posted 04-19-99 10:58 AM ET        

The converted colony pod gave a lurch on its crawl toward its next destination. Arsinio Rivera was shaken awake held in the co-drivers seat by his safety harness.
"You OK jefe?" asked Brenda as she expertly piloted the mammoth crawler around another bedrock outcropping
"I must have dozed off there. How are we doing on locating that pod, Maya?"
From the communications station a voice immediately spoke up, "The transpounder signal is getting stronger every minute, boss, we should be right on top it soon."
As if to punctuate her sentence a deep long gash in Chirons surface appeared. It was the tell-tail evidence that a U.N.S. Unity supply pod had landed here and been dragged by its parafoils by Planet's strong winds before they automatically separated. It was still fresh-looking after over a year of erosion.
"Brenda, lets stop here and do a little remote reconnaissance. Raymond, are you at your desk?"
"I'm always at my desk, chief. Where else would I be, Hunt Valley? What can I do for his Excellency today?"
"First you can cut the crap and then launch the "Eye in the Sky."
"Roger, chief, on pie in the eye it is." Chimed in Raymond as the remote sensory drone roared off its launcher and into the air.
"Nothing fancy this time Raymond, just follow the scar and circle the pod. You can't afford the cost of another one of those babies to be taken out of your pay. This will be a great test to see if that Gaian mind worm sensor really works."
"Since when does he get paid!" chorused Brenda and Maya.
"Just a figure of speech, you know we are all in for a cut of the profit. And I can guarantee your cut is above old jarhead's."
"Yeah, and I love you too, chief. OK, I'm getting some visuals. There's the pod, it's looking good. At least this one's righted itself. The "worm-o-matic" is negative. Looks like we are actually going to make a profit on this trip. Things look "go" from here chief."
"Brenda, lets get closer. Take us up to about 200 meters from the pod. Raymond, keep the "eye" pealed in case some of those maggots are hiding or don't show up on the sensor."
"Aye, aye, capt'n." they responded in surprising harmony.

The Paparazzi vehicle lurched forward as it closed in on the supply pod. Arsinio had been diligently harvesting pods since he had landed and traded the extra rovers, helicopters and industrial modules to various factions for the resources his clan needed or wanted to trade. He was actually pretty careful who got what. He wasn't interested in seeing one faction become too powerful or too comfortable. They might not find the nomadic Paparazzi so tolerable if they did. As a refuge and bus service for disenchanted faction personnel Arsinio had a pretty detailed idea what was going on within each faction, for good and for bad. This was all very valuable in all of his dealings. The crawler slowed to a stop.

"Here we are, jefe, 200 meters from the pod. What next?" asked Brenda.
"Well, I think its time to call out the 8th Faction survivors squad. Are you guys ready?"
Philippe, Ralphedelominius, CClark, Gord and Fjorxc had just suited up and checked their tools and weapons. In unison they gave their battle cry, "Yeah sure, you becha, eh?"
"OK, you know the drill. Secure a perimeter from mind worms. Check pod integrity, and then scan the external manifest. Got that? Now be careful out there."
Arsinio heard the airlock cycle as the squad disembarked the crawler. A few minutes later they reported no mind worm signs and Raymond, at this remote sensor desk, nodded and gave a thumbs up in agreement. That was welcome news, more and more of the pods were turning into nothing more than mind worm nests.

"This is Philippe, chief, the pod looks to be in good shape. However, the external manifest seems to have been wiped or coded. I am sending the sequence to you now."

At this, Arsinio perked up. As he saw the code flash on his commlink, he smiled and then gave out a loud "Yippeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!"
"What is it? Did we strike the jackpot." Asked Maya.
"Yes, oh, yes. Yes!" Shouted Arsinio as he visualized all the "special" cargoes he had stashed in this pod for Treestock, Borodino, Garland, Godwinson, Morgan, and all the others.
Fjorxc said "Aaaaiiiiiiiiiiii!" as he fell down an ancient alien borehole.

posted 04-21-99 10:20 PM ET            

Borodino's vocacom sounded. He sprang from his overstuffed reading chair to reach it.

"Hello?"

"Jerim?"

"Yes? Valentine?"

"Yes, it's me. The Board's closed session has ended.'

"The decision?"

"You may proceed -- the Board's approved your proposal for the Morganic contact. Remember to be semi-surprised, though, when we call you in tommorrow; you know I'm not supposed to say anything." Borodino could hear Eck's smile.

posted 04-23-99 12:33 AM ET            

Dorian blinked twice as the massive portals of the University opened before them. Their convoy had travelled for months to reach this. With the nightmarish electrical storms of the flood plains now behind them, they stood on the threshold of what could be the deciding moment in the short history since their arrival on planet.

