk.
“A small unit will be landing near a city the Humans call Miami in a week. The group will consist of a couple of science experiments that our employer would like you to eliminate.”
“What about the Hunt?” The klisk asked.
“It’s been arranged to happen on the other side of the planet, you won’t see any of them anywhere near here.” Aaleg told him.
“And our payment?” this time a klisk in the back spoke up.
“Ah yes” Aaleg said, holding up the small box to the first klisk, “A little early payment from our employer.” The klisk grabbed the box out of his hand and handed it back to the two klisks behind him.
“Is there anything else?” he asked the two Conar.
“Just make sure you finish the job” Aaleg said, as he and Greel started down the street. The klisk watched them walk away. When they were finally out of sight, he returned to the other klisks standing on the other side of the street, where they had retreated to when he gave them the box. As he approached the klisk holding the box looked up at him.
“Jaal, what does this mean?” He asked, holding the box open to the approaching klisk. He reached the box and saw a large klisk hand in the box. He quietly shut it and tucked it under his arm.
“Jaal, you know they will not release our family” the other klisk said.
“Yes, Makaa, I know.” He said with a sigh.
“What are we going to do?” Makaa asked.
“We do as we have arranged. We kill the unit.” Jaal stated flatly.
“And the two Conar?” the other klisk asked. Jaal looked back toward the street where he had just seen Aaleg and Greel disappear. He turned to face his companions, nodded to them and then the three set off quietly, on a hunt of their own.


Atrius sat alone in the dark, quiet bridge. The only sound was the periodic beeping of the passive scan analysis, which he scanned briefly each time an update came in. Seventeen ships. There were five Conara ships in system when they jumped in. Not to strange for a new system like this one, which the Conara claimed a little over a year ago. Once they had gone black, Dannis had ordered everyone to see what information could be obtained that would explain what was going on. Where was Sentano? How come the unit was now under the direction of Admiral Hooblabah? Who was this new Admiral? So many questions, and after two exhausting days of looking, no answers. Just ships. The first of the newcomers arrived only 12 hours earlier, and they just kept coming. Large Cuet class destroyers, small Kluut class scout ships, even four Grand Cruisers, the personal battleships of four Admirals. The scanner beeped again. Atrius looked over the readout, and wasn’t surprised to find that three more ships had jumped in. He checked the ID signatures for each ship. Two Cuets and a Grand Cruiser. Another Admiral. He checked the signatures against the fleet database and found that all three ships belonged to their new commander, Grand Admiral Hooblabah. Atrius swung his chair around to the communications station. He punched in a code on the transmitter, and pressed the page button.
“What’s up?” Dannis asked.
“Our dearest friend Admiral Hooblabah has entered the system.”
“Is he alone?”
“Two Cuets. But who knows how many of the other ships are in allegiance to him.”
“All right, I’ll be up in a minute.” Atrius turned towards the scanner again and continued to stare at the large screen showing the bulk of the system.
Dannis came on the bridge fifteen minutes later. Atrius glanced up at him, and seeing who it was beckoned him over.
“What have you got?” asked Dannis.
“Since Hooblabah jumped in we’ve had twenty four new arrivals. That places the total ship count to forty four ships.”
“What in Osidus’ name is going on? Any more Admirals?” Atrius quickly looked over a chart that he had brought up on another screen.
“According to Fleet information, we now have 12 Grand Admirals here.” Atrius said.
“What is going on? Is the entire Conar fleet mobilizing?” Dannis asked to no one in particular.
“I think I finally figured out what’s going on.” Atrius and Dannis both turned to face Garrick, who had quietly entered the bridge without them noticing. He walked over to a computer next to Atrius and began pulling up information. Dannis and Atrius both crowded around him to see what was going on.
“I’ve narrowed it down to one of two things. First, either the entire fleet is going to war, or Second, we are witnessing a Hunt.”
“Well, I don’t think we’re going to war, we would have heard something about it from other sources,” Dannis stated, “so I think it’s got to be the Hunt.”
“This is bad news.” Atrius whispered.
“What do you mean?” asked Garrick.
“Well, the Hunt is held when there is a vacancy on the council.”
“So what makes that bad?” Dannis asked impatiently.
“Well, have you heard of any Admirals dying? They certainly don’t retire.” Atrius stated. “The only Admiral that we have heard of being ‘unavailable’ is Sentano.”
Dannis and Garrick looked at each other, and then at Atrius.
“If that is the case, and let’s hope it’s not, then we need to be very careful.” Dannis said quietly. “We can’t act up or cause any unwanted attention to come our way. Garrick, get me anything you can get your hands on that will tell us where Hooblabah stands on the qwell projects. Atrius, gather the rest of the crew.”


