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Bob's Misguided attempt to write stuff; LEAVE FEEDBACK FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!
Topic Started: Jun 22 2006, 02:12 AM (1,795 Views)
Bob 121
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Um... yeah. I deleted this earlier post cause it was a mistake so here's the filler! YAY! :banana:
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Bob 121
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Here's Chapter 6, might not have a new chapter for a while. :-:
And also, if you want me to write more/faster it'd go a long way by telling me what you think cause otherwise I just assume nobody but Specialist is reading them. (Thnx Specialist! :thumbsup: )

Chapter 7

Our Great Confederacy must not only focus on defending itself
but also on maintaining justice and honor to it’s citizen and defenders.
The Confederacy has and will always uphold these values unconditionally.
-Regis Arden upon his appointment as High Chancellor (3740 P.C.)


Lier had spent the following week interviewing all manner of people who had been serving with the sixth Task Force during the battle and had discovered rather quickly that, true to the Councilors' warnings, Etton was held in high regard by the vast majority of the troops. Even those who were under the command of General Typhus grudgingly admitted that Etton was an excellent officer.

Both Lier and Barret sat in a small room the size of a broom closet that they had been given for the purpose interviewing with a young bridge officer. The room was stifling, as though someone had deliberately shut off the air scrubbers and circulators in an effort drive the Judicator away.

The man being interviewed was a 1st Navigation lieutenant Nolan Tersel; he had served in Etton’s navigation officer aboard the MCC Ducis, which had been Etton’s command crawler before it’s destruction by the two Aprion ambush parties. The lieutenant, a pale, scrawny looking man who looked to be about fifty had been animatedly recounting the exact same story that Lier and Barret had heard for the sixth time that morning without so much as an inkling as to either men’s boredom. “As I attempted to move the Ducis out of the firing zone the emergency klaxons sounded and there was a huge rumble throughout the crawler. The general gave us the order to abandon the Ducis, which we did. I made it back to the rear lines shortly thereafter and proceeded with the rest of the task force after the engagement.”

Lier un-mashed his hands from his forehead and looked at the man for a second, making sure he was done speaking before snatching up the PDA, just in case Tersel changed his mind and began talking about some forgotten detail. “Well, thank you for your cooperation with this investigation. The Judicariate appreciates it.”

Tersel, apparently oblivious to Lier’s sarcasm just smiled and nodded. “Of course, the pleasure was all mine.”

You’re damn right it was. Lier nodded back and watched the man leave the room before letting out a deep yawn and announcing, not to anyone in particular. “You know, I don’t know how much longer I can hear the same story over and over again. At this rate I’ll be here till’ the war’s over. He looked over at Barret who, at first glance, seemed to be studying a report intently, after further investigation however, Lier discovered that Barret was asleep, his hands holding his head up to give the illusion that he had been reading. Lier slapped him awake.

“What the Hell!”

“Wake up Draylan. He’s gone.”

Barret got up and stretched his arms. “Who’d we got next?”

“Another bridge officer from the Ducis… a Belkea, Irin, 2nd navigation lieutenant…”

Barret’s face turned to one of mock horror. “No.”

Lier looked at the file again. “Yes.”

“Are you kidding me? We just talked the first navigation officer and now we have to talk to the second?”

Lier nodded. “This is ridiculous. We aren’t getting anywhere with this.” He got up and gathered the notepad he’d been writing on and picked up his PDA, heading towards the exit.

Barret moved after him into the hallway. “Um, quick question. Where are you going?”

“I’m going to find Etton. I need to talk to people who actually know what happened here. People who had to carry out Etton’s orders on the front.”

“Ames, don’t you think that Etton is a little busy right now? How about asking Brize?”

Lier stopped and looked at Barret. “After that little out spurt? She wouldn’t help us at all. We need to talk to Etton if we plan on getting anything done around here.”

“Ok chief. Your call.”

“Damn right it is. Just wait, I’ll get the clearance no problem.”
Lier and Barret made their way to the command deck and, after a short squabble with the two guards stationed outside the entrance and a weapons check, they were allowed access.

They entered through the sliding blast doors to find a bustling hive of activity; there were dozens of officers at their posts and the room was filled with a cacophony of noise. Etton stood over a woman who was sitting at a console to the left stabbing away rapidly at a keyboard. He looked somewhat worried and from his disheveled appearance; Lier guessed that the man hadn’t slept well in a while. Hope he isn’t like that because of me.

Lier took a few tentative steps towards the General but was immediately intercepted by Typhus. “Why Judicator! This is a restricted area you know. How did you even get by the guards?”

Lier tried his hardest to keep his annoyance from showing. “I told them that they needed to let me pass, that it was an emergency, and that any one of them who barred me entrance would be charged with hindering an official investigation.”

Typhus cocked his head slightly and watched Lier with a look of condescending amusement. “Well, Judicator. You may be unfamiliar with military regulations but an unauthorized guardsman, not to mention a civilian, can’t just barge into a vital command center like this without clearance.”

Lier affixed the man with a cold stare. “Well, that may be general. But I’m sure that I can come up with the clearance given time. Of course, I would have to report that you were less than cooperative with my investigation and wasted much of my time. I’m sure that neither of us would want that.”

Typhus simply nodded indifferently, “Of course Judicator. I was simply saying that we have certain rules and restrictions here and that it would be in your best interest to obey them.” Lier began to feel slightly uncomfortable seeing the grin on Typhus’s face that seemed to dare Lier to do otherwise.

It was at that moment that Etton strode up, his brow creased as though he’d already figured out what the two men were talking about. “Judicator Lier, Specialist Barret, to what do I owe this visit?”

“General. There’s something I need for my investigation.”

“Such as?”

“I need clearance to talk to some of the people who actually fought during your engagement with the Aprion task force.”

Etton’s face took on a hint of irritation. “We all fought, Judicator.”

“Yes, but I need to talk to someone who had front line experience… for a full scope of the incident.”

Etton looked at Lier with an appraising stare before looking at Typhus. “No.”

It took Lier a few seconds to comprehend the General’s answer. Whatever he’d been expecting Etton to say, it hadn’t been that. “No?”

