Man I am loving this already-excellent (written rather like a Themoclaw story). What are the game parameters friend?    

"TARGET!"

"UP!"

"FIRE!"

The MT80 rocked sharply as the main gun fired with a sharp boom. A just landed crash down pod off in the distance exploded magnificently. The tank sped across the prairies which had become a battlefield, littered with debris, spent ordnance and shattered bodies and vehicles. The crash down pods were still coming in rapidly, it was all the crew could do to keep up with targets.

"Shuttle, 500 meters, coming in fast!"

"Corporal?"

"Sir, 40 degrees elevation at 75 degrees."

"LOADING!"

"TARGET!"

"UP!"

"FIRE!"

The tank rocked sharply to the side as the gun fired at 75 degrees of centerline, but stayed true on course. The high explosive round just nicked the thruster of the incoming shuttle, exploding and sending the nose of the shuttle down, starting a spiral of certain death as it crashed to the ground.

Corporal Fakult had worked alot of electronic targeting systems, but for him nothing beat the simplicity of the MT80. Versatile yet simple, it could track five targets simultaneously and engage as fast as the loader could service the main gun. The MT80 wasn't designed to counter airborne targets, but the targeting system was good enough to fire on the move and take out larger airborne targets like heavy lift shuttles. He worked the controls almost effortlessly, like playing a favorite video game. Electronics fed him data, he picked targets, lit them up for the tank commander who executed the firing sequence.

"TARGET!"

"UP!"

"FIRE!"

The tank lurched again as another target was obliterated by the smooth bore 125mm main gun. As one target went down, he designated another one. Or another...what was that? A convoy?

"Sir, enemy convoy bearing 235 degrees--"

"FIRE!"

The loud clang of an empty shell pulled from the main gun by the loader accented his briefing for the tank commander "--235 degrees, 5 vehicles, 1700 meters, moving fast." Fakult paused again as the firing sequence repeated itself. "Sir, intercept course is on your HUD." Fakult could feel the tank veer to the new course--apparently the tank commander was as curious as he was about the convoy.

---

He could just barely hear cochlear translator implant--CTI--piping some electronically accented speech into his ears, but not enough of his hearing had returned for him to hear exactly what. Groggily, Lashenko opened his eyes to a very angry Torian soldier yelling in his face.

The soldier gestured violently, as if trying to get his attention or intimidate him. He was in too much pain and too groggy to care. The ground under him lurched, almost tossing him out of his chair...wait, this wasn't ground, he was in some kind of vehicle. He noticed his head had been staring at his feet, he struggled to lift it up to look at the Torian again. The Torian apparently gave up screaming at him, and seemed to be screaming at another Torian who was screaming and gesturing back at the first one. The first one came back over, and drew and arm back...

Lashenko felt an explosion, and then the world went upside down and sideways as he was flung around the interior like a discarded rag doll as his world fell dark yet again.

---

"ETA?"

"At our current speed, Captian, about 36 hours."

Captain Frank Jackson set his jaw and squinted at the view screen. "A damn sight better than 70 hours," he thought to himself. Jackson was on his third command, BB 103 the Leyte Gulf. Jackson had the best engineering crew in the 7th Fleet, his chief engineer had been working on bending--or streamlining, as he said--the warp field to get more speed out the engines, but it wasn't safe to maintain the speed.

Right now, safe was out the window. "Sensors?"

"Nothing on sensors."

"How soon will Cassius Prime be in range?"

"10 hours at least, sir. That's assuming no subspace storms to dampen the range, and that isn't likely. We'll definitely have them in range at 14 hours."

A grizzled veteran of the Boarder Wars, Jackson had turned down promotions to stay where he loved to be: on a ship, with his crew on the front lines. He had only been a Tactical Action Officer during the Boarder Wars, but it was enough to give him more experience than many current fleet captains. It was this experience that allowed him to turn down promotions without being forced out of the Navy.

He didn't have a good feeling about this. The Boarder Wars started with a few skirmishes, some lingual misunderstandings and alot of politician bluster and ego. This was a sneak attack out of the blue by a race that was generally peaceful. Something must have triggered the attack, something very compelling.

