(( //thanks to the owner of the DarkstarTwo for participating in our story and letting me define some things about her captain! Please give all comments by PM, constructive praise, critiscism and suggestions appreciated, no replies here please.//))
**Prolouge**
Derek Altair walked into the Rochester bar like he owned the place.
At 6 foot 7 and 38, with a ruddy visage and wild blond hair, he felt as young as the day he bought his first fighter.
Incidentally he hadn;t flown a fighter in two years. For sure, he loved the adrenaline of the chase and the kills and the freedom, but he had discovered a new occupation.
Smuggling.
The thrills kept on coming, it paid in spades, he mustve met half the craziest people in Sirius, seen the best vistas, and even if the ion storms ever got him, the law sure wouldn't.
After only a few highly illicit and adrenaline soaked runs in a dumpy old Taiidan GMG scrap heap, he had acrrued enough credits to purchase something worthy of flying. A chipper little armored transport that he had christened the "Darkstar Two"
The GMG freighter had been the Darkstar one, and aside from the 3 million credits burning a hole in his neural net, the ionic infections on the hull had literally eaten away the entire starboard stabilizer.
The DS-II was faster and more agile than most transports, and what she lacked in a sheerly over-kill sized hold, she made up for in armor plating and turrets.
Early on he had learned that corporate and criminal VIPs would pay surprisingly vast amounts to be transported to all kinds of questionable destinations illegaly and off the books. 'no questions asked., what do you say to half a million and we forget my name, thank you very much'
It was all well and good with Derek. It kep the coffe coming and maybe, just maybe, he would have enough money soon to invest it in something useful.
But what? He didnt want another fighter, this smugglers life suited him well, and an upgraded transport would bring nothing but grief in upkeep costs and attention.
Meanwhile he was taking Sirius' big cheese head honchos to the capital of scum and villany, Malta itself, and running back sealed crates which he assumed contained Cardamine.
The very thought of the substance made him sick.
He had once tried it... and nearly given in. But fortunately a 3 month stint in a medical bay after inhaling 40 litres of plasma coolant will break a man of a habit surprisingly fast.
From then on derek never saw the Outcasts the same way, He increasingly fell in with the Corsairs, though junkers were supposed to be 'neutral'
In a way, he reflected as he ordered a triple shot espresso from the barkeep, he was killing two ships in one shot. Dump the jerkiest corporate cheeses on the scummiest addictee criminals. And let them eat eachothers hearts out. They deserved it, Meanwhile spreadind cardamine was one habit he couldnt break himself of. The sealed crates simply paid too much.
But he was close. Especially after that last run in with the Bretonians on the way to Glasgow. He was lucky he had run into what must have been the only kind officers in Her Mjesty's corps.
Even the DS-II was no match for a superiorly crafted Bretonian gunboat. 30,00 metric tons of hurt.
He asked himself again why he was back in Liberty. The only scum-hole worse tham Malta in his mind.
Then the coffe brought it back 'oh yeah...' the shout rang out across the bar, "Derek!"
'my brother. crap'
Kephal Altair was a read headed, red bearded stocky fellow with a temper to match the color of his follicles. And he was Derek's older brother by two months.
Incidentally Derek was here because of Kephal.
The blond headed man sighed, "Kephal... Im sorry in advance..."
WHAM! he delivered a jaw snapping jab to the side of Kephal's head, resulting in a roar of surpise and anger.
"WHAT IN #@$)$#@*)% WAS THAT FOR?!?!" Kephal shouted in his thick scottish accent, "AHL HAVE YER HIDE STAPLED TO MAH WINGS YA KEN?!?!"
Derek rolled his eyes, "Its your fault you son of a bi-hulled barge... if not for you and your issues Id be back in the Tau's right now making serious profit!"
Kephal wiped a trickle of blood from his chin, and muttered, "not that yeve got anything tae do with them credits.." then louder,
"Mah issues? ya fool brother... whos tha one a throwin punches at his own kith and kin? Fer no reason?"
Derek snorted, "No reason? explain this."
he slammed a data tablet down on the bar.
Kephal read it;
'TO; Mr Derek Altair, Master of the vessel Darkstar Two
FROM; Bounty Hunter's guild, 5th wing, second division, division commander
Subject; your brother
message;
Dear Mr Altair,
This message is to inform you that your brother was recently involved in an altercation in the bar of the LNS Mississippi with 4 of my men. Security footage clearly shows that he provoked the attack, but since he seems... unable to pay the requisite fine, his ship has been impounded. You have been notified at his request in the hopes that you might, "Assist yer own kin"
Sincerely,
Mark Flint, 5th wing, second division commander, Texan Bounty Hunters.'
