Humanity has never stood united, you could say it's a flaw in their design. After awhile certain powerful groups are formed, and they wage war against other groups who may or may not have the same goals as the rest.

It's been this way since the Alliance and Coalition war, and no one remembers exactly how that war started, the hatred between Humans has carried over when the sleeper ships have landed in Sirius, with each group rebuilding, and forgetting that they were once united, as the Alliance.

In the year 800 A.S., Humanity was struck by a vital blow, one that had caused the creation of the secret organization known as The Order, the Protectors of Humanity, to finally come out of the shadows, dealing the hand of death to a Rheinland Admiral. Humans weren't alone in the universe anymore, as a newer threat made itself known with what is know called the Nomad War of 800-801 A.S.

Many believe the war had ended with the help of Edison Trent and his companions. Though remnants of the Nomads were still lurking, as well as those who became known as The Wilde.

And still, Humanity has never united itself, as wars are still being waged over the pointless little things that could be solved with talks. People are still getting killed by the Governments who swore to protect them, and the life of an Order Operative is harder than that of an Armed Forces Admiral. Not knowing who you could trust, as everyone is out to kill you for whatever purpose, even your own.

Though, through all the chaos, one man attempts to bring the people together, as a means to defeat an enemy that has survived, and is making a come back, whether Humanity is ready for it, or not. His name? Terrance Regis Chamberlain, and he isn't exactly someone you could look up to.

"You mind telling me who exactly you are?"
"The names Chamberlain, you wouldn't remember me, Director Lawson."

A single lamp hung from the middle of the small room, the light was dim, but bright enough to light up a person who was tied to a chair, and looked half beaten. That man was the former Intelligence Agency of Bretonia's Director, Regis Lawson.

A man stepped into the dim light, "Just so we both have an understanding here, Director, I'm not exactly one of the people who looks forwards to killing a fellow human being, and I don't like hurting people, but you put up one helluva fight, Director." He said, bringing his hand to his lip, which was cut. "Understand, that I really only wanted to ask you a couple of questions, not interrogate you. After all we're both Bretonians."

"I'm not going to answer any of your damn questions, my Agents will find us, and they will kill you." The Director said.

"I know the inner-workings of the IAB, Director, it'll take them a while to figure out where we are, and by that time, you'll be free, if you just cooperate with me. Now, I want to know something very, very simple." Terrance smiled lightly as he circled the Director.

"And that is what?"

"I'd like to get my hands on those papers that you keep on the Newcastle structure. After all, it's probably one of the most secured locations in Bretonia, and Sunderland is ripe with information." Terrance replied lightly.

"You're not getting your hands on those papers. Who the hell do you think you are?"

"A friend." He stated as he stepped behind the Director and untied the mans hands. "By the time you come back here looking for me," He said, "I'll be gone, your Agents will never find me, you'll probably never see me again. That is, if you can get off this planet. Now, tell me what I need to know."

It was a long night, non-the-less, as the questioning continued. Terrance had gotten the information he wanted, but he wouldn't act on it. Not until the time was right. A lone operative working a dangerous task, one that was never assigned to him, as he never took orders from the Order High Command, and wouldn't begin to do so. He was in fact one of the most independent pilots working the field, and had claimed Sirius as his playground.

For the longest time, he had worked by himself on the field, only having a few friends who each had their own tasks that they completed, also having to survive with what he had on hand, and his own wits. His last partner had disappeared off the face of Sirius after investigating into Cardamine and it's properties, this partner had hit a theory that Cardamine made the Nomads mind control stronger on a subject that uses. Though, without proper evidence, he doubted that would hold its own when brought to the Order High Command. He assumed his partner was dead, and he had every right to believe that.

He's had a few run-ins with death itself, quite a few. In fact, probably more than the average person, as every one in the Universe hated his guts, or wanted his head on a platter because of who he worked for, and his policy has changed to the point where he wouldn't bother pulling the trigger on a fellow human, even if that person wanted him dead. Even a few within the ranks of the primary fleet thinks he's a traitor to Humanity.