“No, Judicator. You don’t have clearance. You entered a restricted area without general Typhus’s or my permission and then you proceeded to make demands. I’m sorry but that behavior won’t work on my command. You will have full access to the personnel of this station and only this station. Do we have an understanding?”

Lier found it hard to keep Etton’s stare but he forced himself to keep his head up. Don’t show him that he’s won. “Of course.” With that, Lier and Barret left the command deck.

Lier and Barret watched in silence as Irin Belkea left the interview room with unadulterated relief. Lier was scrawling a few final notes onto a sheet of paper and Barret sat in the corner biting his nails. They sat there for about five minutes until Lier spoke up. “What the hell am I doing here? Why did they give me this bullshit assignment?”

Barret looked up at Lier and a sly grin spread on his face. “Well, someone has to do it. Might as well be you right?”

Lier shot a venomous glare at Barret, causing him to cease his laugher. “I wouldn’t be cracking jokes here Draylan. You’re going to be stuck here right along with me unless we get this thing done.”

There was silence for another minute as the Judicator’s words sank in and Lier put his head on the table. Barret looked up at the ceiling as though about to scream at some sadistic god before his face began to shape a mischievous grin. “Lier, I think I’ve got a solution to our problem.”

Lier’s head popped up and Barret could swear he saw a faint glimmer of hope in the man’s eyes, which was promptly extinguished by Barret’s next few words. “We can get out through the ducts.”

Lier’s face was a fluctuating mixture of surprise, disbelief, and curiosity, all of which battled for control of his facial features as Lier’s mind struggled to decide whether or not Barret was serious. “The ducts? Are you insane?”

“No, listen to me Ames. If we go through the ducts we can get out without them ever knowing. The Confederate military generally has minimal security in most of their substructures so the chances of us being detected would be slim. Of course, we’d have to do it at night when there’s less of a chance of anyone knowing of our absence but that’s all the better because we’d have more cover on the outside.”

Disbelief won. “And assuming we reach the outside, what happens then? We wake up people and start asking them questions in the middle of the night?”

“Well, no. But we can try to find out what they’re so interested in out here. I mean, maybe if we find out then Etton will be more willing to negotiate with you. We won’t get anywhere doing this.”

Lier though about it for a minute and although Barret’s idea was utter insanity he had to admit that he had some valid points. “How do you know that the minute we break into the vent we won’t trigger some sort of alarm?”

Barret shrugged. “To be honest, we don’t. But for what it’s worth that’d be really unlikely. These older MCC’s are infamous for lack of sufficient internal security.”

Lier sat there, thinking of the implications that Draylan’s suggestions would have on his investigation, his career, the Judicariate, and even his personal safety. If they were caught then both Barret and himself could be sentenced to a military prison for life, or worse, summary execution, and he didn’t find either of those possibilities to be very pleasant. But then again, being stuck here for a year and a half doesn’t seem too appealing either. “Alright, what are we doing?”
“Well, first off, we’re going to have to do this in one of our rooms. That way there’s less of a chance of someone coming in here to get something and finding the duct cover all messed up.”

“You know how much trouble we can get into for this right?”

“Of course, but what other choice do we have?”

Lier frowned. “Alright. Get ready, I’ll meet you in your room in five.”

“Alright, see you there.”

Lier went to his room and quickly took stock of what he might need. He grabbed his grey overcoat; the wintry Clarion nights would prove to be deadly without it. The PDA was left behind due to its frail tendencies and Lier passed by many of his other tools; this task would be hard enough without having to worry about the myriad gadgets he would have normally brought. He took stock of what he had decided to bring and double checked that his PDA’s thermal masking program was active, sending a misleading signal to the Imperator’s internal sensors should anyone decide to check on him.

Within five minutes he was in Barret’s room, stooping over a foot-in-a-half by foot-in-a-half vent seriously questioning the intelligence behind Barret’s increasingly absurd plan. Barret removed the cover and set it aside, carefully setting the screws next to it. Barret brushed a little bit of rust that had come off from the cover onto his hands and sighed. “Alright, we’re in business. We’ve got about six more hours before sunrise. Plenty of time to get in and get out before anyone knows we’re gone.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? You’re going in first.”

“Why do I have to go?”

“Because it’s your plan, now go!”

Lier watched Barret enter the duct and then slowly entered after him. When he was about five meters into the duct a thought sprang into his mind. “You do know the way out of here right?”

He heard no reply except for the muffled clanging of metal.


Gerrald Typhus stood alone in the center of the command deck, hands clasped together behind his back in an attempt to produce a more imposing facade. To be honest, he found himself very uncomfortable with the present situation. When he had first found that he had been assigned to the protection of a possible LosTech cache he had jumped at the opportunity; with such a mark on his career he would be able to ascend swiftly into the highest ranks of the military, perhaps even make Lord Marshall. At the time it had seemed all too easy: take a task force and secure the location of the site. It was only after that Typhus had discovered that another general – Nicholas Etton – the man who had led the task force that had originally discovered the site, would accompany him as well as the remnant of his original task force. This would lead to complications as well as less prestige for his reputation. Etton was a weakness, a failure, a hindrance to his well-laid plans that Typhus could not afford to deal with if the objective turned out to be as important as Command thought.

As though Etton hadn’t been enough, the Judicator had arrived shortly after, complicating matters further. The involvement of the Judicariate had come as an unwelcome surprise and although the man had shown now indication of suspicion towards Typhus he was sure that the Judicator knew there was more going on under the surface.

Typhus knew that Etton was the Judicator’s target and if he played his hand right he could turn two problems into one solution. He had bided his time, hoping that the Judicator would arrest Etton, leaving him in command of the task force. However, things had not turned out that way; after a week’s time the Judicator still had not found Etton guilty of any charge and Typhus’s hopes of an easy solution had withered.

As if that wasn’t enough, Typhus also had to consider the very subordinates that were supposed to be serving under him. Although the Confederate military was supposed to perform as a single coordinated unit human nature often prevented that from happening, regardless of how much training and indoctrination the human mind underwent; loyalty was always a factor. Typhus had no doubt that those who had served under Etton were at best uncomfortable reporting to a new C.O. and at worst were downright suspicious of him. In fact, much of the Imperator’s bridge crew had originally served on the Ducis - the Mobile Command Crawler that had been destroyed when Etton’s task force had encountered Republic forces – seemed to be reluctant to divulge any information to him, instead consulting Etton when he was available and withholding it in the event that he wasn’t. That had eventually led to Typhus’s decision to bring some of his own bridge crew to man various stations of the Imperator.