Kephal stared... "Nae! Nae! Its a LIE! I have no even been ta Texas in that last MONTH!"
Derek snorted again, "You expect me to... my god man... youre serious?"
Kephal nodded. For all his flaws in Derek's eyes, the man knew his own brother, and he was no liar. On the contrary, any fight he started Kephal would want to take credit for. And besides he would want his Falcon back if it had really been impounded....
Kephal had been raised by a friend of the Family on Leeds, he had grown up in a scottish roots home and retained signs of it proudly.
Their foster parents had been poor, pooer than their biological, and dead, parents.
They had been killed in a Xeno raid when Derek was only three weeks old.
So their foster parents had adopted them both, but being unable to sustain them both, they had sent Derek off to Liberty Naval Academy..
But he had swiftly broken ranks, been pegged for insubordination, and gotten cashiered out.
He fell in with the Junkers not long after and they set him on his feet and helped him buy his first fighter...
He and Kephal had come so far since then...
Kephal now flew as a mercenary freelancer bound only by his supply of credits and drinks, and his own code of honor. Which was why this incident made no sense.
Kephal looked up from the padd to derek, "Ah think we've been had right good this time brother. Oh by the way..." WHAM, "I owed ye. Ya Ken?"
Seldrin Griffith was tall and agile with blond hair and the extremely unusual feature of piercing golden eyes.
Right then he was boring into the man across the table with those eyes, and he could tell he was winning the argument.
"allright! Ill tell you what I know!"
Seldrin smiled, the man had broken. In the next half hour he poured out every last detail on several well known and badly wanted smugglers.
Stepping out of the interrogation room Seldrin smiled at the captain,
"You did good in there Griffith. We need to make some final arrangements, but with that you are almost
officially a detective in the LPI. Get yourself a coffe, then get freshened up for your interview."
This was Seldrin's third operation in as many days, he had been put through a rigorous recruitment process,
and was almost certified as a full member of the Liberty Police.
But the interview with his department director was still to come...
Seldrin loved his job, loved it as much as life itself, and the principles that drove him to it he loved even more.
"Enemy contact on scopes!" The voice crackled through his headset, the extra slight distortion was being caused by the tradelane.
"Between West Point and Manhattan!"
Seldrin instinctively jammed the throttle back to zero and spiraled out of the lane, sure enough there was one of those Xeno scum.
In a ship that far outmatched his little Liberator.
As far as Seldrin was concerned, he had no choice.
He yanked back on the thruster lever as hard as it would go, flipped the fire control switch to 'ARMED',
eset his HUD, and said a quick prayer....
The first blast from the enemy nearly fused his shield's capactior to its housing, he jammed into a tight strafe, looped around and got behind the scum and opened up on him. But this one was clever.
Unusual for a Xeno.
He cut his thrust pivoted and again drained Seldrin's shield.
"Requesting assist!" Seldrin spoke calmly albiet rather loudly into the joint LSF, LPI, LN channel.
The Xeno whirled and took a chunk the size of a small cargo pod out of his right fin.
Seldrin spun and opened up with what was left of his weapons, but by that time it was too late.
He jammed the ejection switch to commit and said, "Coputer initiate ejection cycle"
The G forces were like nothing else he had quite experienced, and if that wasnt bad enough, now all that was between him and the negative 30 Kelvin vaccum was a flimsy escape-pod-like 'suit', the standard ejection mechanism that deploys over pilots who eject from small craft.
He cleared his canopy not a moment too soon, the Xeno's cannons ripped into his ship shredding it into alloy and polycarbide dust.
He was sure the Xeno would come back around for his pod, but before he could a wing of Heavy Naval fighters cruised out of the debris field and taught him the real meaning of atomization.
Seldrin found time to smile, even if he desperately needed to use the facilites all of the sudden....
//This, like all chapters to this story, is heavily based on actual server events and names and conversations, if any of the players involved wish me to
leave them out, or wish me to alter the actions and words of their character to some extent, I am willing, please notify me by PM//
Chapter Two;
"LPCS Consequence this is LPI-Gamma-12, providing escort over."
"Roger Mr Griffith, switching to your escort in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... now"
The liner pivoted out of formation with the LNS Wabash and her patrol group and in under Seldrin with perfect grace.
Ironic considering her size and the nature of her rather Un-graceful cargo.
The Consequense was a Prison ship that would have done old-earth fort Knox proud, and she was loaded to the stem bolts with the scum of Liberty.