The three men huddled quietly behind the burned out husk that was once a truck of some kind. Luckily it was dark deep in the city center, thanks to the massive ruins of once used buildings that were still standing like silent sentinels to a bygone time. But the men weren’t paying attention to the buildings. Captain Kelly White and his two Lieutenants had followed a pair of the demons into the city. A patrol had spotted their ship landing earlier and had alerted them to their presence. It had seemed that the Demons had forgotten about the Florida peninsula after the first occupation of Miami. Or maybe they just didn’t care, but either way, they seemed to have went to other places around the globe. So when a demon ship had landed in a vacant lot a few miles from downtown Orlando, everyone took notice.
It was a small ship. A shuttle of some kind, and when Captain White saw that only two of the Monsters were on board, he quickly dispelled any thought that this was the first of a larger presence. As the two Demons left the ship and headed into the city, the Captain chose two of his best men to accompany him, and then followed them. They had stayed a good distance behind them for the first part of the journey. They were still a mile away when the Demons stopped in the middle of what used to be a major intersection in the downtown district.
“What are they doing?” asked one of the Lieutenants.
“It looks like they are looking for something” replied the Captain. He was the only one with a working set of binoculars. He watched as the two Demons looked around the intersection, and then walked over towards the burnt out remains of a corner convenience store. He watched them step through what used to be the front window of the shop and could see them as they sat, apparently waiting inside the store.
“They’re waiting for something.” He said to the others.
“Maybe they’re waiting for us? Do you think they know they’re being followed?”
“No, I don’t think they know. Well, if they do know, they‘re more worried about what they‘re here to meet than about us.”
“Should we try to get closer? It’s going to get dark soon, and then we’ll loose them.”
The Captain silently considered his options. He knew that the Major would want to know what these two were up to, but he wasn’t too eager to get closer to the damn things. He handed the binoculars to the young man on the left. “Verrucci, what do you think?”
Verrucci was a small Italian that the Major had recently brought into the Captain’s group. He had proved himself to be quite a tactician, as well as a fighter and Captain White had quickly come to trust him. The Italian surveyed the scene for a moment. “I agree sir, we need to get closer. There is a burned out truck a block from the store on our side of the street. It looks like we could get there with minimal risk of being seen. As long as we’re quiet.” The Captain looked again, and after making some mental notes on cover, he shouldered the binoculars and led the two of them towards the truck.
That was an hour ago. The two Demons had been getting restless, especially in the last ten minutes. The three men could now here them grunting to each other in some type of grotesque communication. Captain White swore to himself. It would sure be easier to figure out what was going on if they could understand anything the damn things said. He pulled out a small notepad from his pocket and started jotting down some things he did know.
First, he doubted that the Demons were aware of any presence of resistance, especially seeing as they really didn’t try too hard to stay unnoticed. Second, the uniforms they were wearing were not like anything he had seen, but they did have the same logo on the sleeve as the ship they came in, so it was safe to say they were probably stationed on a ship. That made their presence here even more suspicious. Third…
He didn’t get to the third note. At that momen Verrucci grabbed his arm so hard he had almost yelled at the man, but the look on the Italian’s face quickly erased any thought from his mind. Verrucci and the other Lieutenant were looking straight ahead, eyes wide, mouths open. They both appeared to be frozen on the spot. White slowly turned to look in the direction when he saw them. Three HUGE beings, at least 13 feet tall, and all of them were well armed. He had never seen anything like it. From what he could tell, they were silvery-grey in color, had no hair, and a small face set low on the head. And they were massive. Captain White watched in awe as one of the new monsters approached the two demons. The conversation that followed was in a different language than the two Demons had used together, but it was still incomprehensible to the Captain. He watched as the Demons produced a box to the newcomer, who gave it to his companions and continued talking. And then he heard it. At first he didn’t recognize it, but then it was there. Miami. The Demon had said Miami. It was a little different, pronounced by a mouth that had never said it before, but the more he thought about it the more he was sure. Miami. His train of thought was broken up as the two Demons gave one last look at the newcomers and then headed back in the direction they had come from, obviously heading back to the ship. The three beasts watched them walk away, and then conferred with each other, while looking at the box. Apparently they weren’t happy with what was in it, and after a brief discussion, they started off after the two Demons.
They were walking right toward the car. The Captain didn’t know what to do, and Verrucci and the Lieutenant were both still staring like deer in the headlights. At that moment, the first beast stepped up on to the curb, saw the three humans, and stopped. It looked at the Captain and his companions in a very quizzical manner, its head tilted to one side. The other two noticed their companion and came to look at what he had found. Verrucci and the Lieutenant had come to, and both were trying to cower as inconspicuously as possible into the gutter. The lead monster walked over to the three of them. It kneeled down (its head still at 8 feet) looked intently at the three humans, and then reached out and grabbed the Captain by the arm. Bracing for a crushing blow, he was surprised when the monster didn’t rip his arm off. Instead, it lifted him to its face level and looked at him eye to eye. It had black, piercing eyes. The two of them started at each other for a moment, when one of the other two monsters tapped the kneeling one on the shoulder, grunted to it, and pointed in the direction the two demons had gone. The monster put Captain White back down on the ground. It looked at the three humans, gestured them to be stay there and be quiet (at least that’s what they thought it wanted them to do), and then the three beasts headed off very quietly down the street.
Captain White and his men sat there not making a sound for fifteen minutes. Finally, the Captain got up quietly, and gestured for the others to follow him. They quickly headed down the street away from the visitors. The more they moved, the more he could gather his wits. He was glad it was dark, because his men couldn’t see that he’d lost control of his bladder when the thing had grabbed him. Little did he know that they were all thinking that same thought.

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The pain is what he felt first. His head and back throbbed like a continuous tick of a clock. His right eye hurt like hell. He tried to reach up and scratch it, but he felt the restraints over his arms and chest. He opened his left eye and looked blurredly around the room. He was in some sort of hospital room. It was dimly lit, but well kept. Everything looked like it was in good shape. He wondered where he was. There weren’t too many places left that hadn’t been leveled by the damned monsters. His thoughts were interrupted by a young man in white robes who came into his room.
“Ah, you’ve decided to wake up! This is excellent.” The man beamed a wide, bright smile.
“Wh… where am I?”
“You’re in the Orlando Memorial Hospital. My name is Dr. Jamison, and I’ve been taking care of you for the last month.”
“Month?” he asked. “I’ve been here for a month?”
“Yes, but you’ve made remarkable progress. You were a wreck when they brought you in. Didn’t know if you’d make it. But you put up an impressive fight, if I might say so.”
“Who brought me in?”
“I wasn’t here at the time, but according to the sheets here…,” Dr. Jamison flipped through some papers on his chart. “Ah yes, here it is. It was a Lt. Kranz.”
“Where there any others brought in with me?” The Dr. rifled through the charts again.
“It looks like there were a total of 8 men brought in, including you.”
“How are they doing?”
“I’m afraid to say that you are the only survivor.” The Major’s head spun like a top. He had lost at least a full squad on a stupid tank raid. Men who were willing to follow him into anything. Men who trusted him with their lives. Men who took orders and obeyed without question. Men whom he had failed.
“Why didn’t I die like the rest of them?” He said out loud.
“Because I needed you to live.” The voice from the door startled both Dr. Jamison and the Major. Standing there in a dark military uniform was a tall, chiseled man with short cropped blond hair. He approached the bed with a smile.
“Major, my name is Major Alan Klugg. I am here on behalf of an entity called Kalechnostar.”
“Kalechnostar? I’ve never heard of ‘em.” The Major replied.
“But we have heard of you.”

The small helicopter rocked back and forth from the turbulent Antarctic air. The Major was impressed with the pilot. He handled the small craft well, despite the conditions. He would have to look into getting him transferred to his command. Major Klugg was sitting across from him, smoking a large cigar. “Probably a Cuban,” the Major thought to himself. It had been three months since that day Major Klugg introduced himself at the hospital in Orlando, and the Major had been working for Kalechnostar ever since. He was given the task of forming a new Special Forces unit. He was given free reign as to who he wanted in his unit, and had spent most of the last three months finding just the right men for the job. Of course he first went to his men that survived the raid in Orlando. He knew that they had been through hell, so he wasn’t surprised when the majority decided to pass on the opportunity. A handful of them agreed, including Lt. Kranz, who since proved to be a very able second in command. Now he was heading back to the Kalechnostar headquarters, or what he thought was their headquarters.
He’d been to the facility in Antarctica once before. It was a massive structure, three hundred feet below the ice, and shielded with some special material that effectively hid the massive heat and electrical signatures the facility was sure to put off. Klugg had told him the base had been in operation for 30 years, which meant that it was here before the Demons came. He had wondered who originally built it, seeing as Kalechnostar was only in its infancy at the time. Probably the Americans. They had a fetish for top secret things, not that they were really secret. That was also a problem with the Americans, they wanted their secret bases and spy planes, but they also wanted you to know they had them. Not necessarily the way the Cuban army operated, but to each his own. He thought back to his training in the Direccion General de Tropas Especiales, the top military personnel in Cuba. He was a quick study, becoming a Major faster than anyone had for sometime.
“What are you thinking, my friend?” Klugg asked.
“Just remembering how things used to be,” the Major replied.
“Ah yes, Cuba. When were you last there?”
“Last year. I was in Havana when the Demons attacked. I was one of the lucky ones. I was on patrol out of the city.” He looked silently out the window.
“I was in Düsseldorf.” Klugg said quietly. “I got lucky too.” They rode in silence for the rest of the flight.