Typhus turned as one of those men, lieutenant Herth, approached. He addressed Herth with slight annoyance. “What is it?”

“Sir, I received a diagnostics report from the internal sensors. They picked up an anomaly in their sweeps that I though you might want to know about.”

“Why would I care about a few rats running around the inside of an MCC? There’s plenty of explanations for internal sensor anomalies; it’s the ones on the outside that you want to worry about.”

The man stiffened visibly and averted his eyes slightly, as though somewhat reluctant to continue speaking for fear of bringing Typhus’s anger upon him. “The thing is sir, the sensors are picking up multiple large life signs that are moving through the ventilation systems.”

“Large?”

“Yes sir, they seem to be moving towards the Imperator’s exterior through the ducts.”

“How many are there?”

Herth had become somewhat flustered and began to show signs of uncertainty and Typhus realized that he would need to ease up with his questioning soon or reassure the crewman that he had done a good job. “You did good, lieutenant. Now, can you tell me where they’re headed?”

“I don’t know, let me check.”

Typhus followed the lieutenant back to his station and leaned over the console intently at the displayed data. “So they’re going to the external vents? Why?”

Herth tapped a key and the screen magnified to a higher resolution, revealing two signals that were moving towards the exterior hull of the Imperator.

Typhus stared at the image for a moment before speaking. “We don’t have any maintenance crews that are authorized in that area, do we?”
“No sir. In fact, those areas are normally restricted, even to maintenance crews and technicians.”

“Well then, who the hell is in there?”

“The sensors have been tracking them for quite some time now and although I couldn’t get an exact location I did manage to find the approximate area the signals originated from.”

“Show me.”

Herth tapped a few commands into the console and the screen was replaced with a larger image of the outline of the Imperator as well as the myriad multi-colored pathways representing the different integrated systems. He pointed towards a highlighted portion of the display. “That’s where they were first detected.”

A faint predatory smile found it’s way onto the general’s face and he lowered his voice to a lower, more conspiratorial tone. “Has anyone else been informed of this?”

The lieutenant’s face betrayed his confusion and slight discomfort as he answered. “Well, no. You’re the first to know. I’m the only officer on sensor duty right now.”

“Do not inform anyone else about this and after you’ve finished your station I want the data to be to be cleared. Understand?”

The lieutenant nodded somewhat reluctantly. “Yes sir.”

“Good. Now I want you to track them.” I want to see if our Judicariate friend is really headed where I think he’s headed.

Barret stumbled through the ventilation system for about half an hour before he finally found an external outlet after several occurrences of both Lier and himself getting stuck in the close quarters and dealing with the sometimes blistering hot surfaces of the vents themselves. The external vent opened to a larger compartment along the side of the Imperator that was perhaps ten to thirty feet high off the ground. It was at that point that he discovered a problem: while the internal duct lid had been removed with little difficulty the external vent would require much more effort. There were no real means of removing the vent and he could find no visible screws.

Barret scratched his forehead and looked back at Lier. “I don’t know how we’re going to get through this. I can’t see how we could get it off.”

Lier ran a hand through his hair. “Well, we better think of something cause I sure as hell didn’t crawl through that oven for nothing. How about taking a grenade or something to it or shooting it out?”

Barret’s eyes opened wide with shock at Lier’s suggestion. “Do you know what a grenade would do in an enclosed space like this?”

Lier thought about it for a few seconds before replying. “Ok, that wouldn’t be very smart but do you have any better ideas?”

Barret moved to the side of the compartment and peered at the metal surface closely, running his had lightly over its surface as though testing for some invisible object that might be concealed there. Lier watched Barret curiously for a moment before walking over; trying to see what Barret could be looking for. “Draylan, what the hell are you doing?”

Barret kept staring at the wall, brushing Lier’s question off with a wave. “Sometimes these ventilation systems have controls. You know, for the maintenance crews.”

Lier opened his mouth but whatever he was about to say was drowned out by the sudden shriek of metal scratching against metal as the external vent began to slowly open, bringing with it a rush of cool air and snow.

Lier nodded at Barret, impressed. “Very nice.”

Barret wore a smug grin on his face as he untied a length of cord that he’d been carrying around his shoulder. “I told you I’m amazing,” he tossed Lier an end of rope, “Now go tie this to something and hope that nobody heard us.”

Lier caught the rope and looked at it as though it were a coiled serpent ready to strike. “You want to climb down this? Are you crazy? This rope is like string.”

“It’s nalex fiber, very strong, very durable. You could saw away at that rope all day and it’d barely make a scratch.”

Lier looked at the rope for a minute before shrugging and tying it to the edge of a nearby compressor. “Ok, it’s done.”

Barret took the rope, tugged experimentally a few times and then disappeared over the edge of the vent, rappelling down the side of the crawler. Lier watched Barret’s progress with slight concern; it had been a long time since he had ever climbed and he didn’t exactly feel like relearning how to now. Barret had just reached the bottom, shaking the on the rope lightly to let Lier know he had gotten down. Well, here goes nothing.

Lier took the rope, and then slowly eased himself over the precipice, praying that he wouldn’t fall to his death. He started out slowly but after the second kick his foot slipped on an icy patch of metal and hit his side on the Imperator’s hull as the rope brought him back, almost causing him to lose his grip. Lier bounced against the metal hull for a couple more times before managing to right himself and begin descending again. He was roughly twenty feet from Barret.

Barret looked up at the jingling rope worriedly; the storm outside had intensified rapidly and he couldn’t see more than a couple feet in any direction. Then he heard a curse followed by the sound of something banging against metal prompting him to shout out in alarm. “Ames! Are you alright?”

He only heard more cursing and several more crashing noises until Lier finally appeared through the snowy haze. He held his breath as Lier cautiously made his way down the remaining stretch of rope and finally got off of it, looking slightly shaky.