He was on a crusade, and he knew it would kill him sooner, than later. But what else was there to do? Humanity had to stand united against this alien menace, and a lot of people stood between him and his goal.

He was an idealist, and he wasn't afraid of telling those in High Command that they were wrong. It would probably get him shot one of these days.

Even though Director Lawson had given him the information he needed, he knew he wasn't going to even act on it instantly. There wasn't any point in doing so.

The sad thing about all this, was the continued effort of The Order getting shot at by every person. Though, Terrance was proud in the aspect of, he was one of the lucky ones. Aside from that, Terrance famed himself to be the protector of the Sirian houses, and enjoyed flying around familiar space, rather than space that seemed foreign and alien to him, though he avoided Kusari space, for certain reasons.

Recently, things have began to change, with his infiltration into the Liberty's National Guard, and the effect that had on his entire personal crusade, was staggering. He was even surprised to find himself into an Admiral position the moment the fleet was activated. Which, he hadn't really figured out how he got it. Though, he didn't care.

He sighed, leaning back in the chair and looking at the paperwork in front of him. This new double life was getting to him slowly, though he kept it in check, at least, no one else knew about this. He'd probably be shot, if anyone found out. He even found pride in his alias.

However, it wasn't something he wanted to do, nor something he wanted to keep doing, though it gave him a better chance on getting closer to quite a few people, and he would hope to make his move soon enough, once he made the proper introductions to the Lincoln Research Institute. But for now, those plans were better kept a secret, from both the National Guard, and The Order.

He leaned forwards again and tapped the pen against the paper, preferring to do things the old fashion way, rather than on a computer, which had a lot more openness to it. He began writing, or attempting to draft a proper proposal to the Director of Bowex. He found it a bit stupid to rush ahead with his ideals in trying to gather some allies, or some friends, to provide some aid to The Order, at least in an attempt to prove that they weren't the terrorists that everyone saw them as.

There were a couple of more steps on his agenda, the next would be to contact that bastard Bretonian hero. Who apparently was last seen in Liberty, though has since disappeared. He looked over at the legal pad next to him with the list, and crossed the mans name out. While that kid had experience with the Wilde, and possibly Nomads, he wasn't going to be cut out for the job, if he was dead.

Contacting possibly allies in Gallia, would shine brighter, if he didn't find their society revolting, both literally and figuratively, plus from what he had heard, the Order's High Command already tried, and kinda failed.

He sighed once more and leaned back, dropping the pen on the table. "Bunch of useless buggers all of them." With that, he pushed himself out of the black leather chair, and walked over to the nearby bunk and collapsed in it. There was plenty to do around Liberty, in regards to their national defense, though he really didn't want to deal with inexperienced boys and girls who found shooting other people exciting and fun.

He was also a bit displeased in witnessing an open attack against Liberty from The Order, a couple of days back at Fort Bush. Terrance knew he was playing with fire, on both sides of the field, and he knew one wrong move either way would be the end of everything he's tried, has, or will accomplish. Not to mention the headache from all of it.

Though, that was the life he was going to live, a dangerous one, and his next move would be costly.

A Nephthys fighter hung in stationary orbit high above Manhattan, looking down on the planet. The Capital of Liberty, populated by billions of people, and even millions more coming and going between the universal trade, between the houses. It was the hub of Sirius, settled in the middle of Sirius, and the middle of the might Liberty Republic.

Virtually billions upon billions of people, on that little rock, and hardly any of them knew of the sacrifices being made in their own names, by people they would consider terrorists. Terrorists. The word was loosely used in this day and age. Anyone who disrupted the flow of commerce through violent means or attempt social unrest were considered terrorists. Sadly, that included his own organization, and him.

Prior to being recruited into The Order, he worked as a counter-terrorist Agent for Military Intelligence Section Five, a job he wished he would have never of left, though, the proposal of helping humanity entirely was something he couldn't have let go.