---

The convoy looked unusual from the start. Five armored vehicles heading away from the main battle. As is usual for an armored column, the lead vehicle was destroyed, forcing the vehicles behind to stop or crash. They were all support vehicles, however, not combat vehicles--tank lifts, fuel tankers, and an APC. A single APC. The APC launched itself over the wreck of the first vehicle, over turned once and landed on its side, with the back door cracked open like a walnut and slid to an untimely stop.

The whole convoy was unusual enough to warrant a stop and a closer investigation by Fakult's platoon.

Fakult made his way closer to the broken APC. "I think he's dead, sir."

"Who, private," Fakult demanded.

"Look at this guy...he's messed up."

Fakult knelt down and could feel a weak pulse. He put his head near the battered soldiers mouth and could hear faint breathing. He was definately 'messed up' he thought, looking at the soldier. Face was full of cuts and bruises, ragged uniform, blood coming out of one ear, his nose solidly shattered.... Fakult looked for a name tag, and found one: LASHENKO.

---

"Torians?"

"Yes, sir! That is the report we got from Cassius Prime. The 2nd Marines are fully engaged, reporting over 1000 casualties so far. Primary anti-air defenses are disabled, and Torian heavy transports are just starting to land."

"Give 'em hell, Marines," Austin thought. He knew that once the heavy transports landed, things got grim for the defending forces. "Ensign, get me the Torian Consulate on the horn." A moment later Tai'Kar appeared on his view screen. "I don't appreciate sneak attacks, Tai'Kar. Are you looking for an all out war--which you can't win, I might add--or were you just thinking of vacationing on some newly annexed colonies?"

"Wh-wh-why," the Torian Ambassador stammered, "I don't know what you're talking about! Admiral, what is all this talk of war?"

"Cassius Prime, Acturus Shipyards and Vega VII. Right now YOUR forces are busy invading, killing MY men!"

"Bu-bu--" Austin disconnected, and turned his attention back to the holographic display. All of his fast LPDs--Landing Pad, Dock, an archaic designation used during 20th century earth to designate naval ships used for landing soldiers and equipment on a beachhead--were too far away to give any support to the fringe colonies being invaded. Torians did have some boarder star bases, and taking out Checkpoint 122--a random designation used by the 7th Fleet--would give him a straight beeline at Kryo II.

He considered his options.

"Ensign, dispatch CC 57, 61 and 11th squadron to RV 8, they are to regroup and assault Checkpoint 122. I want the LPD 1022 through 1027 to meet us at RV 127. They may take our colonies today, but they won't have them for long. I intend to take them back. Ensign, set course!"

"Yes sir!"

Kudos RogueIdea, this is really well written . Keep it up. I'm looking forward to more .

Doh! You're right, I knew that didn't look right. Thanks for the spelling tip on Captain too--not sure why/how I missed that one.

Seems I can't edit my story posts for some reason to fix it, but it's letting me edit this one :-? Well anyway.

As for the tank loading, some time with the history channel and some books gave me some insight there, while Star Trek gives me some model for starships.

Every society has a dark underbelly. Like a tree that is beautiful on the outside, but rotting and dying from the inside out, if the root system could be unearthed the rot would be revealed. Fetid organisms darting this way and that, climbing over each other and in and out of burrows on there way to or from their next meal on the roots, on the carcasses of other fetid organisms, and sometime even on each other. Biting, stinging, feasting on the roots of the tree, slowly choking it to death as they make their shelter in the life giving roots, and working their way up into the trunk of the tree.

This underbelly had its own laws, its own social structure, its own streets. Laws were enforced brutally, swiftly and without mercy. A lucky transgressor was killed, there were worse punishments. The social structure was built on favors, bribes and raw power and prestige. Everyone had a ranking whether they knew it or not. Minor players were ignored or brushed aside, with the more powerful often fighting for the next position, collecting favors, paying bribes, exercising their power. The streets had no maps showing their back alleys, blind switch backs or roads to nowhere. There were no street lights, one knew his way thorough the treachery or one fell pray to it.