Hazel August, now better known to all as agent Queen, sidled up to him and whispered in his ear. He nodded, a wry smile briefly crossing his face. She had been right, enough, so far. The UoP delegation had been wide open to her 'human' tactics - as she liked to call them - and it was more thanks to her efforts, and the intelligence team following her instructions, that they had been invited to enter the most hallowed halls of all, University base.

The work of the Chairman's senior officals had contributed little to the enterprise, so far - and would probably continue to fail to do so. Their sole purpose was to exchange the transmitter containing Yang's private com frequency for a similar device containing the narrow transmission band that would reach 'Provost' Zahkorov.

Direct communication between leaders - what a concept. The diplomatic team didn't seem to realise they were invalidating their own usefulness in such an exchange.

Dorian shook his head - more of his woolly minded military grunt thinking, he reminded himself. Hazel wouldn't have thought that - and that was his personaly goal now, to assimilate her way of thinking into his own.

Harder than it sounds, he though, and remembered the lithe, catlike shape next to him - she could do that, too, blend into the background like she was something totally unimportant. She really was a marvel. Dangerous as hell, too, but at the moment she seemed to have the chairman's best interests at heart - and he was enjoying the ride, watching the german assassin weave her web around the university AND the hive's own diplomatic mission.

Their vehicles started, and the driver waved for them to retake their seats. The laser crawler made slow progress, but it was safe, at least for the time being. Later, it would be the last place any of them would want to be.

[Apologies for the delay in posting. I've been busy - and my irritation at SMAC, not to mention a slight case of writer's block, hasn't helped.

posted 04-29-99 07:18 PM ET            

Brother Rahjiv was happier than he could remember. Brother Legoean had returned with Delta Squad, minus one boat, just in time to help with the newly arrived ship engines from the workshops of the University of Planet. Brother Rahjiv was inspecting each part minutely to see if they matched his specifications. His old friends at the UoP had done themselves proud and maybe showed off a little. They had added a number of their own innovations to the engines: diamondized surfaces to prevent wear, self-cooling lubricants to keep down heat, micro-insulation to dampen all noise, were just a few of an ever growing list. Everything appeared to be ready to install the engines in the hull that that the Peacekeepers were building.

He activated his commlink and dictated,

"As of this day I resign as the Militia's commander. The Council, in their divinely inspired wisdom, has asked me to initiate a number of important building projects leaving me no time for troop training. I whole-heartedly recommend Brother Legoean McKibben as my replacement. He has proven his courage and devotion many times as my most valued lieutenant. May god bless him and watch over our brave Militia."

posted 04-29-99 10:35 PM ET            

Greetings from the faction of the Peacekeeping Forces of the United Nations.

I am Jeremy Allan Borodino, Minister of Extra-Factional Affairs.

In order to pursue a mutually-beneficial agenda, the ruling authorities of my faction would like to extend an invitation to negotiations at Little Geneva to begin in fifteen days.

Items proposed for discussion:

I. Recognition of the underlying goodwill and friendship between the Morganites and the Peacekeepers.

II. Establishment of normalized diplomatic relations between the Morganites and the Peacekeepers in the form of an exchange of consuls.

III. Use of the consulates to speed cultural, scientific, commercial, and other interaction between our two factions

IV. Agreements to offer aid, succor, and all reasonable assistance to travelers and citizens of both factions in need thereof.

V. Agreements for the exchange of raw materials, machined components, or finished products.

Little Geneva can only accommodate twenty individuals at one time; therefore, each side may bring up to ten persons to the meeting. In recognition of the likelihood of a general lack of trust, we would understand your including armed escorts among your complement. You should be informed that we intend to include two such individuals among our group.

I look forward to meeting with your representatives at the prescribed time and place.

Sincerely,

posted 05-05-99 10:58 PM ET            

The Peacekeepers also watched as the Unity's Tears burned the sky.

The consulate staff joined the Beleivers in silent reflection and observation.

Jeremy Borodino watched through his small telescope, brought from Earth. He was mindful of the deaths the spectacle represented, but he was more interested in the shower's mytho-astronomical significance. He pondered how future generations would view this affair and if the phenomenom would linger long enough for those generations to create myths around.

In the rest of Hope, the general view was much the same as at New Jerusalem. The overwhelming feeling of loss was only slightly ameliorated by Lal's thoughtful address to the general populace.

At Mintaka Point, the debris was tracked by radar. Jeremiah Kefauver, the on-duty operator, plotted the trajectories on his analog display. He was startled to realize that a fairly major piece of Unity's hull, with a cross section of at least sixty square meters, was about to land about a kilometer from the Point. He logged the information he had gathered and then decided to switch to a meteorological scan.

At Avalon, Lady Alice organized a memorial vigil. The visiting Jean-Luc Maartens suited up and exited the dome, easel, canvas, brushes, and paints on hand, ready to capture the solemn night.

