14^th February 2233

The Agora, Olympus Prime

Nicomedes Starport

The newly docking Navy Transport must have been carrying important passengers for there was a small party of Senior Naval Personnel as well as some politicians waiting to greet it. One of these was none other than the boy-man who was now being talked of as the second power in the Exiles, none other than one of the Ohirides twins.

The party moved forward as soon as the landing doors started extending even though it would take those within several more minutes to unbuckle themselves, listen to a quick disembarkation brief from the Crew Quartermaster and then gather their personal effects.  For his part Castor Ohirides was impatient to see his brother.  They might have fought like cat and dog in the past but the truth was that he missed his sibling and he also dreaded the day that one of his secretaries would bring him the news that he feared the most; that he had fought one Torian fighter too many, that one of them was an even better flier than him-it was surely only a matter of time wasn’t it?

But there he was ambling coolly down the landing ramp as if he had not a care in the world. A small crowd had gathered, perhaps drawn there by the Politicians and the high-ranking military men.  On seeing Pollux a shout went up:

‘May the Gods keep you Master Ohirides, saviour of the Exiles! May the Gods keep you!’

Castor couldn’t help but smile and moved forward to embrace his brother who was now wearing a look of surprise on his handsome features: he hadn’t expected his brother to be here, after all.

Another shout ‘Oh look there’s the twin-GODS BLESS YOU BOTH!’ and a spontaneous cheering and clapping went up, which was then echoed by curious passers by and travellers.

‘You are well met brother’ Castor cried, tears welling up in his eyes

‘As are you brother’ and the insouciance was gone as the two embraced, hugging each other tightly.  This show of affection drove the crowd to ever wilder applause: it was good to see these two youths, who were doing so much for the survival of their race, showing the appropriate emotions.  The Exiles were, after all emotional creatures.

‘Come let’s to the hovercar-this crowd is getting a bit carried away’ shouted Castor ushering his brother to one of a several vehicles that had just pulled up.

Pollux nodded but first turned to introduce Castor to a taller, older man coming up behind ‘first brother let me introduce you to my best friend and fearless flying partner-‘

‘Of course Tetrarch Christos Sec I do believe?’ Castor extended his palm to this other pilot who’s deeds of valour and bravery almost matched those of Pollux, ‘I have heard much about you-will you ride with us?’

Sec nodded politely-he was not a big one for politicians however young or brilliant.  He waved off his putative 1^st Officer, Hoplomachos Drew and followed his friend and his friend’s brother into the car.

They sped from the transport and docking zones and swiftly into the top-secret military base that abutted the rest of the Starport.  A smooth ride of not more than five or so minutes had them stood at a great empty bay.  The cars’ stopping was the signal for everyone to get out-the air was electric with expectation: they all knew why they were there.

Pollux turned to his flying partner, ‘well Christos let’s hope my brother has done his homework and the bigwigs waive a proper Officer’s course huh?’

‘Indeed my young friend or we will not be seeing each other for some time-a year or more…those cadet flying courses are a bitch!’ Sec muttered gloomily-he was at once excited about what they were about to see but also pessimistic about Castor Ohirides’s chances of persuading the Trierarchs to waive the fact that this most accomplished of flyers had still not actually passed out officially from the Exiles Naval Academy thirty miles hence.

And just as they were both contemplating the possibility of this unpalatable reality Castor approached them from behind and put an arm chummily around each of their shoulders. ‘Whereas it would seem most appropriate to allow Acting Lochagos Ohirides to partake in the new Capital Ship Training Standard if we can also interweave into his training elements of the Naval Officers Course so that he can pass out as both a fully fledged Ship’s Commander and a commissioned officer then there will be no need for you to attend the Academy.  It will be intensive for you brother but we all know how quickly you pick up all things military…how does that sound?’ 

Castor stepped back beaming: it had taken a lot of political capital to allow this to happen-arms had to be twisted and veiled threats issued but it was most certainly worth it to see the look of sheer, unadulterated joy light up both his brother and Sec’s faces.  They were so overcome that they clapped each other in a great hug, dancing about in some strange embrace that brought looks of wonderment from the other flyers and glares of disapproval from the Senior Officer’s present.  There was not a thing they could do to chasten or discipline the two, however, for they were with Castor Ohirides, currently the second most powerful person in all of the Colonies.