Zal'Ga was born into the fetid underground of Toria. Coming from a poor family, often the only way to get food was to steal it, or run an errand for money for a character of ill repute. As he proved a trustworthy and loyal errand boy, his status grew as did the nature of the illicit activity he was doing. It started first with simple things: take this and deliver it here lead to get in here and steal this. There were many of these kinds of errands as he grew up, he became accustomed to trading favors for food. He became an enforcer, graduating from stealing to beatings, beatings given without mercy or care and often for reasons unknown. He had learned to view fellow Torians as tools to be used, objects to be owned. He knew one thing: since he became an enforcer, meals were plentiful.

His first killing was only remarkable in one way: it was easy. Executed at first without feeling, he stalked his mark through the streets and waited until he had entered a blind switchback, a community that would not witness anything, even in broad daylight at noon. He slowly drove the knife into his victim, feeling the blood warmly flowing over his hand, grinning slightly at having power over life. The ecstasy of it drove him into a frenzy, and he stabbed his victim over and over, with violence and prejudice, even after his victim was dead until he was covered in blood. He was unmoved by the slack jawed stares cast at him from onlookers that would never testify that they saw anything, slack jawed at the pure, primal violence of his attack.

It was time to make his move, for him to move up in rank and prestige.

His first mark was his current employer. Zal'ga killed the gang leader and took his place. He executed those that didn't follow orders. He removed incompetence by killing it. Zal'ga built his gang on the shores of a river of blood. He steadily built his reputation in the underworld, becoming feared, becoming ever more ruthless. Soon his gang was large, and there was a change from the internal feuds of the underworld to beginning to control visible society. Money was exchanged, bribes taken, soon government officials began to fall under his sway. If they could not be corrupted, they could be blackmailed. If they could not be blackmailed, the family of the victim could be kidnapped, only to be returned after the victim was broken.

Victims would go to the police, only to find the police were nothing but paid thugs of his organization. Once the victim went to the police, the intimidation and extortion grew worse--all resistance of the victim had to be crushed. The incorruptible would be broken until mercy was begged for, and then only conditionally granted.

Slowly over years his organization became known and feared in whispered conversation filled with nervous glances. His organization had become so large, that nobody dared opposed it. Resisters no longer needed to wander into a blind switchback to be murdered, most of Toria had become a blind switchback for his organization. Prosecutors that perused his organization were toyed with: near brushes with death, family kidnappings that only lasted a short time and without demand. If the prosecutor didn't understand that he was on a dangerous path, his family would suffer first starting with the murder of his children. There could be no resistance, no quarter given.

When Zal'ga was ready to take the final seat of government, it was an orderly transition of power. The needed blood had been spilled, elections had been fixed. He simply walked into the office of the emperor and asked that he step down. The surreal scene became more frightening as security was called, but no guards arrived, the trusted aid was unavailable, the close confidant advised that he not 'make a scene'. The coup was total and bloodless, the announcement made on holovisions across Toria. Those that did not walk the halls of power were stunned, protests were violently crushed. Government officials that spoke against the new emperor were openly murdered in front of their colleagues until nobody dared say anything but words of allegiance. There could be no resistance, no quarter given.

Zal'ga was not satiated. The relentless hunger of his youth was simply a biological need, but as his power and ambitions grew that physical hunger changed into a hunger for power over people, control over events, the power to decide who lived and who died. It was not long before the Torian Commonwealth fell under his sway, but quietly to the rest of the universe. The peaceful Torian Commonwealth was largely ignored by the other major powers in the universe until they were simply in the way. They had remained neutral in the Boarder Wars, allowing free passage through their space in exchange for peace. They made sure to trade equally with all races to further secure their neutrality.

It was a perfect cover. Shipyards deep inside Torian space, well away from prying sensors of other races secretly built new ships, powerful ships, ships not for defense but for conquest. Armies had been raised not in honor but in brutality, armies that had no low they would not cross to accomplish their objectives.