The pilot landed perfectly inside the large hanger. The Major thanked him for the flight in, and told him to visit him tomorrow morning for reassignment. Klugg waited patiently for him to finish up.
“Found another one I see.”
“I was impressed by his flying. I need more good pilots and I think he’ll fit in nicely.”
“Well, hopefully the rest of our business here goes just as good.” He clapped the Major on the back and they walked toward the large hall leading into the base. It was a huge hallway, more of a road than a hallway. Two large tanks could drive down it side by side. Just as they were getting into a small personnel vehicle, a Hummvee came screaming up the hallway. It skidded to a halt in front of them. A Captain thrust his head out the passenger window, “Major Klugg! You’re needed in the SIT room.” Klugg grabbed the Major and pushed him toward the still running vehicle.
“What’s the situation Preston?” he asked as the two of them climbed into the back seat.
Captain Preston turned to face them. “Sir, we have contact.” Klugg said stared straight ahead, and slowly shut the door.
“Contact? With who? What are you talking about?” The Major asked. Captain Preston looked at Major Klugg, who appeared to be weighing the matter over.
“What’s going on Klugg? What the hell is going on?” The Major was almost shouting.
Captain Preston was still looking straight at Major Klugg. Finally Klugg looked at Preston, and nodded slowly.
“Major, sir, we have some images that will explain everything,” he said to the Major. Preston then turned quickly, giving orders to the driver and the Hummvee sped off back down the corridor.

Five minutes later the two men were being herded into a large conference room with plasma screens covering almost every inch of wall space. Information was streaming over all of them except for the main screen, which showed what appeared to be a large spaceship. The Major stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the picture. He had seen that ship before. The Demons used it wipe Havana off the face of the Earth. Klugg stood silently beside him for a moment, then ushered him into one of the many chairs around the conference table. Seconds later the room filled with ten men, the collective leadership of Kalechnostar. A tall man, whom the Major had never met, stood before the group and silenced all the hurried chatter.
“Gentlemen, as you can see, we have a situation brewing. This photo was taken from a long range reconnaissance bird supposedly looking at Jupiter, but as you can see we found something else. The ship came into the system two days ago. We thought it might have been a routine transfer of some of the damned things, like we’ve seen in the past, but then we caught a break.” He pressed a button on a small hand held remote. The image shifted to reveal a wider shot, taken from what looked like behind the ship, towards Pluto. The picture showed not one ship, but five.
“Where did we get that picture?” A small man asked from the other side of the table. “I’m pretty sure that’s not from one of our birds. It looks like it was taken from Pluto, but that’s not possible. We haven’t got anything further than Mars.” The tall man running the presentation nodded, “It’s not one of our birds Professor. But you are correct, it did come from Pluto.” There was a collective gasp in the room.
“But if it’s not from us, then who the Hell took the picture? And how did we get it?” A burly man asked from next to the Professor, he appeared to be an Admiral of some sorts.
“It’s one of theirs.” The answer came from Klugg. The men in the room turned to face the large German.
“Major Klugg,” the tall man said, “I believe the floor is yours. Please fill these gentlemen in on your current operations.”
“Thank you sir.” Klugg walked to the front of the room and inserted a small diskette into the computer terminal. “Before I begin gentlemen, let me introduce you to Major Carlos Rodriguez, the leader of our newly formed special forces branch.” Klugg waved at the Major. The men around the room nodded in acknowledgement. “I apologize for the lack of introductions,” Klugg continued, “but we’re running short on time, so I’ll get to it.” He reached over to the computer terminal and grabbed the remote. As he started the presentation on the large screen the lights automatically dimmed and once again the large spaceship was on the screen.
“As we know, this came from RS-22, roughly a week ago. As we review the markings on the ship here and here,” Klugg used the infra-red laser light to point to the markings on the ship “we can deduce that this is the same ship that has been in orbit for the last three months.” He pressed a button and the image changed to the new picture that had been shown to start the meeting.
“As we have well documented, the ships usually stay in orbit for about three to four months, and then they leave the system to be replaced by another ship. This ship was, according to our estimate, scheduled to leave six days ago. Which brings us to the image we have before us.” He walked to side of the screen to let the group get a good look at the screen. “If we look closely here,” he pointed to the ship second from the right, “we can see that the ship is still here, and as far as we can tell, this image was taken two days ago.”
“So how did we get that picture?” the burly Admiral asked. Some of the men around the table murmured in agreement.
“We finally got lucky.” Klugg said, a smile spreading across his chiseled jaw. “Yesterday, a small raiding party in London ambushed one of their small patrol tanks. And they successfully captured the vehicle in working condition.” The Major couldn’t believe his ears. He had performed fifteen raids on the damned small tanks and had never even come close to capturing one fully operational. The fact was he had never really tried. Usually He had his men blow up the damn things whenever they could. He had found it easier to fight the demons if you didn’t have to worry about blowing up their tanks. It looked like He would have to change his methods; He couldn’t have the Brits showing him up.
Major Klugg continued, “The commanding officer, one Commander Donald Whitaker found this image on the computer screen when they boarded the vehicle. The computer engineers believe it was taken two days ago, although they are not exactly sure.”
“Did they find anything else?” asked the Professor. “The databanks on that vehicle are invaluable! This could be the key to cracking the demons’ codes!”
“They are working on it round the clock.” Klugg replied. “But before we get carried away, we must determine what this picture means.” Everyone in the room looked quietly up at the image. Five ships shown on the screen. Something was going on, and it didn’t look good.
“When is the next pass from one of our birds?” asked an older gentleman.
“We should be getting an image…” the professor looked down at his watch, “we should be getting an image in about ten minutes, in fact.” The men around the table stared at the images on the screen, each wondering what the satellites would show them.