The sudden sound of the bay floor moving from many metres below them brought back everyone’s attention as the whole gantry started to rise.  The party, which must have numbered about thirty, edged forward as the brand new glistening Titan Class Light Destroyer hove into view.  There was a collective intake of breath.  ESS Coeus was a thing of singular beauty.  It was shaped like a Phoenix rising: its beautiful head and nose were almost beaked leading to the long ‘neck’ section on which the main body sat. And from there two arched wings flared forward almost to talons.  As the gantry reached their level they all, as one, moved forward to admire, to touch, to stare.  The sleek lines, the three Omnicorps Mass Drivers one on either side of the body near the wings and one just above, the sleek and powerful single Gentle Ion Heaven warp drive system that would propel the ship up to speeds of three parsecs per week; unheard of velocities.  Acting Lochagos Ohirides walked the length of the sleek craft running an appreciative hand along her smooth underbelly. He was working out her dimensions as he walked: she was 299m from nose to stern, had a span of 199m from the tip of one wing talon to the other and she probably displaced approximately 850 metric tonnes.  One of the reasons that he was such a deadly flyer was his ability to instantly make calculations such as this: an immeasurable advantage when working out the capabilities of enemy ships as well as ones own. This particular vessel was light, manoeuvrable and fast but was maybe lacking punch:  generally, though, it was just what they had been crying out for.

‘Who designed this ship brother?’ Pollux whispered, tears starting from his eyes, ‘this-this is a thing of wonder is it not?’

‘You will meet him soon enough Pollux-a young designer and engineer called Archimedes-we have become firm friends.  He will be at your first brief tomorrow morning.’

Just at that moment there was a commotion to the far side of the hangar.  Shouting could be heard and, as all craned their necks for the source of the brouhaha, they spotted a messenger running towards them.  On his arrival all knew immediately that the news was not good.  The pale and exhausted woman snapped up a salute but was then seemingly confused at who she should deliver the message to as there was a Senior Admiral here as well as Mathitis Ohirides

As if reading the woman’s mind that senior naval man stepped forward: ‘you can deliver the message to all of us-speak Sailor!’ Trierarch Sunna snapped ‘what is it?’

‘Trierarch, Mathitis, Officers and Councillors, grave news.  We have just learnt that the Torians have unleashed two capital ships of their own into the Demeteron system.  They have already destroyed three Medusa Squadrons: Upsilon, Psi and Pi and are causing havoc-nothing can seemingly stop them….’  She trailed off.

It was the gravest possible news-they were not to be the first to deploy these bigger, heavier, ships-their foe had somehow beaten them to it.  If there was ever a need for all of the assembled flyers to complete their training as quickly as possible this was it….

And it's coming today or tomorrow Admiral-just polishing off the prose hehehe 

Battle cam no µµ45AA: ESS Rhea and Tethys close on enemy Frigates

I cant get them to show up in my Screenies folder QR-there is some sort of an issue. 1st I had a nightmare cos the mini Apple keyboard I have doesn't appear to have a screenshot key assigned

I sorted that...

Then I had an issue of where to send the pics which I also sorted and it takes the shot but all I get is a black screen with the Galciv cursor   I have posted this issue to the bugs board and asked for help but no one has responded sadly so I am a bit stumped

Anyway never mind that what did you think of the actual post itself?

I have to ask - just how long has this Torian war been going on, anyway? As I recall, it broke out in one of your first posts and has continued ever since. I don't know about game time, but in post space it's certainly surpassed anything in "The General and the President", except for possibly the Dread Lords conflict.

Looks like the tide may be starting to turn, though...

Mambaman: I know exactly what you mean re the other race in your backyard. An uneasy alliance lingers on methinks

December 8th 2233

The Great Leader's Chambers

The Agora

The normally unflappable Castor Ohirides was running around the Great Chambers like a man possessed,

'Master we have no less than three audiences to get out of the way before you are due to broadcast to all the Colonies! Please bring your meditation to an end I implore you!'

'Calmness my son-all will be well-the mechanics will slot into place 'ere the night is done...' Came the infuriating response.

The devotion that the young apprentice felt for his Daskalos was not in doubt but there were times, like now, when their normally even-tempered relationship was somewhat stretched.  This was not least because the young man, who had recently celebrated his formal accession to manhood, was now widely respected amongst the politicians and military men of The Exiles and had become something of a player in the corridors of power.  When there was a deal to be struck, Zeus despatched his young factotum, when arms needed twisting or words of warning issued, Castor was the man for the job. 