From hunting terrorists, to being called one. He shook his head at the rough day he had. Accidentally screwing up a flight path that took him into the scanning range of a Commodore Robinson, and thankfully not being killed by the Navy pilot, to getting stopped while enroute to a meeting, by the Bretonian Police, of course, the meeting was canceled due to him being late. Though, life went on.

After all that, he made his way back to New York, where a couple of Junkers were insulting him, and demanding to know what he was doing, which he of course didn't bother saying as it wasn't any of their business. Of course, that didn't turn out well when he started moving away from Rochester. If he actually had to go against his own vows of not killing a fellow human, at least, while being officially active, he would've dropped the Junker then and there. Though, that would've made the High Command annoyed at him, if they weren't already. He didn't care none-the-less.

He learned a few things today, though, he already knew the lessons they held in them. Starters, it seemed people were either glad he was doing what he was doing, putting his life out on the line to ensure the safety of the human race. Unless he considered taking Robinson's words to heart, about saving humanity from itself. Now, having the free time to actually think clearly, he would have to agree with the lass. Humanity needed to saved, not just from the Nomads, but from itself as well. He shrugged, another fighting for another time. One he wasn't going to bother entering in.

The other lesson, was apparently not all nomads were harmful, though, it didn't exactly shock him when he crossed an unarmed nomadic morph classed entity. Fragile little things hardly had the firepower to take on a skilled Agent, and this one seemed a bit different. Something he was sure to make note worthy, for himself, as he felt the Order High Command was still in it's infant stage of development, also having to deal with constant threats from the Navy, its own internal conflicts, the Hunters, and the Nomads, as well.

So many people on one planet, that hardly knew what was going on in the background. Maybe it was nearing the beginning of a change. He desired more wiggle room, more space to breath. Something, somewhere, was starting to crack.

Glancing at his watch, he realized it was getting late, and he had quite a bit of paperwork to cover. Sighing lightly, he took one last glance at Manhattan, and it's beauty from afar, before he engaged cruise and disappeared towards Rochester, to be fully integrated back into the society of the every-day citizen of Liberty.

"It'll cost a couple thousand credits to fix those repairs, specially with that type of ship. I doubt we have the parts here for such an advanced vessel."
"Just repair what you can."
"Alright..she'll be ready in a few hours. Don't count on her being in mint condition."
"It's fine."

Terrance sighed heavily as he turned away from the mechanic as he went back to work on the Nephthys fighter. Stepping out from the hangar, he sighed looking up at the white, clean, skies of Gran Canaria, a random planet that was populated by Zoners, and Corsairs, close to house space, but far out of their reach, should they attempt to arrest him for whatever reason.

He began wandering away from the hangar, his hands in his pockets as he went along. "Damn Corsairs." He muttered under his breath, the recent experience in Omega-5, and Omega-47 was hell for him, he wasn't getting anywhere with his agenda, only pissing off more and more people as he went, now he probably had the entire Corsair Empire pissed off at him for not answering a pathetic answer. One of which, he did answer, just not to the fullest.

He was a Bretonian at heart, and his prior service in Military Intelligence didn't help the fact that he still absolutely hated the Corsairs, and would love to sit there and insult them every day of the week. But, he started to force himself to think differently about them, after all, he felt a bit sorry for them and their dying population. A little bit.

He was here on an important mission, much more for himself than anyone else. Find some land not being used, far away from the local Zoner, Bretonian and Corsair populations, and setting up a research facility, for his own purposes. Of course, all of this would be something hard to accomplish for one man, which is why he just wanted to buy the plot of land, and let it sit there until it was time to use it. No doubt in his mind, that High Command wouldn't approve, nor would the Zoners.

Terrance didn't care if anyone would approve, he was still going to go for it, ultimately upsetting a lot more people than he wanted to, but that was life, and he was more than willing to risk everything for his agenda. Saving Humanity from the Nomads. Oddly enough, he probably would care, if he had gotten to the planet on time, and wasn't shot at by a careless and pathetic Corsair.