Fifteen minutes later and the men were sitting speechless. The latest image from the reconnaissance bird had shocked all of them. There weren’t five ships, there were now fifteen.
“Gentlemen, this is very disturbing.” The tall man stated. “We need to know why they are here.”
“It’s pretty obvious as to why they’re here” the Admiral stated dryly. “They’ve come to finish us off. They’re tired of losing they’re little tanks, and we’ve shown them we’re pretty good at being a nuisance.” The men around the room took in what the Admiral said, some shaking their heads in agreement, some in silent thought.
“I disagree.” Everyone turned to look at the Major. “I do think they are here for a purpose, but I don’t think that it is because of us.”
“Please elaborate on your interpretation Major Rodriguez.” The tall man asked, beckoning the Major to come to the front of the room. The Major began to elaborate as he walked to the front of the room. “Our scouts have been monitoring the damn things very closely over the last two weeks. We have noticed that recently they are starting to clean things up, reorganizing their ranks, polishing their armor if you will. These actions, in conjuction with the images we have seen today, lead me to believe that what we are witnessing is some sort of Military inspection, and not an invasion. Besides, we all know that they only need one of the damned ships to finish us off, not fifteen.” The men around the room thoughtfully digested this new information. “Besides,” continued the Major, “In all of the times I have come in contact with them, I have learnt that they are not the kind to wait for backup. If they wanted to get rid of us, they would already have done so.”
“Maybe they are just biding their time. Feeling us out.” Asked the older gentleman.
“I think the Major is right” replied the Admiral. “I think he has a valid point in that they wouldn’t amass a large scale invasion force to destroy a planet that they already control, despite my earlier ideas. But I do feel that there is still a great chance that they are planning an attack on us.” Everyone began talking at once. The Tall man finally got the room back in order.
“Gentlemen, we must decide how we proceed from here.” He stated. “Major Rodriguez, seeing as you have the most field experience with them, what do you suggest we do?”
The major thought for a moment before answering. “We lay low. We don’t give them a reason to attack us. For all we know, they do not know of our existence, or at least they underestimate the size of our forces.”
“So we stay out of the way? Just sit by and wait?” The Admiral asked.
“Yes. You will sit by and wait.” The Major replied. “But we will need to continue our small raids, with some regularity. We cannot give them any idea we know what is going on.”
“Major Rodriguez, how long to assemble your team?” the Tall man asked.
“Most of my team is here, but give me three days to fill in some holes and we’ll be ready.”
“Excellent. Gentlemen, we will meet back here in three days and the Major will outline our strategy. Get to work and let’s get him some information that he can use.” As the men filed out of the room, the tall man introduced himself to the Major. “Major Rodriguez, I am Sir Reginald Brandt, it is a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine, sir,” replied the Major.
“Is there anything you need for your team?” he asked.
“Yes, I need Commander Whitaker.” Sir Brandt gave him a long smile.
“Then go get him, my boy. Go get him.”

Chapter 3

Okay, I'm posting the rest of my story here. I've also started labeling all my story posts as "The Story that shall remain nameless". If you haven't read the first two chapters, I suggest clicking on the label in the menu to the right there, and reading them before you read this. But beware, they can be pretty lenghty.

So without further ado, here's chapter 3.

Chapter 3

The tall Conar general walked quietly back towards his bunker. It was only 100 feet from the landing pad, but he knew from experience that it would be at least another 30 minutes before he could even reach the door. He was constantly being hounded by his subordinates, asking for his signature, relaying messages, briefing him on various happenings around the base during his absence. It was all rather boring. He desperately wanted to get to his quarters, shut the door and sleep. After what seemed to be days, he finally found himself standing in his quiet quarters. “28 minutes,” He said surprisingly, “That has to be some kind of record.” He walked over to his footlocker and placed his dress uniform away. He was in the process of pouring himself a drink when a soft knock on the door broke the silence. “Come in,” the general didn’t even turn to look at the visitor. He didn’t have to. He knew exactly who it was, and he knew why they were coming to visit him.

The visitor quietly shut the door behind him. The general turned to face his guest. “Ah, Tran, to what do I bestow this honor?” Tran Nortrax was a small Nareskan. The general thought Tran’s orange-yellow skin made him look sick. The fact that the Nareskan was a nervous, paranoid wreck only solidified his suspicions. “You know why I’m here, Jarro. Did you get it?” Hissed the Nareskan. The general winced at the high pitched voice. “Tran, where are your manners? I have risked my life for you and your only thought is of what you might gain?” The general didn’t care about manners, but he knew that the prolonging would drive the Nareskan mad. “I don’t give a damn about your life, Jarro. I’ve paid you very handsomely for your services. Now don’t waste my time and give me what I paid for.” The general could see that he was skating on thin ice. Although he towered over the Nareskan, he had learned that Tran Nortrax was someone you didn’t cross. “Very well. Tran Nortrax, I give you the blueprints to the Koje space station.” He pulled a large cylinder from the footlocker and handed it to the Nareskan. Nortrax swept the small table that stood in the middle of the room clean of its various items and spread the blueprints out.

The two of them spent over an hour going over the plans before the Nareskan finally rolled up the plans, placed them in their protective tubing and left the general’s quarters. Five minutes later the general was asleep. Ten minutes later, a small, dark figure crawled out from under the general’s bed and stood looking down at the sleeping Conar. Slowly, in the dark silence the figure drew a small blaster pistol from a holster, slowly and silently attached a silencer, and then shot the general twice in the head from point blank range. Putting the pistol back in its holster, the figure went to the door. He listened quietly for a few moments, and then silently opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit corridor.

Tran Nortrax stood quietly at the docking ramp of his small shuttle watching the ground crew scramble frantically to get everything ready for his departure. He watched as his small crew loaded the shuttle’s bay with various objects that he had purchased from the general. He watched intently as the ground crew refueled his ship. Despite what everyone thought of Tran Nortrax, he was completely calm and confident. He saw everything that happened to his ship. He was aware that the Captain in charge of the base’s ground crew had told his men to short change him on fuel. He was aware that even though he was here on “friendly” terms, there were five snipers placed about the base, keeping an eye on him. And he was aware of the shadowy figure that had crawled unnoticed by the Conar into one of his crates that was even now being loaded into his ship. He said nothing about the mysterious figure. He said nothing about the fuel shortage. He simply nodded to the Captain when he was told everything was ready, and then quietly walked aboard his ship, closing the ramp behind him.

Fifteen minutes later, when Tran was certain that his ship was headed on a safe course to its destination, he gathered his three personal guards, three Conar who had been with him through some very interesting circumstances and headed down to the bay. It took Tran and his guards ten minutes to uncover the crate that the shadowy figure had crawled into. “Open it, let’s get him out of there.” The order came not from Tran Nortrax, but from the Captain of his personal guards. Tran assisted the other two guards and pried the crate open. The shadowy figure tumbled out onto the floor of the bay, the guards helping him to his feet. “What is your report?” asked the Captain.
“Mission accomplished, target was terminated.”
“Collateral damage?”
“It was clean and undetected.” The mysterious figure began to take off his equipment, walking quickly toward the door. “Where are you going?” Asked the Captain, “We’re not done with the debriefing!”
“Dannis, I’ve been under a bed for three days. Can I at least go to the bathroom?” Dannis Preim smiled to himself as he watched Atrius hurry quickly out of the bay.

It had been six months since Sentano had taken the Preims off the Golden Fang. It seemed like years to the Preims. Sentano had placed them under a very strict and accelerated training program, and the results were even better than what Sentano could have hoped for. This was their third black op, and they had performed it perfectly. Dannis had emerged as the natural leader of the group. He’d always been the one everybody listened to, but more importantly in the beginning he was the only one Atrius would follow. That was different now. They were a team and they worked remarkably well together. While Dannis was the official leader, it was more a ruler by committee approach than anything, and in the Preim’s case, it wouldn’t work any other way.