Tonight's tension was more down to the fact that he had arranged for three of the key people in the political set up to have vital meetings with his master before the all-important State of the Colonies Address that was to formally announce the capture of the Torian planet, Leto IV, deep in the heart of their South East systems and one that had been snatched in a straight race with their so called ‘Drengin friends’.  Castor had warned more than a year ago that despite the fact that this warlike race were technically in an informal league with them and had even lent ships and materiel to their cause-he had a feeling that this was a weapon with two edges and one that was apt to come back and strike them before very long.

He had been proved correct early this year when the ISA reported that some of their Intelligence assets reported that the Drengin were gaining the upper hand in their own ferocious war against the green foe.  The evidence of this became all too clear when two Torian worlds deep in their own southernmost systems were attacked and colonised leaving a strong Drengin presence right in the middle of their own sphere of influence.

The situation was grave and hung on a knife edge: there were plenty of Torian systems in their southern and south-eastern systems that were now ripe for plucking as more and more of their Titan Class Destroyer Battlegroups came online and committed themselves to the frontlines.

The youngster had smiled proudly to himself as he recalled conveying Dr Zeus's wishes for prosecution of this naval war across their frontlines and when asked by the oft-cautious Strategos Milites how he wanted to proceed in the sectors that were mixed in with the Torians he had been told curtly 'With extreme prejudice!'

These were orders that commanders such as Hipparchus Christos Sec and newly commissioned and promoted Tetrarch Pollux Ohirides had not been slow to execute and operating with maximum autonomy and a great deal of initiative they had taken the war to the Torians right across the front.  It had been something of a wrench, he knew, for his twin to be separated from his friend by some distance as his command had been despatched to take control of their western flank whilst Sec’s Battlegroup was despatched to their extreme south-eastern one: he had heard that their parting had been emotional but, as he kept reassuring his brother, who surely cannot have dreamed that, at 18 years old he would be commanding a Light Capitol ship with a crew of thirty into battle, they were both proving extremely able battle commanders: they would see each other again.

A loud resonant boom shook Castor from his reverie: that'll be the first visitor then.

'Master please-That will be Trierarch Sampson-right on time as usual! Master!'

The old man, who had been sat cross legged in the middle of the Chamber opened one eye,

'Ah our Admiral Commanding the Western sector? He's an aggressive one that my Mathitis-mayhap just the man to replace the stodgy Milites eh?' This last accompanied by a pronounced wink that only served to irritate the young man even more.

'Please Master get up-it is not becoming that they see you like this!' Castor flung back as he made for the door-even though there was a real deference for the Archigos post it did not do to keep senior officers waiting. Seeing the good Doctor rise and move stiffly to his high backed chair the younger man opened the great chamber door and let in a rather irritated Trierarch Sampson and his immediate staff officers.

'Admiral you are most welcome!' bellowed Zeus from across the Chamber 'I believe you have some reports for me regarding prosecution of the war in our south-western area?'

'That is correct Archigos Zeus-my Commander has also asked that I update you on the immediate situation in the other sectors as well.'

'Proceed Admiral'

A 3D holo image of their area of the galaxy, that was expandable to cover the whole of the universe as they knew it, sprang up between them with the Commander moving around in and amongst it making deft use of his laser pointer detailing how the Destroyer Battlegroups were now reconfiguring to groups of four, now that a logistics enhancement allowed the co-supply and systems linking of four rather than three ships.

'This should make a big difference since the Torian Heavy fighter formations are now typically eight and seven ships...'

Eight and seven! They had been like swarms of angry birds, Pollux had reported to his twin after his first big engagement in the summer off the Lentzlandians’ home planet, where a series of battles had been fought all year.  The young commander had arrived to protect their worlds neighbouring Lentzlandians but only after some heroic last minute blocking and delaying actions by the much lighter Medusa Fighter Squadrons, San and Beta which had thrown themselves, in sacrifice, at two consecutive flights of seven Torian Fighter wings and won despite the loss of all but one of their own.  The blocking had worked as it gave Pollux's Crius BG the time to arrive in theatre and take the fight to the massing Torian Fighter wings.  After the engagement he had been rather flat, though, because, despite the brilliant command of his three ships and despite the fact that he had taken on, in consecutive weeks, two such Torian formations of eight fighters, they had lost one of their own destroyers, the ESS Lapatus, with the loss of all hands.  His brother had been genuinely deflated until reminded that other Battlegroup commanders were routinely losing one ship for every one engagement.

'Your men and women are awaiting your orders my brother' was all he had said and this admonishment had seemed to do the trick dragging the young ship's captain back from whatever gloom he had descended into: for one thing Castor realised, though not a military man, was that for every dead soldier or sailor that an officer lost in this interminable war there were many more yet living that would need firm action and guidance if they were to survive.