Lier looked at Barret for a second, his facial features partially masked by the snow and his white snowcap. “I’m never doing that again.”

Barret couldn’t help but laugh, prompting yet another angry stare from Lier. “Ames, you did good,” from the Judicator’s expression Barret could tell that he was still shaken and angry. “No really, listen. You did better than I did the first time.”

Some of the anger on Lier’s partially hidden face lessened slightly. “Really?”

Barret laughed and patted Lier on the back. “No, not really but you still did ok.”

The anger on Lier’s face returned and he began walking away but Barret simply ignored it and followed. “Ok, so what’s the plan?”

Lier ran under a mammoth Thornwood tree and produced a crudely drawn map from his overcoat pocket showing it to Barret. “Ok, from what I could glean from my visits to the command deck I saw that the cave entrance to the supposed cache is to the north, away from the main empcampment.”

Barret looked at the map with slight amusement. “You draw that yourself?”

Lier glowered at Barret. “Shut up, that’s not what’s important. Now, the area around the cave is forested and the storm will help us by reducing visibility. We shouldn’t have much trouble getting in undetected.”

“What happens if we need to get outta here fast? A person can get lost pretty quickly in a storm like this.”

Lier looked up at Barret triumphantly. “We can mark the trees we pass with a boulder or a piece of ice.” Lier looked around for a few seconds before picking up a jagged chunk of ice that had formed under the treads of the Imperator, brandishing it at Barret. “Like this.”

Barret looked at the map and then at the forest before nodding, tone suddenly serious. “Not a bad plan. But, if we do reach the entrance and we do find something big how are you planning on dealing with security? There’s bound to be guards around and they’ll probably have thermal-detection equipment.”

A wide grin spread across Lier’s face. “Well, we’ll just have to deal with that when we get to it, won’t we?”

Barret looked at Lier with a worried expression. “Wow. That sounded a lot like something I would have said… you’re starting to worry me Ames.”

Lier said nothing as he began to jog deeper into the forest with Barret not far behind and it wasn’t long at all before the only evidence that the two had ever been there was a swaying black rope and rapidly disappearing footprints.
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Lachryma
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The Czarina
I read the prologue and a little bit of the first chapter...it was pretty good, but this isn't really my type of sci-fi. Still, keep working on it and all that...it's really impressive how much you've written! Keep up the good work!
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Bob 121
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Lachryma
Apr 1 2007, 11:41 AM
I read the prologue and a little bit of the first chapter...it was pretty good, but this isn't really my type of sci-fi. Still, keep working on it and all that...it's really impressive how much you've written! Keep up the good work!

Which type of sci-fi do you like? Cause the whole thing is going to take a much more militaristic genre in the next few chapters and you can expect a lot more action too. I know that the beginning is kinda dry and I'm actually thinking of going back and adding a whole new chapter 1 and bumping the originals all back by one so as to 'entice the reader from the get-go' if that makes any sense.


THANK YOU FOR READING IT!
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Lachryma
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I...don't know what kind of sci-fi I like. It's very strange.

Anyway, enticing the reader from the start is a good strategy. I think the worst beginning line of a book is said to be some sci-fi along the lines of "Slagwa grabbed his lethal Kzzztiba and charged out of the lkioti..."

Yours is nowhere near that bad, but still...
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Bob 121
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Apr 1 2007, 10:27 PM
I...don't know what kind of sci-fi I like. It's very strange.

Anyway, enticing the reader from the start is a good strategy. I think the worst beginning line of a book is said to be some sci-fi along the lines of "Slagwa grabbed his lethal Kzzztiba and charged out of the lkioti..."

Yours is nowhere near that bad, but still...

A book actually started like that?! Wow. I think I stated this somewhere but I'm planning on going back and making a new chapter 1 and then moving the current chapter 1 to chapter 2 and so on cause a lot of people have said that the beginnning is dry. Still, thanks for the feedback. :clap:
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Lachryma
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Apparently. Someone was telling me about the 100 worst first lines of books or something.

Anyway, rewrite the first part and maybe I'll be tempted to actually read the whole thing.... ;)
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PathToTheDusk
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The story is Excellent Bob, I hope you'll start writing Chapter seven soon. As for the beginning alot of beginnings aren't all that great cuz it's mostly explaining things and introducing characters and stuff. But once you start reading on it gets better, so if you wanna change the beginning that's fine so long as it doesn't delay the arrival of the next chapter ;)


Keep up the excellent work Bob you have the writer's Gift, use it well.
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Bob 121
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Thanks, but as I said before. I may not start writing seven until a while. ACT's and stuff. :wallbash:
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Specialist290
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Ouch :dead: I have an ACT coming up myself, I think, and I just took the SAT a few weeks back...
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PathToTheDusk
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Then i'll just have to be patient then......not my strongest suit but i'll manage.
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Bob 121
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Don't worry General. I'll write as often as possible. :thumbsup:
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Bob 121
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Hey guys, sorry I've not posted anything new for a while but I'm halfway done with the next chapter and even closer to finishing the new first chapter but I wanted to share that I've gone to DeviantArt and I'll be putting my stuff there in addition to posting it here so if you guys can try to comment on it on that site I'd really appreciate it. (Some kinda seniority thing that'll attract more readers or something)
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Specialist290
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Registered and added a comment.
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Bob 121
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Thanks specialist, I appreciate it. It's a real pain getting to know how to use the site at times.
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Specialist290
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No kiddin'--when I was submitting my first drawing there, I came to the Prints screen, and at first I thought I had submitted my pic wrong :p Their system isn't exactly very user-friendly, you might say...
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Bob 121
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I guess that you have to just edit the text when submitting following chapters which is kinda odd. Yeah, do you know how to add friends in it? Cause if you do just add me and if not I'll just have to figure it out and add you myself.
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Specialist290
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Well, from what I was able to figure out, you can't really add friends, but you can "watch" other people's pages.