The sciences were hijacked from discovering cures for disease and other needs of the people to weapons research. New engines were needed to launch attacks, and a new weapon, a weapon that would be feared. In society that weapon was murder, blackmail, kidnapping, but these tools were wrong for instilling galactic fear. It must be a weapon that was brutal, relentless, because there must be no resistance, no quarter given.

Subverted from medical uses, advanced research into nanobots was promising. In medicine nanobots were programmable and life saving. In construction, a colony of nanobots could break down a material into base components and reconstruct it from base components into something else. The nanobots could be programmed, and soon the programming capacity increased, doubled, tripled until nanobots could be used on a large scale.

The Nano Plague had been born.

With its birth came the birth of a new and terrible Torian Commonwealth: no longer a Commonwealth, the flag was changed into symbol resembling an eclipse on a blood red background. The Commonwealth changed into an Empire, an Empire that bore resemblance to the gang that Zal'ga ran as a youth, and to the government that he ran as a dictator. Thus, it would be named after his criminal organization and became known as the Empire of the Shadow Sun.

---

"Gone, sir...they're all gone. Everything is gone. I'm not detecting any signs of life, no technology, nothing."

Captain Jackson set his jaw, considering the 5000 soldiers that had just...disappeared. Disappeared with out a whisper, bloodless. A silent pall fell over the bridge as the shock of the disappearance--death--of the Marines had come so swiftly. This was no time to be indecisive: "Ensign, keep your eyes open for enemy ships. People, this is no time to let our guard down. The enemy has caught us unaware, but now has lost the element of surprise. Ensign, get me command and patch it through to my Ready Room."

"Sir!"

---

"Admiral, we don't know what we're dealing with. We've never seen anything like it."

"Concur, Admiral. I just had 5000 Marines, men and material just disappear."

"Was there any sign of a weapons discharge? Energy surge? Anything?"

"Nothing, Admiral."

Austin sat pensively in front of his communications console in front of the images of his three commanders leading the liberation of Cassius Prime, Acturus Shipyards and Vega VII. "You're dismissed--not you, Frank."

"Sir?"

"What do you think we're dealing with?"

"Anything I can think of is just speculation. Who knows. All we know is that the Torains have some new kind of weapon that is very dangerous. How did you know to send the abort code, sir?"

"The Torian Ambassador. He contacted me just after I gave the go ahead for the operation. He told me not to land on those planets, then I saw him murdered on screen."

"Holy shit."

"Agreed. Something is very wrong inside the Torian Commonwealth--war just isn't their way--" his chain of thought was interrupted by a bleep from his console. "Frank, we'll have to continue this some other time, looks like our Altarian neighbors are checking in."

"Roger, sir, over and out."

Yeah, I thought of that after I wrote it. I'll take some cheese points for it

When I was experimenting with modding GC I introduced a nano plague invasion option, as well as nano augmented soldiers as another (very expensive) invasion option. I never got the nano soldiers to work right, ideally 1000 of them would be enough to take out 16000+ population planets. The nano plague was better, essentially more destructive Mass Drivers that both increased the offense % and decreased the defense %, and did much more planetary damage. Nano plague could pretty much cripple any planetary defenses and I ended up using it on desperate battles or planets that I just didn't have enough soldiers to invade.

The nano plague will be doing some interesting things, tho, so keep an eye on it.

Really excellent story Rogue!   One of the most interesting yet.

Sentient species taste better...

The most dangerous of battlefield insertions, crash down pods were a disposable method for infantry deployment. Dropped from orbit, the crash down pods had limited guidance, and could not compensate for things like storms or strong winds that could knock them off course. Generally they could land with in a few miles of their intended target.

It actually wasn't anti-air defenses that made deployment via crash down pods dangerous, it was the somewhat random nature of the drop. A pod could be blown off course and impact a mountain thousands of feet above where the intended target was which meant that the pod was still going far too fast at impact, destroying the pod and the soldiers. Crashing down through storms or onto surfaces of unknown hardness added to the danger. Many soldiers were evacuated after the battle with broken legs, ankles, ribs from mishaps in delivery via crash down pod.