He needed to figure out how to operate within the Omega systems without causing to many problems for himself, and he needed to figure that out as quickly if he wanted to succeed in his goal. Everything would slowly begin falling in place, he just really needed to start reaching out to people who would support his cause, or at least he hoped would support his cause.

The next thing on his list, kidnapping some Doctors and Researchers. That task, would be hell if things didn't go right, and something was bound to screw his plans up.

Freeport One was a rowdy place, the victory of the latest battle made people here celebrate, though, who they were celebrating for was completely unknown to Terrance.

He sat over in a corner by himself and took a sip of hot tea as he over looked the data-pad, re-reading the recent outbreak of war between Bretonia and Rheinland. He never actually received orders to come down to Freeport One and provide mutual defense, but his gut feeling told him something larger was happening, and that this was more than just a border dispute between the two houses.

Rheinland's military seemed to be in full mobilization. Though those details he didn't quite know. On the other hand, Bretonia began conscripting thousands of new soldiers into the Armed Forces, and began collecting scrap to rebuild ships. Military production for both houses seemed to take a turn at the sudden spike in conflict. Then, there was that idiot who surprisingly managed to get a few people behind his revolutionary idea. Betraying his Crown because Rheinland fired the first shots? He was either insane, daft, or in bed with a Rheinlander, Terrance guessed that the lad was just insane.

He sighed lightly and looked over at the crowd in the bar, still celebrating and cheering as if they won a high school football game. Seemed he was the only person here actually working, and not for the defense of the station.

The Order was deploying reserved units to provide a mutual defense of Freeport One, after Rheinland apparently had attacked the station, and Terrance witnessed himself a large spike in Wilde activity since the beginning of this so called 'War'. It wasn't just a coincidence to him, but he needed more proof that they were behind it. Only person that would most likely believe him would be his wingman, Liam, some fresh pilot who managed to provide some decent piloting skills a while back.

So far, his gut feeling seemed to be wrong. But he was determined to solve it, and that of course meant he was going to need to be on his toes.

Word had reached him that Caja Collister, a long time standing member of the Order High Command, recently retired from the position, and possibly the Order itself. There wasn't anything more he could do but curse under his breath, and slam his fist on the nearby table. Which is exactly what he had done.

"Damn it."

This Organization was a fragile thing, and she seemed to be the only one keeping it together, even though he didn't really know her, and only met her a couple of times. It seemed she was one of the Admirals who actually liked Terrance for his motivation and his style, if you could call it that, then again, he was probably making that up just to make himself feel a bit better.

Things were going to get harder from this point forwards, considering the fact that he just enlisted the help of a former Agent who had gone rogue for whatever reason, that he didn't care about, and the fact that he made an idiotic promise to save some thirteen year old girl from Malta, and that in itself was going to be a hard task to complete.

A lot was going on at the moment, having to aid an Armed Forces pilot trying to get her sister back, his gut feeling telling him something more was going on behind the Bretonian-Rheinland conflict, being 'hired' to provide information for a certain group, which, he thought was a horrible idea, and was a bit annoyed that he was influenced by five million credits. On top of all that, he still needed to get Doctors together to help research the effects of Cardamine, and what causes nomadic influence on people who aren't infected.

Oh, and he still needed to unite humanity without making things even harder for himself. Things were going to get hectic in the coming weeks, and he seemed to be the only Order Agent wanting to do anything about it. Everyone else was either caught up in their fictional war with the Liberty Navy, or the Guild Core, and now defending Freeport One, openly, never-the-less.

He sighed, standing up and holstering his pistol. Heading for his ship. He needed to get his own priorities straight, and that would come after saving this little girl, no matter what.

The loss of Toledo along with a majority of the fleet had left a sour taste in his mouth. Not because he wasn't prepared for it, not because it was another group of human beings, but because the Order Primary Fleet had failed at it's job to ensure that something on the scale of Toledo wouldn't happen.