Also, this discussion really should go in the thread I created in the Links section...
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Bob 121
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Yeah, it probably should.
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Bob 121
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Ok, I pulled a little bit of a George Lucas here and started the beginning after putting out the middle of the story so I apologize. Here's the actual first chapter and a second (and possibly third) will be out soon. The original chapter one will be pushed back depending on how many more beginning chapters I end up writing. Sorry for the inconvenience. :blush:

Chapter 1

‘The cost of the Aprion-Erebian War so far is immense;
second only in damage and loss of life to the Great Conflict,
it has raged for centuries, claiming an untold number of lives
and shows no sign of stopping.
-Excerpt from Erebian historical text


196.3745 P.C. (4 months prior)

Klaxons blared and warning strobes flashed, filling the entire command deck of the Mobile Command Crawler Ducis with an ear-shattering noise and bathing it in a blanket of crimson. Adjutants ran from station to station, comm. chatter filled the air, mingling with the klaxons’ noise in a cacophony of confusion and through it all one man stood silently observing. He was General Nicholas Etton: Commander of Task Force C-23.4, an expeditionary force in the Erebian Confederate Military. His force had fallen into a trap, his men were dying and there was little he could do.

Etton turned as Warrant Officer Granek, approached at a jog and produced a datapad. He handed the device to Etton and wiped his brow with his sleeve, breathing heavily. “Sir. Report from the remote sensor station; a second force is approaching from the south.”

Etton stared at the text, temporarily at a loss for words.

Granek studied Etton with a mixture of uncertainty and apprehension. “Sir?”

Etton turning back to Granek and handed him the datapad. “Are you sure this information is accurate? You’re sure the sensors aren’t picking up any ghosts in the storm?”

Granek shook his head. “No sir. They ran the sweep multiple times. The sensors picked them up five minutes ago but it seems that the second force is being masked by the storm, we’re lucky we got this much of an early warning.”

Etton nodded, contemplating his suddenly limited options. “Circulate this throughout the task force. Tell them to keep up their scans and to notify me if they pick up anything else.”
“Yes sir.” Granek saluted and left the command deck running.

Etton felt an uneasy chill run up his spine as he watched the Warrant Officer leave. Although he felt inclined to a moment’s indecision he knew that to hesitate would bring doom to the entire task force. There was no other choice: act or be destroyed. He stepped down to the main control console floor to one of the P.A. consoles and spoke as loud and as calmly as possible over the screeching of the klaxons. “Attention to all hands, this is General Etton. I have just received word that an enemy force has flanked us. Be advised that due to our current situation it may be necessary to evacuate the Ducis should the fighting reach us. At this time all non-essential personnel acquire the proper weather gear and weapons in the event of an evacuation.” Etton put down the comm. and looked about the room at the numerous shocked faces of the officers he’d come to know in the past months.

It was then that Etton heard the familiar voice of Lieutenant Brize from somewhere behind him. “You heard the general. He said all non-essential personnel. What are you waiting for? There’s a war on; get back to work!”

Etton turned and saw Brize walking towards him, her face set in a grim smile. “Sir, It’s really bad out there, isn’t it?” Brize’s tone told the general that she already knew the answer.

“Most of our forces are deployed along the ridge and they’re just barely holding off the enemy. The force that the scanners picked up is larger and headed right towards us through the south end of the valley. We have almost no presence to our rear and if the Aprion force breaks through what forces we do have deployed to our flank then the entire task force will break. It’ll be a rout.”

Brize nodded and looked downwards. “What should we do, sir?”

Etton stared out the viewport at the flashes of the distant fighting between the main elements of Task Force C-23.4. “We need to attempt a full withdrawal.”

Brize’s face screwed up in a mixture of confusion and disbelief. “Disengage? But we don’t have anywhere to disengage to. And in this storm…”

“I realize that our chances out in this storm are bad but the if we stay here we will all die. Hopefully we’ll be able to lose the enemy forces in the blizzard and find a temporary haven.”

Brize looked unconvinced but said nothing. Etton moved towards a long-range comm. console and leaned over the officer manning it. “Open a wide-band transmission to all units, Priority Alpha.”
The man tapped a few keys and turned to Etton. “You’re broadcasting, sir.”

“To all units, this is General Etton. I am ordering a full withdrawal from this area immediately to the following coordinates: 034-87-12. It is recommended that all units utilize staggered retreat formations. It is likely that the Ducis may be out of action; if the senior officers do not make it to the rendezvous your orders are to return to confederate territory and report Aprion activity in this area. That is all.” Etton nodded at the comm. officer. “Repeat that message once more in case anyone missed it, and what’s the status on the-”

A distressed voice came over the comm. amid a wash of static, cutting off the general before he could finish. “This is Colonel Venseri, 3rd Tresid Infantry Battalion. We are taking heavy fire. I doubt the flank will hold much longer unless the gods send us a miracle. Be advised Ducis, you’re gonna have company very soon unless we get some relief.”

Etton turned to Brize, his jaw set in a grimace. “What was the 3rd Tresid’s last position?”

“They’re serving as the far southwest portion of our rearguard, sir.”

“That’s where the enemy force was headed.” Etton leaned back over to the comm. officer. “Open a channel. I want to speak directly to Colonel Venseri.”

The comm. officer keyed in another command and nodded at the general.

“Colonel, this is General Etton. Do you read me?”

Several seconds of static followed before the man’s voice. “Yes, general, I read you. Are you sending-” Whatever the Colonel said after that was lost as the sound of a nearby explosion blasted over his voice.

Etton’s face betrayed a hint of concern. “Colonel? Colonel Venseri, are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m here general. Tank got hit.”

“What were you saying before?”

“Can you send us reinforcement, sir?”

Etton could barely hear the Colonel over the sounds of battle combined with the static, and he had to mentally keep himself from shouting through the comm. “Negative, Colonel. The entire force is engaged; you’re on your own for now. Recommended that you disengage and fall back to the rendezvous point.”

There was a large detonation over the comm. that actually shook the speakers on the computer console and for a moment Etton thought that colonel Venseri had been killed in the explosion. He stood there for a minute, and closed his eyes when the colonel’s voice returned, although slightly distorted. “Negative on that, sir. We cannot disengage. We’d do more good holding our ground than we would by retreating.”

Etton let out an audible sigh. “Are you sure, Colonel?”

A sound like a distant explosion came over the speaker and Vanseri’s voice became more distorted. “Yessir. There’s no way we’re getting out of here alive. Might as well take as many of em’ out as we can before we go. Slow em’ down long enough for the Ducis to escape.”