‘.... and so the newly constituted Crius Battlegroup has taken up overwatch some fifteen parsecs fore of our Western forward line and quite close to the Torian extreme North east system of  Maia IV, which at this moment looks out on a limb but there is a scout screen moving forward to get eyes beyond that system-'

Castor interjected 'and is my brother in operational command in that sector Trierarch Sampson?'

The Admiral swung about as if affronted at this unseemly interruption, gathered himself and responded in the affirmative, 'Sir your brother has been put in operational command since he is the best we have down there. There are now three Battlegroups operating in that sector with 3 more inbound-once they have all reconfigured there will be a fleet of four Battlegroups to probe southwest from Maia IV'

'This is good news indeed Admiral' Zeus breathed 'and you say the Torian strength in our south and eastern systems has been broken by the combined attacks of us and the Drengi?'

'That is correct Archigos....'

'Then surely we have turned a corner here-I begin to see an end to these hostilities at last, praise the Gods.'

'I think there is much to be done but yes Archigos, I can envisage moving from offensive to more defensive operations within months and then seeing what we want to do about the rump Torian homeworlds many parsecs to our south west.'

At this Dr Zeus bridled: 'Admiral, after two constant years of war and with many countless lives lost you surely cannot be advocating that we prosecute the war into the Torian homeworlds?'

The Admiral was nothing if not deterred, 'Sir what I am saying is that our Intel warns us that the Drengi will take what we don’t and if we allow them to conquer the Torian then we will have a whole new menace and one that is far more implacable and hell bent on domination than these water-dwelling hippos!'

'Admiral I would mind you to watch your tongue when you address the Archigos!' Castor snapped stepping forth from the shadows 'I think you forget yourself Sir!'

It was the steely tone in the much younger man that stopped the Admiral mid-flow.  He was aggressive and ambitious but he was not going to break the back of his career on account of this young upstart.

Dr Zeus had also composed himself,  'you are dismissed Admiral and let us hear no more talk of conquering.'

There was only a brief pause once the military men had gone before another boom sounded.  Aware that his normally placid Master was quite angry, Castor hesitated.

'Answer it my son-I believe that it is the Minister of Finance and that it is not good news.'

Castor was confused 'surely it's our Trade Minister with news of the seven Freighters we have sent to the Drengi and the Iconian Homeworlds master-that's who I had scheduled next?'

'This is not a scheduled call young one-open the door'

And sure enough, on opening the door, there stood the Minister of Finance, one Sandro Alexandros, a denizen of Artemison, a planet in the neighbouring Wodan system some seven parsecs to their north east.  He liked him not this weasel-faced accountant but had so far suppressed any such views from Dr Zeus who seemed to have a strange affection for the man.

Sandro came forward timidly,

'Well-met Sandro?' Zeus called good-naturedly but he knew what was coming and braced himself for it.

'Sir it is with great regret that I report that the treasury coffers are empty-the whole scale mobilisation of this war and the need to continue to build warships and war capacity has now outstripped our ability to raise revenue.  We are....' He paused,

'Come on spit it out man!' Another sharp intervention from Castor.

Startled the Financier jumped. How could such a timid man be controlling the finances of an entire civilisation Castor was thinking-no wonder their cash flow was a mess!

'Sir I must report that we are now four hundred and forty four billion credits in the red with a weekly net loss of a further one hundred and sixty seven billion creds.  All production has had to be halted whilst we put into effect emergency measures to bring our spending under control...'

At this, however, it was not the Great Leader who lost their temper but his young apprentice 'Sirrah!  You are the Comptroller of Finances in this Government-this debacle has happened on your watch! Whilst our brave service personnel are fighting and dying in their droves, my brother included, you now propose to choke off the lifeblood of their money-YOU WRETCH!!!!!  This last was shouted as he crossed the room in a blind rage.

'CASTOR OHIRIDES!' Came the shout from Dr Zeus that halted the young man in his tracks. 'You will leave us! Report to the Broadcast Editor of GNN and let him know that the Broadcast will be delayed. Mr Alexandros and I have matters to discuss in order to work out a way through this'

Abashed and ashamed at this highly uncharacteristic loss of control Castor crept from the chamber, his eyes filled with tears at his display of ire and his heart full of fear of what this new economic threat might presage...

Trierarch Samspon and his staff Arrive at the Archigos's Great Chambers (Security Cam #344433)

I am interested indeed and unless I am missing something (or have forgotten from those many eons ago when I was learning English) but isn't an exclamation mark followed by a Capital letter?