Crash down pods were still the most effective first strike during a planetary assault. In addition to being small and fast, as crash down pods entered an atmosphere the ablative armor flaked off as heat was absorbed and dissipated, creating dozens of false targets confusing targeting sensors. This was a known problem with targeting crash down pods, and even the most sophisticated sensors had difficulty accurately targeting individual pods. This gave rise to high altitude flak cannons or rockets that could be fired enmasse at the incoming pods, with the warheads detonating at various preset altitudes to attempt to breach the hull integrity of the incoming pods. Even a pin hole puncture at altitude would be enough to cause the rest of the hull to disintegrate the pod as it continued down.

Clutching his harness for dear life, 1LT Lashenko had no love for the ride in a crash down pod. The pod rattled and shook as it came down, but that calmed down once the sound barrier had been broken. He watched the altimeter in front of him, and saw he was nearing the crash down point. He bent his knees and pulled him self tight up against the harness--so far he hadn't broken his legs yet on a landing. The multi-layered shock absorbers took most of the punch out of the jarring landing, and his knees took the rest.

The explosive bolts blew the pod open, and he released his securing harness and dove out onto the battle field, readying his rifle as his combat goggles began to link into the battlefield network. The first thing was always to get away from the crash down pod on landing. He didn't get far before hearing screaming.

"Lieutenant! Lieutenant, his legs are broken!" Leshenko dropped down in his pod with two privates--standard so if his pod was destroyed the command structure of his platoon wasn't decapitated in one landing.

Leshenko rushed over and saw the soldier: both legs were broken, one with a compound fracture with his shin coming out through the skin. "Mark the pod and--ARMOR, 12 o'clock, take cover Private!" Lashenko sprinted away from the pod just as it exploded behind him, the blast wave from the explosion tossing him down on the ground. "Anti-armor, anti-armor, mark that position," he yelled into his suit radio. He moved through the battlefield, regrouping his platoon as he went.

Lashenko had been reassigned to the 177th Marines (Planetary Assault) after he recovered from his injuries on Cassius Prime. It had been 154 days since the war was started by the Torians. Planets had changed hands back and forth, and this was his third assault in as many months. However, while most planets had been industrial in nature, this one was different: Jericho V was a research planet, far away from the front lines. 7th Fleet had no intentions of holding the planet, it was to be a surgical strike. Lashenko didn't know much about what was going on except three Engineering platoons had been attached, and his platoon was tasked with assaulting one of the research labs on the planet. Other units had similar orders, and each platoon had an extra squad of engineers with them to complete the mission.

---

2 Months Earlier

---

"Frank, please sit down. This is Vice Admiral Smith, Office of Naval Intelligence," said Fleet Admiral Jack Austin. Captain Frank Jackson sat down without comment. "Admiral Smith, lets get started."

The holovision came alive, displaying what was left of Cassius Prime. "Naval Intelligence has been trying to track down what weapon was used to destroy Cassius Prime. We don't know what it is or where the Torians got it. What we do know is that it is persistent: we have launched probes down to Cassius Prime and as they approach the surface, they are disintegrated. The atmosphere readings at high altitude are normal, and as soon as the probes hit about ten thousand feet, they disintegrate and we lose contact with them."

"We also know that the Torians haven't used the weapon since," Smith continued. "We don't think they can control it."

"What do you mean, sir," Jackson asked.

"What I mean is whatever this weapon is, it doesn't have an off switch. Whatever is consuming that planet is still consuming it--that's just an assumption as I said earlier we can't get any closer to the ground than ten thousand feet. Seems this weapon is nothing but a planet destroyer. High value planets still need to be invaded by conventional means." Smith furrowed his brow. "We think that they're researching or have researched this weapon on Jericho V."

"Sir, I thank you for letting me in on this, but what does this have to do with me," Jackson inquired.