“You and your men have our thanks. May the gods watch over you.”

The sounds of battle were now pouring through the comm. speakers and the Colonel’s voice had become almost completely unrecognizable. “Thank you sir. We’re-”

A hiss of static burst through the speakers followed by an electronic shriek before suddenly going quiet.

Both Etton and Brize looked at the comm. officer who shook his head sullenly. “We’ve lost the transmission.”

“Do we still have a reading on the 3rd Tresid’s I.D.?”

“Negative, but that could be because of the storm.”

“Very well. Open a channel to all decks on the Ducis.” The man scrambled to fulfill Etton’s task as the general watched him work feverishly until the man gave him the signal that it was done. Etton nodded his thanks to the man. “All hands aboard the Ducis, this is General Etton. Our flank has been overrun and we have very little time before the enemy is upon us. When that time comes there will be very little the Ducis will offer us in protection. I am hereby ordering the evacuation of the Ducis immediately. All hands are to report the H-Deck garage to board the small transports that will be waiting.
He moved over to the center command console and typed in his service number, placed his finger on the scanner, and swiped his ID card. Brize looked at him with some hesitation but followed suite.

Instantly an artificial female voice issued over the P.A. System, temporarily drowning out the warning klaxons. “SELF-DESTRUCT ENABLED. FIFTEEN MINUTES UNTIL SELF-DESTRUCT. PLEASE BE ADVISED, BLAST RADIUS WILL BE APPROXIMATELY SIX-HUNDRED YARDS.”

Etton seemed to deflate and hung his head. Turning to Brize, he said. “Get your HE-suit lieutenant. It’s going to be cold out there.”


There was a high-pitched whistling noise followed by a loud detonation and colonel Karos realized that his feet were no longer touching the ground. He landed roughly five feet away in a snowdrift, dazed and confused, his vision blurry and his ears ringing. It took Karos several moments to realize that he was, in fact, still alive as someone helped him up from the snow. Although his vision was coming back he still couldn’t tell who had helped him up but from the muffled noise the colonel could tell that the man was saying something to him. “What?!” He pointed to his ears to emphasize.

The man who had helped him up nodded and put his hand on his shoulder, guiding him somewhere. He was saying something that Karos still couldn’t discern but he didn’t resist the man.

Karos ran for about five minutes, each step sending a jolt of pain through his body until he thought he’d keel over before the man finally stopped. It was then that Karos realized that he’d reached the forest as the stranger set him down against an enormous Thornwood’s craggy trunk. His vision had cleared up for the most part and Karos realized that his hearing had also returned, although a slight ringing noise was still audible over the sound of the man’s inquiries.
The man came over to Karos and bent down next to him. “You all right, sir? You took a pretty nasty tumble back there.”

Karos looked the man over; he couldn’t recognize him and from the unit patch he wore on his left breast pocket he could see that the man didn’t belong in his command. He glanced at the tag above the patch for the man’s name and saw the black-grey lettering that read: Pvt. Symes. Symes noticed what Karos was doing and immediately bolted upright, saluting smartly. “Sir! Private first class Elron Symes, 1st Tresdeon Infantry, 2nd battalion, 3rd division!”

Karos began to chuckle but in the end it turned into a cough as he rose to his feet. “Good to know, private. Thanks for the save back there; I owe you one.”

Symes, who had still been holding his salute stiffened visibly. “There’s no need to thank me, sir. I saw a superior officer go down and did what I could.”

Karos nodded at the private, a smile creeping it’s way across his face at the young man’s intensity. “Well, thanks anyway son. I appreciate it. I’ll be sure to send in a commendation when we get back. Now where in the hell are we? From the change in scenery I assume we’re somewhere behind the lines.”

Private Symes reluctantly dropped his salute and rubbed his shoulder absentmindedly. “I heard my C.O. order us to fall back and I left my position. I guess a mortar round or incendiary must’ve hit nearby because I wound up on the ground and when managed to get back up I was in a crowd of guys from the Cardon 4th and that’s when I saw you go down, picked you up, and dragged you here.”

Karos nodded, realizing that there were others nearby, some resting against tree trunks, others watching the exchange. “How many are there?”

“There’s about thirteen of us that made it to the tree line sir: seven Cardon, four Tresdeon and two Ilirin.”

Karos stepped forward and nearly toppled over as his foot gave way but Pvt. Symes caught him, putting the colonel’s arm over his shoulder. The colonel grunted a curse and took a few seconds before speaking again. “Doesn’t matter who’s with us now. As of this moment you are all under my command and we will proceed to the rendezvous coordinates ASAP. Forget your old units, forget your previous orders, all you need to know is that I’m in command and our only objective as of now is to meet up with the rest of our forces. Understood?”

A chorus of affirmations sounded from the troopers as they got to their feet, grabbed their packs, and started to move out. Karos began after them with a slight limp and although Symes offered to help the colonel multiple times the man flatly refused until the private cautiously suggested that Karos’s injury was slowing them down and that it would be better for everyone if the colonel allow someone to help him. On the surface Karos grudgingly accepted but Symes could’ve sworn that he caught a look of relief on the man’s face as the rest of the men voiced their support of the idea.

When the ragtag squad had moved through the forest for what seemed like an eternity Karos realized that he hadn’t heard the slightest noise, a fact that unsettled him greatly. As he felt the man who had been supporting him, a captain by the name of Edvern, began to slow Karos realized that his men were beginning to tire. In fact, his own exhaustion suddenly revealed itself to him and the striking pain in his leg had grown so intense during the time they’d walked that his senses had almost completely been numbed to it. Karos grunted, tapping captain Edvern on the shoulder and motioned for him to stop before addressing the men. “All right, we’ll rest here for now. Take five men.”

Most of the troopers immediately dropped to the ground and began opening ration packs or draining their canteens, all except for private Symes who was staring back through the trees nervously. Karos struggled over to the private, coming to a stop beside him, producing two ration bars, eating one and offering the other to Symes. Symes took the bar, thanking the colonel before tearing into it with the frenzied zeal. Karos watched the man eat with some small amount of amusement but said nothing.