They had all gathered in the small conference room on the shuttle for the official debriefing and report. They had arrived at the rendezvous point and were waiting for Sentano to contact them via a secure trans-comm link. When the screen crackled to life, it was not Sentano. A large Conar appeared on the screen. He wasn’t as big as Sentano, but he was an ugly brute. He was smiling, but it was obvious to every one that he was not happy to see the Preims.
“I am Grand Admiral Hooblabah. It is my uncomfortable duty to inform you that Grand Admiral Sentano is no longer your commander. The Council has appointed me to take his place in this project. Therefore, I give you your first order. You are to report to Planet H1E3, Galaxy 16. There you will await further orders. I expect you there in two weeks. You are dismissed.”
“But Admiral Sir, what about our report?” Dannis asked.
“I have no interest in any wild goose chase that Admiral Sentano may have had you running around on. So your report is of no consequence to me.”
“Yes sir.” Dannis responded tight lipped. Atrius could see the anger in his brother’s face. Admiral Hooblabah gave a stiff salute and then the trans-comm ended just as quickly as it had started.
“What in Osidus’s name is going on?” Asked Xar. “Where’s Sentano? And who was that?” Everyone turned to Dannis, who sat quietly in the corner. He stood after what seemed an eternity, walked to the door without looking back. “I don’t know what’s going on, but we have two weeks to find out. Xar, Shyla, set the coordinates and prepare the ship for jump, Garrick, see what you can find about this Admiral. Atrius, you come with me.” The crew quickly and quietly went to work.

It took 1 day to prep the ship for the jump to hyper-space, and then the jump itself was estimated to take 10 days, giving them 2 to 3 days to find some answers to their questions.
Garrick and Dannis spent the 10 days pouring over the computer database for anything regarding Admiral Hooblabah. Aside from having an obvious dislike towards Sentano, they could find nothing of much use about him. They would have to wait until they came out of hyper-space to make some discreet inquiries to the Conar fleet, and to some other less respected contacts that they had established during their reconnaissance work.

“Dannis, we should be coming out of hyper-space in about 15 minutes.” Shyla’s voice crackled over his com unit. “Thanks, I’m on my way to the bridge.” When he arrived, he found Garrick and Shyla hunched over the navigational display, while Xar was at the helm, in the final stages of prepping the ship for dump.
“What do we have?” Dannis asked as he joined Garrick and Shyla. “Alpha Octus is here, in the milky way galaxy, third planet from the sun. It looks like a pretty backwater place, but we could be in luck” said Garrick.
“How so?”
“Well, according to the database, this system has only been under Conar control for about a year, so we should have at least some sort of military presence here, and that means someone to ask questions.”
“How much of a presence can we expect?” Dannis asked.
“There should be 10 cruisers stationed in the system” Shyla replied, “but the details are a little sketchy. Plus this might interest you Dannis; the fleet’s being very tight-lipped about what they have here.” Shyla was right, it did interest Dannis. Something was going on here and they were flying into it blind. Not exactly the best way to make an entrance.
“Guys, we’re dumping in five minutes, I suggest you get yourselves strapped in.” Xar said from the helm. They quickly took their places. “Anybody seen Atrius?” asked Dannis.
“He’s in his quarters at the moment”, replied Garrick. “Should we tell him we’re about to dump?” Dannis couldn’t hold back his smile, “Now why would we do that?” Garrick gave a quick chuckle and turned toward the business at hand.
“Shyla, I want a quick scan the moment we get in. Garrick, start monitoring com traffic, let’s see if we can hear anything interesting. Xar, let’s go black as soon as possible.” Going black was a risky procedure. It required a ship to basically come in from hyper-space dump, get its initial quick system scan, just long enough to find some cover, and then power down to just minimal operating power. Most Conar ships didn’t use the practice, but that was because being Conar ships, they were armed to the teeth. But the Priems used the procedure quite regularly, seeing as their ship was a modified Cluut class scout frigate with little armor and far less weaponry. The risk wasn’t that going black was difficult or affected the hyper-space dump, that was all straight forward. The biggest risk was that powering down so quick, and with the minimal scan allowed to successfully go black, could leave the ship in a very compromising situation. There was no way in telling what was in the system, and no way in telling if what was in the system knew that there was something else in the system, until you found yourself staring down 5 Klisk battle cruisers demanding to board. That is if they don’t shoot first.
“Beginning dump in fifteen seconds” said Xar. The crew braced themselves in their chairs. Xar began the countdown. “Ten… nine… eight… seven… six… five… four… three… two… one.”
The hyperspace dump was a physically taxing undertaking. Not because of any massive amount of force, or the deceleration, it was space after all and there was no gravity to affect the body. But a hyperspace dump seemed to have some ill effects on the body. Various side effects were Nausea, dizziness, and headaches among other minor maladies. There were a few recorded instances of heart attacks, but that was ruled more to age and lifestyle than the dump itself. No one really knew for sure why this happened. If the Gargonan knew, they weren’t telling anyone, and the only thing the Conar cared about was that you weren’t dead after a jump.
The only cure for the effects of a dump was repetition. It seemed the more someone experienced a hyperspace dump, the more they got used to it. In this matter, the Preims were experts. They were all starting to move, trying to get everything done as soon as physically possible before the ship went black. Xar and Shyla were both starting to move around in their seats, punching in various commands at their computers. Garrick was moving too, but judging from the smell, his lunch didn’t stay down like he had planned. Dannis began to make the final adjustments necessary for shutting down the ship. “Garrick, how’s our passive scan coming?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Just getting in the finishing touches now… okay she’s all done. Shutting down all active communication equipment.” Garrick replied.
“Good. Xar, have we found a good place to park?” This was one of the tricky parts of running black. A ship can’t just jump anywhere it wants to. When hyper-space first began commercial use, there where horrible accidents almost every day as ships kept jumping into each other. To safeguard the shipping lanes and those traveling through space, the United Galactic Council established set rules for ships to follow when entering a system. While that solved the problem of ships jumping into each other, it didn’t help Dannis and the rest of the Preims. They wanted to run black, but couldn’t just stop the ship in the middle of the receiving lanes, where they had jumped to and where other ships might be jumping to. So once they got into the system, they had to quickly navigate out of the jump lanes and find some sort of hiding space, which was always a crap shoot because there really isn’t too many places to hide in space.
“I’ve got something that might work, putting in the coordinates now.” Xar replied.
“Prepare for the burst,” Dannis said. A burst was simply a burst of acceleration using the hyper-drive in a ship. Dannis had stolen the idea from some Nareskan pirates they were following on one of their first assignments. The idea was that as soon as a ship finished its dump from hyper-space, it used the little reserves the hyper-drive had accumulated, which was not much, to burst the ship away from the receiving lanes.
“Hit it Xar.” And with that the ship lurched off towards the outer rim of the galaxy.
At about this time Atrius came stumbling into the room. He didn’t take the dump as well as the others. His shirt was soaked with water and blood, which came from a very obviously broken nose.
“Thanks for the warning, brother. I was in the shower when we started the dump. Got dizzy and fell straight into the wall.”
“Thought you needed a wake up call.” Dannis deadpanned.
“Next time, try something that will keep me conscious.” Atrius replied.