At Falconbridge, Alexander Mason had also organized a memorial, but his was a celebration. He was one of those rare few who are capable of helping others find true solace in unsolemnity. Besides, this party was already planned. His guests, the Narmonov Expedition crew, was leaving tommorrow.

The inhabitants of Demeter's Plantation also observed the Tears appearance. There thoughts were still focused on their tragic predecessors, and they thought little of the other dead.

On board the Nicosia, Captain Jamison held a proper naval observance, then altered course to avoid the debris field.

Kulkulkan and Vulcan's Forge each missed the event, each experiencing poor weather that night. Indeed, an F5 tornado had been sighted only two and a half kilometers from Kulkulkan.

posted 05-09-99 10:41 PM ET            

"Subcommander?"

"Yes, Erika?" Lt. Sbcmdr. Elaine Duval answered.

"Just got a call from c-bay four. There's been an incident."

"Could you please be more specific?" That was the bay constructing the Beleiver ship. Sweet Mother, let it not be too serious!

"An explosion of some sort."

posted 05-13-99 03:22 PM ET            

Sister Cecilia was exhausted yet exhilarated. On the recommendation of the Ecumenical Council Sister Cecilia had ventured to the "Outlyer" camps on a mission with three goals; to proselytize Believer faith, pacify these dangerous renegades and secure the alien obelisk in their possession for Believer use. She had succeeded in achieving all three goals. It was a combination of her fiery evangelical preaching and a judicious show of force by the combined Believer militia that had convicted the Outlyers that a secure future was available for them in the fold of the Believers. Prophesizing the "miracle" of Unity's Tears hadn't hurt any either.

posted 05-24-99 11:28 PM ET            

Elaine Duval swore in most sincere French since she found herself in the dying Unity.

The Beleivers had asked that the Nicosia hull design be changed to accommodate twin diesel engines. The Believers had plenty of oil to burn, for now, and so that which would have been a luxury on a PK vessel was considered a normal addition to the Beleiver vessel.

It was the prototype engines which had exploded. And now there had to be a scapegoat. And there was no doubt as to whom that scapegoat would be, now was there?

posted 05-28-99 06:04 PM ET            

Sister Cecilia wore deeply serious look on her face but there was a mischievous grin inside of her. She was a little amused at the tantrum that Brother Rahjiv was displaying as he paced up and down her office cursing in multiple Indian dialects and doing very well with English too.

Brother Rahjiv had displayed emotions in the past; whenever a militia member was killed and during the great Planet Address failure. But those were occasions of tragedy and frustration. This was pure white-hot rage.

"Those, bleeping bleep Peacekeepers! They wrecked my engines. May they rot in bleep. So, they think they can steal MY design. I'll show them. I'm going down there and drag the truth out of those two-faced-lily-livered-blue-hatted-good-for-nothings. Why, I'll . . . . . ."

"Aw, Raj, put a sock in it. We don't have the facts yet. You don't even know if it was deliberate sabotage, and if it was, by whom."

"Ceel, don't try and calm me down this time. That design was a masterpiece and the UoP did an artistic job of fabrication. The potential of that design is only limited by the winds of Chiron. And you know what that is. This could have put Believer ships on all the seas in decades. Then that pompous Borodino and that has-been Donovan will have to come to us and make us fair deals. We won't have to go begging for their bleeping scraps anymore. Aw, Ceel, don't you see. They all think we are a bunch bleepity bleep backward superstitious freaks who are afraid of bleeping science and will never amount to a bleeping thing. And when we raise our heads up then they slap us down. This is just the latest insult."

"Raj, Raj, I ain't disagreeing with you. All I am saying is let's get some facts straight before we go off half cocked."

posted 06-03-99 08:56 AM ET            

"Blast that rasna!" Alexander fumed.

The Mayor of Falconbridge was some kilometers from his command, but then his command was the reason for his being here. Here being the power relay station halfway between Falconbridge's microfusion generator [stocked from Earth] and the meteorological station high on Queen's Mountain -- well, he considered it a mountain, being from flat ole Louisiana; he was sure his Tibetan chief engineer back in Falconbridge, busy trying to track down some bugs in the comm system, would think differently about it.

"Shannon, do you see it?"

"It's not over here."

It had to be a rasna. Just had to be. Nothing else they'd encountered so far did this to electrical equipment: random surges and shorts, strange arcings of electricity, and occassional complete power drains.

"We'll catch this � thing," he replied, watching his language in front of the staunchly Catholic Irishwomen, "if it's the last thing we do!"

"It's a sneaky little rascal, isn't it, sir." Somehow, that was not said as a question.