What Have I missed?

22^nd February 2234

Sector 02-18b Many parsecs south of the Exiles southern rim

Aboard Advance Scout Ship 22910 Callsign 'Pegasus'

Sub-Hoplomachos Nicolides Furion frantically adjusted the dials that controlled output from the three powerful sensors that his tiny ship was equipped with. The capability to manipulate his ability to 'see' what was out there was usually the fine line between an abrupt death or the glory that all in the Scout Corps sought-especially when operating this close to the Torian homeworlds...Or where command imagined that the forward edge of those homeworlds must be, in any case.

He had been despatched some months previously, launched from Aphroditon's majestic Cyprus Shipyards along with three others in the Troop.  Their training in the Military Sub-Academy there had been systematic and thorough: it took a very strange fish indeed to volunteer for the Scout Corps with it's limited life expectancy and lonely operating environment.  What Furion had quickly established, when being pushed beyond the limits of exile endurance, was that he and his ilk were wholly engaged, obsessed even, with the pursuit of solitude and all that it meant.  The trick they had learnt was to make others believe that what they were doing was being done for the greater good. The truth was that you were not likely to find a group of more introverted self absorbed individuals in any of the four corners of the galaxy.

But this was precisely why they were good, very good indeed. He and callsigns ‘Triton’, 'Pan' and 'Minotaur' had been tasked to provide the forward screen for no less than four Battlegroups stretching from north-west to south-east under the operational command of the famed boy-captain Pollux Ohirides whose Crius Battlegroup had been the scourge of any Torian Flight stupid enough to stray into its path. 

After providing a protective screen to the massive and lumbering Marine Transports that invaded and conquered Maia IV the combined arms grouping had been given a simple directive:  'FIND THE TORIAN HOMEWORLDS!' Furion remembered vividly the Orders Group aboard Ohirides ship, ESS Crius that January night.  Ohirides, as was his wont, had summonsed all of his fellow Ships Tetrarchs so that they could debate the best route forward. The fact that he had wanted the Scout's there as well meant that it was important...very important indeed.

The Captain's wardroom was not big in a ship that only carried thirty crew, capital ship or no and it had been cramped but Ohirides had asked his orderlies to clear some of his furniture out and they had installed a levito-table just big enough to accommodate the other three Tetrarchs commanding as well as his own Executive Officer, a Lochagos by name of Sirana Drew and the three Scout Pilots. It was tight but cosy. 

'Friends what am I to make of this peremptory but very brief order from command?' Ohirides had asked once all had arrived. All Furion could think of was the two or three hours of kip that he was going to snatch at the end of this group-his precious ship safe as it was, nestled up against the flank of the much larger Light Destroyer.  Sleep was a commodity that was fleeting in his line of work.

The young Tetrarch, junior in years to all present, flashed the EAM onto the holo-screen.  It merely read +++URGENT++++CRIUS COMMAND++++ALL SHIPS++++PRESS SOUTH+++++FIND TORIAN HOMEWORLDS++++MESSAGE ENDS.

And that was it. Short, sweet and extremely ambiguous.  The Fleet Trierarchs were accustomed to allowing their commanders in the field maximum leeway for initiative but this was something else.

'And besides' Ohirides had opined as the debate intensified around him,  'I know for a fact that the Archigos and my brother are not in favour of prosecuting this war to the heart of the enemy-we have only just started to turn the economy around after the privations of last year-maintaining and growing a massive fleet can only hurt us in the long run.'

One of the more Junior Tetrarchs, a woman called Orestes snorted 'By the Gods I never thought to hear such words coming from the lips of the great Pollux Ohirides'

Stung by this assault on her boss Lochagos Drew piped up 'Sir we must tread cautiously-there is no telling what numbers the Torian have amassed in defence of their homeworlds!'

Ohirides far from being insulted, however, was reflective but said nothing. At last when he could stay silent no longer it was Furion who interjected with two weighty words

'The Drengi!'

All eyes swivelled round but at the same time there was an understanding in all of the Officer's faces. Blushing furiously now, Furion hoped against hope that he would not need to justify this impertinent interjection. Luckily it was Pollux Ohirides who spared him,

'I see where the Sub-Hoplomachos is going with this. It is a fear that I have often had. Clearly the rapacious Drengi, who have already made subtle threats of extortion to us and who our ISA reckon to have the largest, most powerful fleet of all the races, are the single biggest benefactors if the Torians fall and we would be left surrounded on three sides by a species that ultimately want to enslave us and all others.'  He paused, thinking.