They stood there for a minute, the few snowflakes that had penetrated the forest’s canopy falling around them in an almost surreal fashion before Symes finally spoke; his voice hushed slightly. “I think we’re being followed but I don’t know why. I just feel like-”

“Like someone’s watching us.” The Karos cut in, nodding, he had no proof that they were being followed but there was no need for any; he had long ago learned to trust his instincts above all other things and he had felt someone’s eyes on him since they had started walking. It was simultaneously comforting and distressing that someone else had felt the same. “Someone’s been tracking us from the beginning.”

Private Symes looked at Karos, surprise evident on his features. “You saw who was following us?”

“No,” Karos admitted, “but I’ve had a feeling someone’s been following us since the clearing.”

“What’ll we do, sir? Post sentries?”

“No, we’re too low on manpower for sentries and I doubt even sentries would do much good in this forest. We’ve got to keep moving.”
Symes said nothing, although Karos knew what he was thinking; none of them could keep going much longer at this rate. Sensing their conversation was over, Karos turned back to the eleven other men who had all been getting what rest they could and moved over to the nearest trooper; who had evidently fallen asleep against a snow bank and kicked him awake. “Get up men, you can sleep when you’re dead.”

When everyone was fully awake and ready to leave Karos pulled the troopers closer, speaking very softly. “Alright, I have some bad news. We’re being followed, possibly by an enemy force.” There were a few groans and several curses at this but they quickly quieted when Karos glared at the men responsible. “Now, as I was saying. Due to the fact that we’re being followed we will be unable to regroup with the rest of the force in case the enemy may give away its location.” There were even more groans and Karos heard several men muttering things that would entail disciplinary action under normal conditions. Briefly, Karos began to fear that their current circumstances might be enough to embolden some of his men to get ideas in their heads. “Now, we will move through the forest to the northeast and try to reach an area the task force will probably-”

Karos was interrupted when a pale man named Renner spoke up. “How do you know someone’s following us?”

Karos curled his fingers slightly at this, a habit that he’d had for quite some time when he felt unsure of what to do in stressful situations. Renner didn’t know Karos enough to be able to interpret this as a sign of weakness but Karos cursed himself inwardly nonetheless. “That isn’t important now. I’m your commanding officer!”

Another man, perhaps encouraged by private Renner’s stand verbally pounced on the colonel and threw the man completely off guard. “You aren’t our C.O. I’m with the 3rd Tresdeon and I don’t need to listen to you or follow you on your insane suicide march! Why the hell would we march north through this weather when we could head towards the rendezvous? That’s gekkin’ crazy!”

At this point, Karos’s fists were balled up, white knuckled and he could feel his face begin to flush with heat. “Out here, I’m tantamount to the gods while you’re an insect. You will follow my orders or I’ll have you charged with dereliction of duty.”

Renner spoke up, his tone challenging. “Well, you won’t be able to do that if you’re dead, now will you?”

Karos stared at the men, his calm rapidly eroding as his anger grew. “I would pick my words very carefully private. Threatening a superior officer carries a very severe punishment. Now I would suggest that you start walking and keep your mouths shut and I may let you off with a week’s penal sentence.”

Several of the men laughed at this while others, including private Symes, anxiously watched the exchange from the edge of the argument. A huge Tresdeon trooper whose tag read Ferdlan took a menacing step towards the colonel and held his rifle in a way that told everyone involved what was going to happen next. “You seem to forget that out here accidents happen. Who would file a report against us if, say, you somehow didn’t make it back with us?”

The strike came quicker than anyone had expected, catching Karos on the right cheek just below the eye with the butt of Ferdlan’s rifle. The entire squad was thrown into chaos as each person was suddenly forced to choose as side in the conflict. Most of the Tresdeon troopers, with the exception of private Symes, moved in on the staggering colonel while both Ilirin men and most of the Cardon troopers, being of the same unit as Karos, struck out at Karos’s attackers.

As Karos struggled to his feet, private Ferdlan kicked him in the side and reached down to his belt, presumably to unholster his sidearm. As the colonel looked up at Renner he saw with alarm that the private’s eyes seemed to be lost in a bestial fury, his senses clouded by bloodlust. The entire ordeal seemed to occur in slow motion as he watched the private’s hand reach for the gun and then suddenly jerk back at an odd angle as though Renner had been a mere puppet to some unseen master. Karos watched as Ferdlan’s lifeless body slumped over in the snow, revealing private Symes holding a pistol at the man’s corpse, a shocked, sad expression on his face.

Before the colonel could begin to thank Symes he heard a shout and saw private Renner slam one of the Cardon men, trooper Khern, a man he had known most of his time in the service, into the thick trunk of a Thornwood tree. Khern’s hand searched for his holster but Renner had beaten him to it; bringing Khern’s weapon to the private’s chest; pulling the trigger twice.

In a moment Karos was onto his feet and bounding towards Renner, not even aware that he was screaming until he himself wondered where the frightful bellowing was coming from. By the time Renner managed to face this new threat colonel Karos was upon him, slamming hard against him into the trunk of the Thornwood tree. The impact knocked the wind out of Renner, opening a window that Karos used very effectively; Renner lost his pistol to a sideswipe of the man’s hand and then received a punch to the gut, prompting him to keel over right into the colonel’s knee. To his credit, Renner was back to the fight in an instant, landing a hard blow in the colonel’s side, although Karos quickly subdued him with a following punch to the jaw, bringing his pistol to bear on the treasonous private as he curled into a fetal ball in the snow, blood leaking from his shattered nose.

Karos looked down at the battered Tresdeon trooper with revulsion, breathing heavily, finally realizing the toll the fight had taken on him. His leg was throbbing with a searing hot pain and if it hadn’t been before it was now certainly broken, his wrist hurt and judging from how much it hurt to breathe, he had possibly broken a rib or two.

His men hadn’t fared much better. Of the original squad seven were dead and two were wounded, although neither so severely that they were incapable of walking. The surviving men brought the other’s bodies to a snow bank and gathered their weapons ammo and supplies while others checked on the wounded. No one moved towards the motionless private curled up at the colonel’s feet. Karos took a moment to collect his thoughts and clear the anger from his mind. The sentence he was about to give the man at his feet was not one to be chosen lightly.