Which made her a prime target. Which concerned Seldrin since he had charge of her saftey until they reached the inner cordon of Zone 21.
He had never been authorized for operations in that area, but the CO of the Retribution had sent a temporary authorization.
Seldrin was floored by the Man's calm compusre with flagrantly violating paragraphs worth of Navy and LSF protocol at the drop of a hat.
But he wasn't complaining, he had always wondered what lay behind the errie minefield that must have taken years to fully construct.
As the Consequence neared the edge of the field Seldrin tapped his mic, "Gamma-12 to Consequence, verify entry trajectory!"
They were seemingly headed right into a wall of mines!!
The officer at the Consequence's conn was rock steady, "Verified, hold formation."
Seldrin braced for the shock of an impact he visually knew was coming, but at the last possible second, the mines melted away to reveal a passage....
"Ingenious!" he mumbled under his breath. His mind sprang into gear calculating and extrapolating the possible methods for such an incredible ploy...
Seldrin had always loved technical things, ships, guns, gates, lanes, processors... he had stuided them all in as much detail as he had time for.
One of the other officers in the group, a Naval fellow named Hastings who was already inside the zone responded, "Mind you LPI, none of this exists. Clear?"
Seldrin licked his now very dry lips as spiky spheres of destruction wizzed past on either side, "Clear. Sir."
They flew on for some moments, the errie and annoying clicking of the proximity sensor creating a perfect backdrop to the dim lighting and foreboding aspect of the field.
When they finally came to the center of the immense field, it took Seldrin a solid 10 seconds and two double takes to confirm what he was seeing.
The Navy and LSF had always seemed forthright when they said there was a maximum security prison station, command base, and weapons test range back here.
There was no such thing.
Instead, just past Hasting's, and the Retribution, loomed a jumpgate with two massive weapons platforms standing guard. As if the battle-carrier wasnt enough.
Seldrin heard Hastings speak to the Consequence, "The rest of the force has jumped through and is either waiting for us or occupied.."
Then he spoke directly to Seldrin. "Mr Griffiths transferring the Consequence from your formation. Standby here with the Retribution."
Seldrin stared, and stared and finally spoke, "Acknowledged... uh.. So.. I assume this gate doesnt exist either?"
As Hastings and the Consequence shot through the Gate's open vortex his last words echoed across the comm, "What gate?"
Seldrin was now all alone with the Retribution. In the middle of a highly secure minefield bigger than all the nebulae in New York combined. In front of a jumpgate that shouldnt exist to a system that existed only in rumor.
And everything the Navy and LSF had ever told him and his superiors about all this, in good faith, was a lie. What a great way to start the shift.
It would take Seldrin a long, long time to forget that day. The screams and sounds of carnage that echoed across the open comm channel, the officers shouting about names and places that shouldnt exist... couldnt exist. And the voice.
It seemed to echo across the channel and into his very mind, sapping the life right out of him.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Eventually the battle group returned to New York with the Consequence. They calmly exited the Zone 21 minefield without a word, and dispersed to their standard duties.
The Consequence returned to Mahattan, apparently one of the pilots had nearly been killed back there. And Seldrin wanted to know why.
He had the strange sinking feeling he wasnt going to get any answers.
And he was right.
Seldrin's shift the next day was no better than the last.
First he had to deal with an insane 'Hunter AI controlled gunship pasting a military officer to his cockpit for no apparent reason. If that wasnt enough, the explanation this clearly rampant AI stated for his actions was "The prescense of nomad weaponry." bloody peculiar.
And then his world changed. forever.
He had just finished a patrol loop of the New York system and noticed that the AI gunboat had been taken under the auspices of the Honor, a well known Guild starship.
That at least finally settled the matter of the rampant AI. But Seldrin wasnt buying the whole 'nomad' business.
Seldrin parked his ship in Manhattan orbit right where he could sacn any ships entering and leaving the tradelanes, and uncorked a thermos of Coffee.
He savored the first long rich ships, before taking in several large gulps.
Then he sat back to watch the traffic, and listen to the comm buzz.
One unit in particular caught his eye. The pilot was tagged as Petresun, and he was flying in the company of a very sleek arwing. Seldrin was kinda partial to arwings, so he quietly tapped into their comms.
".... I tell you the mess these nomads cause gets worse every day, why..."
Seldrin felt no need to listen any further.
He jammed the lid back on his thermos, smacked the autopilot controls to off, and hit the thrusters.
"You Petresun, this is Officer Seldrin Griffiths please cut your engines and standby for a cargo scan."