'Maybe the message was made deliberately ambiguous in order not to offend the sensibilities of those in the Agora who would rather we ended hostilities with the Green foe now' Orestes opined, more measured now.

'Maybe...' Ohirides said and then he was a whirl of orders. The combined task force would sweep an area spanning thirty five to forty parsecs in a line from northwest to southeast. Theia under Tetrarch Ramon Padua would be on the left flank with Crius and Epitimethius, commanded by Demetrios Padakis in the centre and finally, covering their south-east flank was the feisty Tetrarch Alexandra Orestes, newly promoted to lead the Eurybia BG.  It was a formidable force: sixteen destroyers and three scouts. Sadly one of their number, Callsign Triton, had been ambushed two weeks previously by a flight of seven Torian heavy fighters, a situation that was becoming more and more common as they continued their progress southwards.  It was something he had to speak to the young Force Commander about. 

As the meeting broke up with the Captains shouting for their shuttle commanders Furion sidled up to his Ohirides.

'What is it Hoplomachos?'

'Sir I know that you have influence with your brother and therefore with those who are charged with our ship-design...' Furion noted Lochagos Drew craning to hear what he was saying-odd...

'Indeed I do' Ohirides eyed the scout officer warily, 'if you think that means drawing on strings that I am not entitled to-'

'No sir please hear me out.  When my colleague was jumped last week by that Torian force, even though he detected them at the extreme edge of sensor range, he got caught because their ships are using warp engines and ours don't-they are twice our speed so it completely negates the advantage of our sensors.'

Pollux contemplated what was being said 'you are saying that your guys may give us the jump on the enemy formations but they are always likely to catch you-no?'

'Exactly Sir-you need us as experienced scouts not green pilots straight out of Aphroditon's Cadet School.'

There was a new respect in the hard grey eyes of Pollux Ohirides. He gave an almost imperceptible nod and Furion realised that he was dismissed.

That had been January 7^th and since then they had detected, intercepted and engaged no less than thirty one Torian heavy fighters and escorts in five different formations.  The frequency of the attacks suggested that they were certainly headed in the right direction but what was to their front?

Furion's thoughts snapped back to his instruments when proximity warning alarms started sounding. He was an expert at directing his sensors and with the assistance of his tac computer he quickly located a flight of seven headed towards him.  Not a problem he would do what he had done several times already and withdraw towards the following Crius Battlegroup but there was something else-a larger, if somewhat indistinct signal behind the Torians.

'Zero Alpha this is five zero-contact wait out!' The alert sent he slowed his craft and did his best to ignore the Torians that were boring in on him but still far enough away to allow him to withdraw.  His sensor range was a hefty five parsecs-he could actually get closer...

'Zero Alpha enemy: location 0224-1856b. I am taking a closer look-there's something behind them.'

'Zero Alpha roger. Be careful.'

The warning was unnecessary for, of all the scout pilots in his depleted squad (they had lost Sub-Hoplomachos Andreas Togones, Callsign Pan, to a singular piece of carelessness only the previous week), he had the best grasp of spatial mathematics that gave him a forensic insight into exactly how much time he had: he calculated it as around half a day...provided the Torians hadn't upgraded their engines of course!

Intently scanning his readings and moving his craft forward cautiously it was no more than a couple of hours before he had the answer that he was looking for:

'Zero-Alpha, five zero:  planet-fall: locstat 0210-1833b-looks like PQ14!  I think there are more Torians flights in orbit and sheltering behind it-I can loiter here for a few more hours to guide you in, over.'

'Zero-Alpha-good scouting Five Zero. Intel suggests this could be "Ireland"-the forward Torian homeworld planet.  Hold position until you deem it safe-do NOT compromise your own safety-we need you. Charlie Charlie Three Zero and Zero callsigns stand by for orders.'

Furion gave a little smile at this last-if this was Ireland it was the beginning of their discovery and engagement of the Torian homeworlds: it could be the beginning of the end...

Out of curiosity, are you farther ahead than this in the actual game, or did it really take you almost three weeks to play three in-game months?

Also, what's going on with the other races during this Torian war? There hasn't been much heard about any of them but the Drengin.

Sounds interesting, though what I was actually wondering is how close you are to winning - 2234 is fairly late in the game. Do you have any allies (as in actual, formal allies)?

Yeah 'General and the President' went on until 2255 so plenty of gameplay yet....