Chapter 2

(Here's chapter 2. Enjoy Pablo...)

The Major was quietly watching the road. He had two small squads stationed on either side of the bridge he was on, plus a third squad up on the abandoned building next to the roadway to provide backup if they needed it. He hoped they wouldn’t, but was grimly aware that they would. They always needed it no matter how well he planned things out. His thoughts were interrupted by the comm unit squawking in his ear. He thumbed the unit on. “What have you got for me?” He asked.
“Sir, we have a single contact approaching from the south, e.t.a. in 5 minutes.”
“Is he alone?” the Major asked. The voice on the other end was silent for a moment, “Clear on all sides, sir.” The Major turned and crawled to the south side of the bridge. He grabbed his rangefinders and peered down the road through a hole in the bridge’s concrete side. Roughly three miles south of his position, a single vehicle was coming up the roadway. If he hadn’t seen one before, he would have had a hard time spotting it amid the rubble and abandoned burnt out vehicles still clogging the roads of the dead and rotting city. It was slowly picking its way down the clogged highway, which was a good thing. The Demons didn’t know he was here, and that was always good.

He remembered the first time he saw one, standing in the middle of the town square. One of the ugliest things he’d ever seen, and one of the meanest. Those who survived the initial slaughter, simply called them Demons, and the name stuck. They certainly looked like a nightmare, standing over 8 feet tall, large ugly fangs protruding from their skeletal heads, the thick armor-like dreadlocks that covered the back of the head and neck, the brownish-green mottled skin, and the deep pitch black eyes. Yes, He thought, it’s a good thing they don’t know we’re here.

He thumbed on his comm unit again, “Okay men, you know the drill, into positions, let’s keep this clean and quick.” He thumbed off his comm unit. He still didn’t trust the things. Always wary of broken lines of communication, the Major had taught his men to use the communication units sparingly, and never when the enemy was around, because you never knew who could be listening.

He heard the soft hum of the engines as the tank-like vehicle came slowly into view. It was about a mile away when it came to a stop in the middle of the road. The tank (it was officially designated as a Skeleton Light Tank but the Major didn’t know that) extended a retractable satellite dish out of the top of its small turret. The Major was fairly certain that the vehicle was scanning for any radio traffic or comm unit chatter, and hopefully his men were following orders and not using the damned things when the enemy was in sight. The antenna slowly turned, and then retracted into the turret. The tank then started off again, still going at a relatively slow pace. The Major saw that his two squads were in position, and then he crawled over to the edge of the bridge and started to arm the rocket launcher that was laying there. He hunkered down behind the concrete barrier. He couldn’t afford to take a peak now, so he just had to wait.

The tank was about 100 yards from the bridge when they attacked. Two tongues of red hot flame shot from each side of the road as the squads simultaneously fired their rockets. They hammered into the sides of the tank with a large boom. The tank shuttered to a stop. The Major had learned from his first attack on one of these tanks that while the hand held rockets his troops carried could not penetrate the tank’s armor, the treads were quite vulnerable. He had instructed his men to use this tactic, and they had used it well. The tank, while immobile, was by no means out of the fight. The Major heard the turret whir around and then heard the unmistakable sound of automatic laser fire rip into the abandoned buildings. As if on cue, the major sprang to his feet, aimed steadily at the tank that was now only 30 yards away, and fired his rocket. He had no time to see where he hit. Before the rocket had even gone 5 yards, the Major had dropped the launcher and was crawling as fast as he could towards the side of the bridge. The turret whirred around so fast that it actually riddled the bridge with laser fire before the Major’s rocket slammed into the turret. The turret kept firing, but it was apparent that the rocket had done its job and the turret couldn’t turn anymore.

The Major reached the side of the bridge and met up with one of the squads. Now that the turret was out of action, they could approach the tank and go for the kill. Grabbing his assault rifle from his second in command, he signaled to the men to advance from their positions and flank the vehicle. As he climbed out from their hidden position, he could see the squad on the other side of the road advancing as well. This was the tricky part. And this is when they usually needed the backup. The tank sat there quietly, the barrels of the turret smoking from the heat of the laser fire, the treads charred remains. The Major hoped that somehow the damned monsters had been killed by one of the rockets. His hopes were dashed with a hiss as the back of the tank opened.

Gunfire erupted almost instantaneously. The Major’s forces gave everything they had as two hulking figures leaped from the tank. Immediately the two Demons split, one going to the left and one to the right, laser fire erupting from their large rifles. The Major dove behind a small burned out hulk of a car, followed quickly by two of his men. He knew that the tank usually had a crew of three, so that meant one was probably still inside the tank calling for backup. “Do we have any more rockets?” he asked one of the men.
“Kranz has the last rocket, sir.” The Major thumbed on his comm unit, no need to keep quiet now. “Kranz, what’s your position?”
”Sir, I’m pinned down about three cars behind you.”
“Can you see into the tank?” Asked the Major.
“Not quite sir.” The Major thought for a moment, trying to play out in his head what needed to happen.
“Okay, on my order, get where you need to be to fire that last rocket into the open tank, I’ll have the men provide you cover. And Kranz, don’t miss.” The Major dialed in the open channel used by all his men.
“All right men, on my order we all converge on the tank.” He paused to glance over the car while the men gave suppressing fire from their protected hiding places. He could only see one of the Demons, crouched down behind its own cover, returning fire.
“NOW”, shouted the Major. At his order, all of the squad surged from their hiding spots, making a mad rush at the tank. The Demon stood up and started picking off the soldiers one by one, giving no heed to the large amounts of fire ricocheting off its dull black armor. “The damned thing has armor!” The Major watched in horror as the Demon systematically slaughtered his men, handling the laser rifle with amazing accuracy and speed. The Demon had killed five of the ten men who rushed him before they converged on it, piling on top of it like ants. The Demon swung his rifle like a club, crushing the skull of the man who couldn’t get out of the way. Two of the men had leapt onto the back of the monster and were trying to pry the helmet off, at least giving them a soft spot to hit. The Demon realized that this would not be a good thing, and started reaching frantically for the two men. The Major was about to join the fray when the tank exploded in a massive fireball. The Major was blinded by the white hot blast, felt himself rocket away from the explosion, then a sharp searing pain in his head and back, and then everything went black.

Chapter 1

(Here it is... the first chapter of Atrius' story. Enjoy, and sorry for the length.)

He awoke lying face down on the cold steel floor, not sure exactly where he was. It took nearly ten minutes for him to gain control of his senses, and rise to his hands and knees. Another ten minutes passed before he could see straight, his one eye trying to adjust to the dark he found himself in. His clothes were soaked in what appeared to be vomit, probably not all his, and blood. He tried to stand up, but a wave of nausea brought him quickly to his knees, and he wretched his guts out until nothing but bile dripped from his burning lips.