Seldrin actually did scan his cargo, but found nothing untoward, then he switched to an encrypted one to one comm. "Look, you know who these nomads are? no explanation, were being watched. just yes or no."
"...Yes"
"Can we discuss it somewhere less.. obtrusive?"
"How about Pittsburgh?"
"Ill see you in 10 minutes"
Seldrin switched his headset back to local comms. "Mr Petresun you are all clear, proceed."
Then he thrusted to the Westpoint Tradelane and shot away from Manhattan at 1.25c
Petresun headed the other way, direct via Ft Bush.
When he arrived on the dark side of Pittsburgh, Seldrin was as strung out as a Hacker who's taken one too many shots of cardamine.
"Ok Mr Pretresun, you got my attention. Ive been involved in some off business lately, and If you're willing I want to know everything there is to know about these 'nomads' and how its involved with Zone 21, and the 'purple squids' so called. Let me be clear, this is strictly off record."
The man opened the visual link, and nodded.
"Allright, lets start with the basics."
Seldrin breathed a huge sigh of relief. Maybe now, he would get some real answers.
Petresun continued, "Far as I can tell, the Rheinlanders let these things loose. Cracked open a hive of them under the crust of an uncharted planet or somethin."
Seldrin tried to keep breathing steadily, "Are they.... alien? I thought all traces of alien life in this sector besides the Artifact aliens were gone.... but... these are actually...?"
Petresun nodded, "We call 'em Nomads, they're some sort of protector species.
Theyre about as alien as they get, rumor is that after the Sleeper ships made planetfall here, that a smaller military ship came from Sol. The official story is that the crew was dead..
but rumor has it they were alive, and that they brought tales of this 'nomad' species. and that they had destroyed Sol."
Seldrin gaped.
Petresun went on, "Theres more. These Nomads are some kind of species created by the aliens that left the artifacts. That gate you saw? it leads to a system called Alaska, the LSF and Navy run some bases there, but whats worse is that Alaska is only a system away from the Nomads outposts in the Edge Nebula."
"WHAT?!"
"Oh yes. The gate in '21 is some kind of experimental long-range device, and the Navy had no idea what they were gettin into when they built it."
Seldrin nodded, "No wonder the Navy and the LSF keep it so heavily locked down."
Now it was Petresun's turn to nod, "Oh yea, we dont want anything like what happened in Rheinland. You know that artifacts used to be a legal trade?"
"Yeah...."
"Ever wonder why they locked them down? started cracking down on all of it when Jacobi was president?"
Seldrin's eyes went wide, "You mean to tell me that whole incident with the near-war, the hostilites with Rheinland that started when some terrorists blew up a ship... what was it the danube?"
"The Donau"
"Right! I remember now! I was only just a teenager...."
Petresun paused for a long moment, "Youve heard of The Wilde right?"
Seldrin raised an eyebrow, "What you mean the counter government terrorist cult that worships those artifacts?"
Petresun shook his head, "Theres more to it than that. Theyre nomad infested humans. Bent on killing everyone."
Seldrin practically shouted, "INFESTED?! They can INFEST US?!"
Petresun nodded grimly, "Theyre parasitic, crawl in yer mouth and take ya over. And yer navy is experimenting with em."
Seldrin oggled as he put two and two together, "You mean.... the whole near-war incident... was caused by infested humans?"
"Yep, they controlled almost all of Liberty and Rheinland's governments and military, and about half of Kusari. They still control a few of your naval higher ups, and maybe a couple police officers"
"And we... oh my... we take our prisoners back there... we.. experiment with turning them over to hellspawn aliens?"
Petresun nodded.
Seldrin was appaled.
"And we have an open gate to a string of systems full of them?"
"Yep"
"And my own foster dad... hes a naval admiral... he could be one of them?"
"Yeah."
Seldrin slumped back into his flight chair. There was no love lost between him and his foster dad... but still. To think he had possibly been raised by an alien playing a charade....
"How can I ever repay you fro this Petresun?"
"Its enough payment to know that Ive helped spread the truth, and that youll do the same. Just watch your back. You know the truth and that makes you dangerous, which in turn puts ya in danger."
"Thank you. I hope Ill see you soon."
"Me too Mr Griffiths. Me too."
"Oh, friends call me Griff. Not that I have alot."
"Well ye can add one to your list." Petresun winked, and thrusted off in the direction of Maine.
Seldrin sat for a long long moment. Then he jammed his cruise to maximum. He needed to talk to the captain. dangerous or not.
![[Image: griffithsLPI.png]](http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g180/NCC-12290/GG/griffithsLPI.png)