Toledo, and the space around it, a barren grave yard. The Nomads had a new toy... and Toledo was the first major loss for humanity in this invisible war. It also showed that the Nomads had the ability to strike harder and faster without much of The Order being able to quickly extinguish the threat. Him being gone for as long as he was, had did nothing in favor of humanity.

However, in recent days he has done more than most of the members in the primary fleet could do in their life times, spreading the word of the fall of Toledo had brought some allies to the playing field, individual pilots... people who know and have seen the Nomads first hand, but it wasn't enough.

Starting small was his best task, he had already contacted several members within the Liberty Security Forces, Liberty Navy, and a couple of sister Freelancers - both of whom offered to help his crusade. He was facing the fact that the current skirmishes between Liberty and Order vessels, on top of the war with the Guild Core wasn't helping them at all, so he took it upon himself to start acting, as no one else in the Order primary would budge their fingers, or break ties with the Corsairs.

The Corsairs... he hated them due to his prior service in the Military Intelligence for Bretonia, but he had a burning rage for when none of their ships appeared at the Battle of Toledo. The Corsairs... were cowards that he always expected them to be, and his thoughts weren't going to change that.

His eyes rested gently on the Eagle fighter that he had parked next to, it belonged to Julia Wright, one of the Freelancer sisters who personally contacted him after he met her sister. The girl had a decent head on her shoulders, and had passed his first test with relative ease, though he knew things were going to progressively get harder... especially with the plan that he had in mind... his other agenda that he did not bother telling people about. The next time Julia was with him, he would ask her what her opinion on kidnapping is, and would most likely send her off to deal with it.

Though for starters, he would continue to test the girl to see what her strengths and weaknesses were. The second test was about to start as a small smile crossed his lips, his eyes gazed down to the console in front of him as he began system checks. He had a few things to do...

Before him laid a pistol that was in several pieces. His eyes quietly studied it as his hands started working on putting the pistol back together in a quick and timely fashion. Forty seconds, his watch said the moment he sat the reassembled pistol back on the table in front of him. Forty seconds that he could have spent doing something else, like getting back to sleep.

Though the truth is he couldn't find himself going to sleep, not with an important assignment being laid out in front of him, and not with his mind racing through all of the possible strategies he was going to have to use. Getting to the Admiral wasn't the thing on his mind, as he's spoken with plenty of Admirals before, which he hasn't had a problem with yet. He was confident he wouldn't exactly fail in his diplomacy with Admiral Davis, though having a back up plan surely would be handy, and assassination or blackmail may just be the thing to further the goals of The Order. He shook his head slowly, pushing the pistol to the other side of the table. Neither blackmail or assassination was going to help them. Diplomacy is the key, and he already proved to be a smooth talker.

The other assignment, on the other hand, was where the challenged laid. At this moment he had absolutely no information other than where he could expect to see her, the composition of her body guards, who she helped, and that she was under alien influence. Oh, and the fact that she's the sister of Michal Golanski.

Surprisingly, Golanski didn't want his sister dead, and as equally as surprising he pitied Golanski for not having the guts to kill his sister when he had the chance. Though, something else was bothering him, something that shouldn't bother him, but it did. Golanski had specifically contacted him with these assignments. The one Order operative in the entire organization that did things without consent of The Order High Command, who thought himself outside the chain of command of The Order itself - out side of the politics that were present within The Order itself, and here he was... accepting an assignment from the very Organization he insults every chance he gets.

Something was wrong and he couldn't place it.

His eyes rested on the pistol once more, pushing those thoughts out of his head as a light smile appeared on his lips, one that wasn't devilish or had malicious intent behind it. The smile was genuine as he thought about how Julia had handled herself in a situation that could have ruined her life, or killed her. Going out of your way to kidnap someone wasn't something a normal person would do, especially for a cause they just jumped in on. She had followed his instructions to not harm the requested target - himself - and even managed to get the target - again himself - out of Bretonia, without actually kidnapping the target - once more himself.