Colonel Karos exhaled deeply, wincing at the pain it caused, and saw the apprehension on the surviving trooper’s faces. Karos opened his mouth to speak and he heard the utter silence that had replaced the cacophony of fighting that had just minutes before cost the lives of seven men; two Cardon troopers, of which Karos himself had served with for nearly a decade; one of the Ilirin troopers; and three of the Tresdeon men who had attempted to aid Renner. Although his conscience screamed against it Karos knew what needed to be done.

The colonel lowered his pistol to Renner, still curled in a fetal ball and began to speak, “Private, 1st Class Renner. You have instigated an assault on a commanding officer and have attempted to usurp the chain of command in a combat zone, endangering not only yourself but also the lives of your fellow troopers. You are now a liability to this squad and will continue to be a threat to this unit’s safety until you are considered either a casualty of war or are delivered to a military penal facility. As stated in the Confederate articles of war I am, as the highest-ranking Confederate officer present, authorized to pass judgment on your case in the absence of a full military tribunal. Due to our compromised position I have no choice but deem you as a threat to this squad’s integrity and am required by the articles to remove such a threat immediately without hesitation.”

As the colonel’s finger tightened on the trigger Symes took a step forwards, incredulity obvious in his voice. “Colonel, look at him! There’s no need!”

Karos stared at Symes for a long time before looking back at Renner, still weeping and bleeding into the snow. “This man is the reason for all those troopers deaths. I cannot take the risk of him compromising the security of this squad again.”

Perhaps snapping back to his senses, Renner began to scrabble to his knees, his blood smeared face staring pleadingly, first at Karos, then at the other men in the squad. When he saw the solemn, fated expressions of the other men he began to weep, turning towards Karos with a pleading wail that caused the colonel to nearly break down. “P..please. I didn’t..I…didn’t”

Karos swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and pointed the pistol at the pitiful man before him, tears beginning to well up in his eyes as private Renner began frantically attempting to claw at Karos’s legs. “May the gods have mercy on your soul, for I cannot.” The pistol retort temporarily shattered the silence and left a still absence in its wake.

As tears streamed down his face, Karos looked around at the remaining men who were all staring back at him with empty eyes. Some, like those from Renner’s battalion seemed shocked and appalled while others, such as the last Ilirin trooper stared at Karos with an unreadable facial expression. He holstered his pistol and noticed that his hands were shaking almost uncontrollably. In his eight and a half years in service to the Confederate military, he had never had to carry out a summary execution.

Karos bent over and laid the private’s lifeless body across the snow, placing the corpse’s hands one over the other as gently as possible before removing the man’s tags. He got to his feet and somehow managed to keep his head raised against the shocked stares of the remaining men. Although it was hard, Karos managed to choke out his words next without so much as a stifle. “Collect the rest of the men’s tags. We have to move. Whoever’s following us is definitely going to know where we are now.”

As the remaining five men moved to carry out his orders, stared sullenly at the eight corpses who’s flesh had already begun to take on an icy blue hint as the unforgiving cold set in. He ran brought the man’s tags in front of his face and ran his thumb over the engraved lettering, silently vowing to remember the man he had killed and silently prayed for the gods to watch over the souls of the deceased. Lord Thantos, I ask you to watch over those who have passed as they join you now in the afterlife and to forgive those who sent them to you.

As he put Renner’s tags into one of his vest pockets he realized that private Symes was watching him; the man’s earlier good nature had vanished, replaced with a cold stare that showed quite clearly that Karos had lost the man’s respect. Nevertheless, Symes approached the colonel and began to help him as the rest of the squad began to move out, heading north. Not long after, several camouflaged men silently picked their way through the forest after them, barely pausing at the sight of the dead lined up at the base of a massive Thornwood before continuing on.


Etton snatched for the datapad he’d been reading as the RAEXT fast transport hit a patch of boulders, sending the small scout vehicle, as well as its occupants, flying. Etton heard Brize shout from somewhere at the driver, who was too busy shouting profanities and frantically attempting to get the vehicle back under control to notice.

They’d escaped the doomed Ducis just as the flank units had faltered, the men in those units selling themselves dearly in order to ensure the survival of their C.O. - a thought that made Etton sick to his stomach. From what he could tell, the task force was in a great deal of trouble and he had a feeling that conditions would get a lot worse before they got any better; most of his units had splintered during the disengagement and there were reports that more than one battalion had been completely routed. To make matters worse, the Republic forces had continued with their pursuit and many of the retreating Confederates, already battle weary, were slowly being run down as they attempted to escape.

Etton knew that if his task force was going to survive it would need a coordinated command structure and a chance to regroup, both of which would be very difficult with the loss of the Ducis. He leaned over to Brize, bracing himself as the RAEXT went over something big and was launched airborne for several seconds. “Lieutenant, when we get to the rendezvous I need you to help me get the units organized. We’re going to have a real mess on our hands when we arrive: individual squads, battle groups, and loners. Unless we organize them into cohesive units we won’t last against the Republic assault.”
Brize nodded gravely, “Yes, sir!”

“That’s good to hear. I’m not sure how many other command capable officers are left out here so I’m counting on you lieutenant.”
Brize nodded again, determination blazing in here eyes. “I won’t let you down sir.”

Etton allowed a slight smile to edge its way across his face before hazarding a trip to the front cab of the transport. As he approached, he heard a loud string of curses that rivaled the expertise with which he had heard his father use many years ago and quickly ran to the front of the transport. “What’s the problem?”

Etton had to brace himself against the doorway as a large explosion hit just to the left of the transport, prompting the driver to swerve hard right, narrowly missing a patch of trees. “Goddamn scads! They’re lacing the entire area with artillery fire sir! We’re lucky we haven’t been hit yet.”

To complement the man’s statement the radio chatter that came in over the comm. carried the distressed voices of myriad individuals, all seemingly experiencing the exact same feelings of battle: fear, anger, confusion. Etton said nothing as the situation washed over him: the driver’s curses, the voices from the comm., and the sounds from the other passengers. He put his hand down on the man’s shoulder, “Don’t worry son, the gods are watching over us.” Exactly after the General had finished speaking there was a deafening roar as a high-velocity artillery round hit the transport.
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