He sat there, looking at the floor for nearly an hour, not entirely sure that the nausea had gone. He glanced around the room, trying to remember how, and why, he was there. The room was rather small, just large enough for a small slab of steel with what appeared to be a horrible imitation of a mattress laying on top, a dirty sink with a cracked mirror, and a very used toilet, the kind you’d expect to see in a cell of some sort, which is what he determined this must be. He momentarily thought about looking in the mirror, getting a good look at himself, but the thought of throwing up again quickly changed his mind. Instead, he slowly crawled to the crude bed. It took him fifteen minutes to drag his upper body onto the steel slab. His body completely drained of energy, he could not go any further, and he fell asleep.

The sound of a closing door jostled him from his sleep. He didn’t know what time it was, or how long he had slept, but he felt much better than yesterday. At least he thought it was yesterday. His eye adjusted much faster to the dark this time, a good sign, and he noticed a small tray near the door, with some nutrient sticks and a cup of water on it. He sat up gingerly, hoping that the nausea had also gone, and much to his relief it had. He started to stand up but thought better of it, so he slid off the bed and crawled to the tray. The nutrient sticks were standard issue on Conar ships, and while they contained all the necessary vitamins and nutrients, they tasted like Klisk droppings. Not that he had ever tasted Klisk droppings, but the Conara soldiers all seemed to think the description was rather accurate. But he was used to the sticks, and realizing how hungry he really was, he quickly devoured them.

The sticks did wonders for him, and within a half-hour, he found he could get to his feet without too much trouble. After adjusting to being on his feet, it felt like he hadn’t walked for nearly a month, he shuffled over to the mirror to finally get a good look at things. His head was shaven, and on the top of his head was a fresh tattoo of what appeared to be a bar code with the seal of the Conara Fleet next to it. His face was a mass of bruises and scars, a deep black patch around his eye. He stepped back to get a good look at the rest of his body. His chest was wrapped in a surgical field bandage stained with blood and vomit. He gingerly moved his arms in a round-about motion and from the sharp pain in his side determined that he had a couple of broken ribs. He had definitely looked better.

The door quietly slid open, its gentle motors whirring in almost near silence. He looked in the mirror over his shoulder to see the silhouette of a large Conar standing in the doorway. The Conar looked him over for nearly a minute and then tossed him a bundle of clean clothes. “Atrius Preim, you’re coming with me.”

“What is HE doing here?” Captain Aaleg demanded to no one in particular. Not that any of the crew on the bridge would answer, even if they did know why Grand Admiral Sentano was on their ship. Aaleg strode over to the security officer, “Where is he now?”
“He is on the bridge, Captain.”
Aaleg turned slowly to see the Admiral standing in the open door. Captain Aaleg was considered a large Conar, standing close to nine feet tall. He had used his size many times to improve his rank and standing, intimidating any who got in his way, and destroying those who wouldn’t get out of it. But any thought he had of intimidating the Admiral went quickly out the airlock. Sentano stood a good 13 feet tall, and was easily the largest Conar Aaleg had ever seen. He understood why the Admiral seemed to have few enemies.

“Grand Admiral Sentano Sir, we are honored to have you on board. I hope…”
“Captain Aaleg, You have ten minutes to assemble all members of the Preim project in docking bay 8. Don’t keep me waiting.” And without another word the Admiral turned and strode out of the bridge. The Captain quickly pulled his first mate aside, “Greel, get the Preims in the docking bay”
“What about the grunt?” Greel hissed.
“Clean him up as fast as you can, and maybe by the luck of Osidus we’ll live through this.”
Greel watched Aaleg hurry down the corridor. “I doubt it.” He mumbled to himself, and then ran back toward the bridge.


Dannis was sitting on the floor of his room, next to his brother’s bunk. Atrius had been in the brig for a week now, and Dannis was getting worried. Not that Atrius didn’t deserve it. Dannis had told him repeatedly that the Conar were just baiting him, hoping he would give them any semblance of a reason to use excessive force, and Atrius never seemed to disappoint them, and that was making it harder for the rest of the Preims.

The door hissed open and the first mate stepped into the room. “Get on your feet Preim, you’ve got a visitor.” Dannis climbed off the floor, “What do you mean I have a visitor?” Greel didn’t seem to pay any attention to him.
“You have 5 minutes to get the rest of your… group”, Greel’s sarcasm was palpable, “up to docking bay 8. Your visitor doesn’t want to be kept waiting, so I would suggest you hurry.”
“What about Atrius?” Dannis asked as he followed Greel into the corridor.
“Oh, he’ll be there.”
“Is he okay?”
“Only if we’re lucky” Greel muttered to himself as he hurried off to the docking bay.

Dannis went back to his room, quickly got his uniform on and then thumbed on his com unit.
“Xar, Shyla, Garrick, meet in docking bay 8 in 5 minutes. Battle dress.” He looked in the mirror, made sure his uniform looked good, and then headed out the door towards the docking bays.
“What’s this all about?” Dannis turned to see Xar and Shyla coming down the corridor.
“Greel said we had a visitor. Wanted to see all the Preims.”
“Will Atrius be there?” Shyla asked. “I haven’t seen him for at least a week.”
“Greel said he’d be there, but I don’t know what condition he’ll be in.”
“He should be dead” Xar added, “Aaleg really went berserk. I’ve never seen him that mad.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a good thing Atrius is half Gargonan” said Dannis.
“He has always been hard headed” added Shyla. “Maybe Aaleg finally knocked some sense into him this time.”
“We thought that he knocked some sense into him last time” Xar added dryly. They all chuckled as they entered the trans-lift to the docking level.


Atrius had never seen this Conar before, and this intrigued him. Aaleg’s ship had a crew of 50, not including the Preims, and Atrius had met all the crew at least once, so finding someone new on board was quite a surprise.
“So… where exactly are we going?” He asked. The Conar seemed not to notice him and kept walking briskly down the corridor.
“Oh, looks like I’ve found me a talker” Atrius mumbled to himself. Before he realized what was happening, the Conar turned, grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the wall, holding him a good two feet off the ground. Atrius grabbed on to the large arm, trying to take some of the pressure off of his larynx.
“Listen rat, YOU have not found anything. So I suggest you keep your mouth shut.”
”Well…” gasped Atrius “I think I see your point.” Without another word the Conar let go of Atrius, turned sharply and continued on his way. Atrius stepped in behind him, rubbing his sore neck


Sentano looked over the files of all the members of the Preim Project. They were a diverse group, especially seeing as that they were all half-breeds. The Grand Council had diverse opinions concerning the Preims and their worth to the Conar. Some of the Admirals, like Faye, thought that they were vital assets to the fleet. Others, like Hooblabah felt they were… well… half-breeds and not worth the fleet’s time or efforts. Sentano was somewhere in the middle. He didn’t really care about them either way. That was why the Council had sent him. He didn’t have to come personally, he could have sent any one on his staff, and he was planning on doing just that, but then at the last moment, something about the group intrigued him.