This one was promising, and he hope she'd prove her usefulness in the near future. Or else he would have to kill her, or at least lie and say he did.

They were going to wait on Rochester until the time was right to mobilize, which at this rate, would be well within a couple of days or a week at the most.

Terrance allowed himself a bit of luxury, having gone against his own word to leave a note or transmission to his companion informing her of his departure from the location that they were staying at, in this case it was Trafalgar again. Although, he found himself strolling through a random forest on Planet Cambridge. Seeing as such luxury was hard to afford in this day-and-age.

With the first assignment being a rather successful one - both for his organization and himself - he had managed to convince the Admiral not to order any further attacks on Order wings operating within the region, and completed his own personal goal of informing Bretonia about the fall of Toledo, which was part of an attempt to gather more allies for the coming war that was just on the horizon, a war he wanted to stop before it got out of hand. His concerns on that front fell with Rheinland and Kusari, he just needed to convince a few more people of various organizations within these two houses, before finally attempting Gallia, which... became a new player in his crusade.

Sadly enough, Kusari was going to be a hard one.

Shaking the thought of being tortured by a feather out of his mind, he smiled lightly looking around at the mysterious scenery that presented itself before him. The dark forest brought back childhood memories of spending so many nights camping outside. He allowed himself this one luxury, knowing that it maybe the last he'll ever get, due to either being killed, captured, or Cambridge being turned into a giant slab of molten rock.

A luxury he didn't want to waste.

Prior to leaving Trafalgar, he watched some gun-cam footage that Julia had given him to review her combat skill. She wasn't a horrible pilot, infact, she made him look like a horrible pilot. Such piloting skills were worth having for the up-and-coming war with the K'hara, and would really help in any anti-Wilde operations that may take place during this quiet time period. He felt better knowing she could hold her own in combat, not having to worry about the twenty-four year old as much. Although, he wasn't sure about her sister, he felt it wasn't necessary for both of them to be able to hold their own, seeing as his plans for her sister weren't as burden heavy as the ones he would give to Julia.

Snapping of nearby branches had caused him to freeze in his tracks with his eyes quietly searching the darkness, only to find a pair of yellow eyes staring back towards him, and he recognized the eyes quickly enough as the Cambridge equivalent of a Florida Panther, a very rare animal. A species that had been nearly wiped out by Humanity, and the MOX bombing of forgotten terrorist organization known as the Phantoms.

A very similar situation was presented with Humanity and the K'hara, a situation that would fit for both sides. Considering the K'hara after the Nomad Wars were in the same position this panther was in - the entire species nearly being wiped out. However, the roles this time were highly reversed... it was humanity that would be an endangered species, unless humanity actually fought back.

His eyes continued to stare straight into the eyes of a beast that could kill him in seconds, his breathing was shallow, and his body remained still. The slightest move or hesitation would make the animal either attack, or run away, of course his mind told him that the animal was thinking the same thing as they both held their ground mere feet away from each other.

The moonlight slowly shined through the trees as a thick cloud cover moved away, with the light he could see the majestic animal before him, it's brown coat dim in the light. Surprisingly enough, the panther wasn't about to pounce, instead, it took a couple of steps backwards, before disappearing into the forest, the crunching of leaves growing distant as he stood there listening.

Here... he compared himself to that of Humanity, and the Panther to the K'hara. If Humanity would come together and hold it's ground against this common threat, then the K'hara may just take the hint and vanish without a trace. Though that was unlikely to happen, with a sigh escaping his mouth as he started back on his path through the forest.

As he was making his way back to his the Griffin, he thought on what Junko Sanada had said to him, that sooner or later he would find himself in the position where diplomacy and smooth talking wouldn't save his ass, that he would have to kill a fellow human being to ensure his goals were met. Terrance knew that day was fast approaching, and just like any other challenge he would face it head on.