"Frank, we want you to lead a task force to assault Jericho V." Austin flipped a switch and the holovision switched to a galaxy view centered on the Jericho system. "Jericho V is deep in Torian space, there is no way we could hold it, but we're not going to try."

"It's also defended by a small fleet," Smith added.

"So we're going to sail a task force deep into Torian space, take out a system defense fleet capture Jericho V and leave?"

"No, you're just going to invade Jericho V. The Torians have to starbases, here and here," Austin said while pointing at the holovision. "We have two task forces to take out those starbases which provide long range sensor coverage for the Jericho system. Once that is done, right here," he said pointing again, "is a shipyard planet, Iolo III. It's close enough to Jericho V that the fleet there can provide support."

"Our intelligence says that an attack on Iolo III would be enough for the Torians to provide support from the defense fleet at the Jericho system," Smith said.

"Without sensor support from those starbases, they'll be blind to your task force. It isn't likely they will send the entire fleet, so your task force needs to provide support and interdiction while the operation is in progress."

Jackson set his jaw: "How many hours do we have before reinforcements arrive, assuming success at tying up the fleets at Iolo III?"

Austin and Smith looked at each other. "We don't have good intel on that. We might stir up a hornets nest, and you'll need to hold a delaying action until the operation is complete."

---

"Stack up," Lashenko yelled. He watched as his platoon 'stacked up' along the wall of the research building, getting ready to breach the door and storm the facility. He checked his rifle, put in a fresh magazine and reviewed the data on his combat goggles. He looked over his platoon, hearing shouts of "Ready!" from each soldier.

"Breach and clear!"

"Yes sir!" The private placed an explosive breaching charge on the door, and a moment later the door exploded inward shredding a couple of Torian soldiers on the other side. As Lashenko stormed in with his platoon, the soldier in front of him caught heavy fire from inside. The dead soldier tripped up Lashenko, who landed on the ground. It probably saved his life--the defenders were entrenched and fighting hard. Lashenko stayed on the ground and laid down withering fire, taking out a couple of the defenders.

His soldiers were making way into the facility. He approached a corner, signaled for his soldiers to stack up along the wall. "Frag out!" he yelled as he tossed a grenade around the corner. As soon as it went off, he stormed around the corner and took out a couple more Torian soldiers.

Out of nowhere a Torian grabbed him. His rifle clattered to the ground as he grabbed the Torian and swung him around, throwing him against a wall. He drew his pistol and fired several shots into the Torian. Shouts of "Clear!" could be heard around him, and he added his own as he picked up his rifle.

"Sergeant, bring in the Engineer team."

"Yes sir!"

---

"Ensign, bring us around and take the lead ship, pin down those cruisers with a flanking action from our cruisers and send the destroyer squadron in!" The Leyte Gulf shook again from another weapons hit. "How long before more reinforcements arrive?"

"Sir, one hour sir!"

The battle was an on going cat and mouse game. The Torians couldn't win, but their ships were faster and able to hide behind Jericho V, while Jackson's task force chased them. The Leyte Gulf engaged a battleship with support of a cruiser while the other ships in his task force chased the other Torian ships.

They had one hour to wrap up the battle and evacuate the Marines planet side.

"Take out their engines, I'm tired of chasing these assholes!" His order was punctuated with a shudder of the weapon batteries firing. The mass drivers drove into the thruster manifold of the Torian battleship, slowing it considerably. Letye Gulf swung wide to port while the support cruiser swung to starboard, enveloping the battleship. Heavy fire from Letye Gulf and the support cruiser perforated the hull of the battleship.

"They're venting atmosphere, it looks like their orbit is destabilizing," the Tactical Officer reported as the Torian battleship fell in slow motion toward Jericho V.

"Sir, task force is reporting that the other Torian ships are falling back!"

"Send down the recovery shuttles."

totally awsome!!! I have this page bookmarked!!!

This is a killer story Rogue...I only read stories that have good grammar and writing...yours also has a great plot. Keep it up. This rivals Themocaw's work which is high praise!

Rogue, come on back and give us another installment!

Sentient species taste better...

Gone the way of so many before it <sigh>