"Yeah�"

The animal in question looked for all the world like an overgrown squirrel, being close to a meter in length, save for its typical Centauran predireliction towards mutli-leggedness, having four pairs evenly spaced along its body. The head was broader and longer than the Earth rodent's and more predatory in appearance, and the tail more resembled a weasle's -- well, perhaps the whole blooming thing looked more like a weasel, Mason thought. It certainly was weasely enough in behavior.

But whatever Earth creature it more resembled, it was causing damage now, due to a feature not found among the land animals of Earth. Somehow this thing managed to carry an electric charge, much like the so-called electric eel, except even more substantial; and was capable of discharging very quickly -- and it has the annoying tendency of doing just that while inside power stations and near other sensistive equipment.

posted 06-09-99 12:18 AM ET            

"Yes?"

"It appears the damage was not as bad as previously feared. The explosion was different than previously beleived."

"Meaning?"

"The fuel lines between the fuel tanks and the engines were installed poorly. Specifically, the intake and the exhaust were inverted."

"Really? That cannot have been good."

Elaine winced. "No sir, it was not. The engines were being put through an initial start-up check -- non-propulsive -- and as when the fuel attempted to go through the engines backwards, it caused what should have been the outtake roters out of place. This ended causing sparking inside the exhaust chamber. The fuel combusted."

She paused to see if her superior had anthing to interject. He nodded his head to indicate she should continue.

"The exhaust chambers were destroyed, along with the intake fuel lines, and the fuel storage tanks. Fortunately, there was not much fuel on board to explode."

"Damage turned out to be minor in the truly important parts of the engines. The bulkheads around the engines will have to be rebuilt, as will those around the fuel tanks. The project will be delayed some three decurns or so. Certain parts, such as the flow regulators on the fuel lines, shall have to be remanufactured -- the Ministry of Industry has yet to inform me when they can do this."

"To summarize, the damage was not so bad as previously thought. The sensitive parts of the engine are fine. The project will be delayed, but the damage is not irreparable. We are also fortunate that no one was seriously hurt."

posted 06-14-99 03:32 PM ET            

"And Sister Miriam wants me to run the investigation," Brother Legoean talked into thhe comm station in his desk.
"Thats right sir, remember we are the closest thing we have to an inquisitory now," a Male voice responed for a small pair of speekers, "and congrations sir on your Promotion."
"Thank you sargent but that will be all," Brother Legoean dismised the officer as he turned the comm station off.

Brother legoean liked his new position as commander of the beliver Militia. But there was one draw back. The formalites, the paper work, and the red tape. He just finished a weapons invitory now has to start the investiagion on the desil ship engien.

posted 06-28-99 03:55 PM ET            

Brother Greg sat in the office of the lab sadly contemplating the changes in the Believers and in his friends. Their colony had been progressing reasonably well through the first tough year after planet fall. Everyone worked together, they had to in order to survive. Those were heady days of bad air, mind worm encounters, and spiritual awakenings. That's what had draw Brother Greg to the Believers in the first place: the glow of goodness and deep empathy that emendated out of Sister Miriam and seemed to make everyone she talked to and touched more balance, more content, more godly.

Brother Greg could put his finger on the moment when it all changed. The night that Sister Miriam's planetary address to the other factions was sabotaged derailed the Believers shinning way and had driven it onto a much darker path. There had been no cries for forgiveness from Sister Miriam or the Ecumenical Council. From the people there were only demands for revenge.

Then came the laws and scriptures sent down from the Council. The new rules for faith, belief, worship and thinking. The Believers hungry for hope and salvation accepted the laws even as the humanism and spiritually was squeezed out of the emotional mix that had once cemented them together. Yes, the new harsh orthodoxy caused some to leave, but it also drew other converts from faithless factions. Brother Greg had stayed on to be close to his friends despite the ever-increasing pressure to conform to the New Way Scriptures and to obey.

Now his friends were all gone. None of them had fallen to an e-suit tear or mind worm rush. They had succumbed to the will of Sister Miriam and her vision of a new covenant with god and the crusade to unite all the peoples of Chiron under the banner of Believer orange; for their own good. The crusade was progressing not with armies, yet, but with fervently loyal evangelizing probe teams. They had infiltrated all of the other factions, even the hated Hive and Spartan Command. That's where Brother Rahjiv and Sister Cecilia were now, setting up new Believer cells. There was a movement at Brother Greg's door and Arsinio Rivera walked in.

"Brother Greg, all of your gear is stowed in the caravan. We are set to leave in 30 minutes. Is there anything else you want to take?" asked the paparazzi clan leader.

"Just a second Arsinio. I just have to send a couple of more messages." Brother Greg then sent his resignation to Sister Miriam, and short "goodbye" notes to his one-time friends over the commlink. He then thoroughly erased all his files, especially the work on the pharmaceutical properties of mind worm venom. He then got up and headed to the door.

"Let's go Arsinio, there is nothing for me here now. By the way, my name is Greg, just plain Greg."