He flipped back through the files. The Preims were all born and raised in a test facility ran by Admiral Faye. They were addressed by their ID numbers until they were roughly 5 years old, in which they were allowed to choose their name. Most of the members kept Preim as their surname, in reference to the name of the project they were part of. It was all rather dull, Sentano thought. He could care less about how a soldier came into the world. Just as long as he was a soldier. He came across the personal files of each member and studied them individually.

Dannis Preim was the defacto leader of the group. He was mix of Conar and Nareskan, which combination allowed him to be extremely adept at hand to hand combat. He was, for the most part, Conar, and from his looks you could not tell any different, save for he was only 6’10” tall, but that wasn’t too out of the ordinary. “Perhaps that’s why he is the leader” Sentano thought. “He looks the most normal out of the group.”

Atrius Preim was the next file. He was a mix of Gargonan and Cylonquin. “I feel sorry for this one” Sentano muttered to himself. “Being part Gargonan has to earn him a lot of points.” The Conar and Gargonan were bitter enemies, had been for millennia, and if Aaleg’s crew was anything like the rest of the Conar fleet, they would not like him at all. Sentano looked at the picture attached to the file. Atrius was roughly 6 feet tall, had pale yellowish skin, long dark hair and one large green eye. “At least he’s not green” Sentano thought. Atrius had a long list of “disciplinary actions” attached to his file. This didn’t surprise Sentano, but what did surprise him was not the amount of abuse he had taken, but how well he seemed to recover from it. Apparently the one part about him that made the Conar hate him was also the one reason he was still alive. That was very interesting indeed.

Xar Preim. Half Conar and Macaneon. Very interesting mix. The Macaneons were a small, lizard like species with 4 arms, of which Xar was blessed with. Other than the 4 arms, he looked surprisingly Conar, even staying relatively tall at 7’6”. He was another one that the crew seemed to get along with, and it stated that he spent a lot of time with Shyla Preim, and that could be why the crew liked him.

Sentano turned to look at Shyla’s records to see what the statement in Xar’s file meant. He saw the picture and immediately understood. She was a very attractive Conar female, which was a rarity, especially in the Conar fleet. Shyla was half Conar and Half Cylonquin. She looked mostly Conar, but had the smooth elfish qualities associated with the Cylonquins. Standing at 6”8”, she was rather short, but Sentano could see how the crew could overlook that fact. It was noted that she was involved with Xar. “Ah, and now we see why they like him too” Sentano added with a chuckle.

The last member of the group was the oddest of them all. Garrick Psycke was half Nareskan, half Human. He was good with computers but not a great asset at hand to hand combat, especially against larger opponents, like a Conar. He was the most independent and aloof of the group, not keeping the Preim surname when he chose his name. Interestingly enough, there was not much else about him in the file. Sentano thought that was rather odd and would have to inquire about that with the good captain Aaleg.

A shuffle at the door brought Sentano out of his contemplation. He looked up to see one of his guards enter the bay followed by whom he assumed to be Atrius. He was in bad shape. The guard led him over to the Admiral.
“Sir, I have brought you Atrius Preim as you requested.”
“Excellent. You may return to your station”. The guard quickly turned and headed back on board Sentano’s shuttle. Sentano stared down at Atrius, who came roughly to his waist.
“So you are the infamous Atrius Preim. I cannot say it is an honor to meet you.”
“Well, give it time. I find most people are honored by my presence” replied Atrius dryly.
Sentano looked at him thoughtfully before answering.
“You have no fear, I’ll give you that, but your attempt at humor is somewhat lacking”.
Atrius stood looking at the massive Conar, wondering what he could want and more importantly, who he was.
“You seem to know me, but I’m afraid I don’t know you.”
“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough. Now, if you would kindly wait for the rest of your group, we can get down to business.” Atrius knew that the Conar was commanding him to stand at attention and get out of his way. Atrius did as he told, and found it quite interesting. If Aaleg would have given him that command, there would have been no way that he would have obeyed. Mostly out of principle. But there was something about this Conar that was different than any Conar he had ever met. For some reason Atrius respected him. Even felt willing to follow orders from him.
“Come on now Preim” Atrius said to himself “Don’t get soft on me know.” And with that he did something that Atrius Preim had not done for a very long time. He followed an order.

When the rest of the Preims arrived, the admiral dismissed Aaleg and his officers, who were more than happy to get as far away from the admiral as possible. When the group was alone, Sentano turned quickly to the group.

“I am Grand Admiral Sentano. You are now under my… supervision. We will be leaving the ship in 15 minutes, I suggest you retrieve your necessary items and meet back here as quickly as possible. The shuttle will not wait. So either you make it, or you can try Captain Aaleg’s hospitality. You are dismissed.”

Atrius watched the other Preims run out of the bay. He had nothing on board that he wanted to keep, and a few things that he wanted to forget. He quietly walked over to the Admiral’s ship, walked passed the guards, and went up the ramp.



Aaleg quietly watched the Admiral’s shuttle leave the docking bay. He said nothing to the bridge officers who reported on the ship’s systems, or paid any attention to the various statements of readiness being shouted out by the communications officer. When Sentano’s shuttle joined up with his fleet, Aaleg walked quietly into his quarters, and watched the fleet make its jump into hyperspace. He stared at the view screen for a moment, as if to make some silent decision, then with a nod of his head, he walked over to his personal computer, entered in his security password, and punched up a secure channel to the space station he was orbiting around. A communications officer appeared on the screen.
“This is Captain Aaleg, of the Golden Fang, I request a secure transcom link.”
“Yes sir.” Stated the comm officer. “What is the link’s destination?”
Aaleg reeled off the information by heart, “Alpha Quadrant, 45892 Delta, Call Sign ‘Clean Slate’”.
“The link will be active pending identity verification. Please transmit your security package now.” Aaleg entered in the necessary information and sent his electronic identification papers to the station. The comm officer verified his identity, entered in some information in his computer, and then turned to the captain, “Verification complete, transferring the signal to you now.” Aaleg watched the screen flicker black, and then the communications officer was replaced by a surly looking conar.
“You’re Excellency,” Aaleg said with a firm salute. “I am reporting as ordered concerning the package that was left in my care.”
“Has he picked them up?” Asked the conar.
“His fleet has just left the system.” Aeleg answered.
“Very good. You have your orders. Keep me informed.”
“Yes your Excellency.” Aaleg saluted the conar, closed the transcom link, and quickly went back to the bridge. He quickly strode in and sat in his command chair. “Helmsman, bring us to the far end of the system, prepare all systems for hyperspace.” As the bridge sprang into action, Greel walked quietly over to the Captain. “What are our orders?” he asked.
“We are to proceed as we discussed.”
“Shall I plot our destination, then?” asked Greel. Aaleg thought for a moment, and then silently nodded. Greel immediately walked over to the Navigation officer. “Set us a course for…” his voiced trailed off as he searched through various star charts and galaxies. “Set a course… here.” The Navigation officer looked at their destination, started entering the coordinates and necessary information, all the while wondering what Aaleg needed on a little backwater planet called “Earth”.