: “ Prelude to Destiny ”

TCS Mistral Sea; Air Group Briefing Room
The Gimle System
March 4th 2681; 2341 Hours (CST)

The room was big. Very big in fact. But everything is big in this damn ship, thought Major John Peart. The fact that they were the only three in this enormous room made it look all the more bigger. It was kinda ironic in a way.

"So, you believe we will be working as clean-up for those remaining bugs?" he asked. He looked at his CO, Lieutenant Colonel Griffith, who mostly remained quiet throughout the meeting. He listened to most of the conversation, only pausing to add a few comments. But those comments, they really meant something.

Griffith replied. "Most surely. The pilots on our sister ship Midway destroyed the 'portal' in the Kilrah System a few weeks ago. For the surrounding systems only a few bugs remained, and they were wiped out. Some bugs sure survived somewhere and there is always the chance of other portals." His eyes then gleamed coldly as he went on, "Maybe a very small chance, but still a small chance."

"Sorry, sir, but I still don't think they could create another portal like the one in the reports that quickly."

Eyes turned to the voice. For the last three hours Lieutenant Colonel Griffith, Major Peart and Major LeBroc had been discussing the reason for the Fleet meeting in McAuliffe. And for three hours Eve LeBroc was against the ideas of remaining bugs in human known space.

"You remember the reports by Fleet Intell, Major. According to that report, the portal opened in Kilrah System very fast and before anyone could explain what was going on, we lost several ships. We lost our listening posts, then when we tried to send in a strike team we lost that, too." Not to mention some fine men and women, he didn't have to add.

And for three hours Lieutenant Colonel Dave Griffith defended his point of view, "Hmmm... the general thing is that we don't know what they are. But we do know what they aren't."

"Yeah," Major LeBroc said, "We know they ain't friendly." A bunch of chuckles came up around the room, then the situation got serious again. "All we know is that they come in great number and are, generally speaking, more advanced then us. From the numbers that we need reported, we can get the entire ConFleet in one spot and it still wouldn't do any good."

"And then they like to capture specimens," completed Peart. "Or at least is what it looks like."

"I heard something about a Kilrathi Prophecy. If those bug are the 'Star Gods' they mention, maybe they didn't expect to find us humans here. They found their old enemies beaten and decided to attack us, the ones that defeated them."

Silence for a second as everyone thought about it. True, most people with news access heard about the prophecy that ended up on the papers after been sent by a anonymous Kilrathi priestess to a Confed relay station. Before taken as a threat, the truth was discovered later as the prophecy was confirmed by Kilrathi and human specialists. It was all over the freaking news links. Then after a few weeks, the Midway closed off the jump portal. Once again, peace reigned. But somehow, something was so wrong about it. So damn wrong. It was Griffith that cut the silence.

"But you have to remember that they also captured Kilrathi in their first attacks."

"Maybe they were testing if their old enemies have evolved physically..." said Peart.

"Or maybe they just like to torture," Eve cut in.

Nods and sighs. Everyone had to agree that the bugs were hard to understand, yet. John had this stunning revelation about the arrival of the aliens.

"Man, I remember dissecting insects in my biology classes in High School. And I remember stomping on quite a few bugs when I was a kid. You think maybe they're here to avenge them?" Eve laughed, Griffith remained silent, thinking. The man was too serious, almost as if he was really thinking about that possibility. He never smiles, he never chats socially, he just sits silent and thinks. John got worried again with Griffith, though it happened periodically. Stress can be bad for a commanding officer, and being a bomber pilot didn't help a single bit.

It was after another few minutes of silence when Griffith finally spoke up, "I think I'll go to my office now, check anything they have in the database about the bugs. Maybe we'll talk later about more sims."

"Okay, sir. Till tomorrow"

Griffith left the room leaving Eve and Peart behind. Eve took the time to fall down on one of the almost comfortable seats and slide down, closing her eyes.

"Aaah... why did I come back? Why didn't I listen to my husband and stayed on Earth?"

"What? And miss all the fun? Naaah!" John was always the one who was smiling and was enthusiastic.

"Yeah, fun...wait till we get briefed for this new assignment."

"Why? Do you know something I don't?" asked Peart, suspicious.

"Let's say been married with a Senator don't only get me more shore leave time."

TCS Mistral Sea; Flight Deck 1
0900 Hours (CST), March 5th 2681

For the last two hours, Kathreen Langloff had been working on her Devastator. Apparently it was all she did when she was not out flying. And for two hours, Jess Morton had been watching her, at a safe distance. Jess thought he had finally managed to understand women until he met Langloff. She was not the usual type of woman. Always away from the crowd, always with her craft, checking it, working on it... and always away from him. For several years since teenhood, Jess was the ladies' man. High School athlete, College smart guy, member of several sports' teams. Every girl's dreams. Jess was Mr. Perfect all his life. Always got what he wanted... 'till he met Langloff. Now he was there, sitting on a metallic crate full of something Jess didn't care less about not knowing why he was there. Never did he ever need to go after a woman.

He watched her every move, observed her delicate hands, worshipped her. She was so beautiful - tall, bright green eyes, cute short red hair, and she didn't move like a military woman, or a technician as she usually looked like when working on her ship. She look, moved, like a princess. It was when Jess realized the truth: he was hopelessly in love.

"Are you hopelessly in love?" came a echo. Took Jess a few seconds to notice that the voice came from outside. He turned eyes wide to notice a pallid thin smiling face staring at him.

"Ah, Fungus. Hi."

The frail man winced. "Please, don't call me that. I hate that name."

"Hate? So why do you use it as your callsign?"

"Why? Do you think I have an option?" Pale-faced, he stepped back and opened his thin arms wide. "Look at me. I'm a computer geek, a nerd, a 'house fungus.'"

Jess tried not to smile, but failed. The guy before him was a rather comical one. He didn't know what the hell "nerd" meant, but from what he knew, Fungus was a computer geek all right. He was a genius to be more exact. In a few days on board he had located and corrected a error on his nav computer that have been a pain for almost every tech on the deck. There was even rumors telling that he had been working on his Devastator to make the systems use less energy, tweaking the ramscoops so there was more for more essential systems like engine, shields and the gun banks. But if it was the truth, no one knew and he wouldn't be telling anyone anytime soon.

"You know, I've been working on making my ship's systems to use less energy so..."

Okay, so he was telling it.

"Okay, okay. Look, get out. I just want to be alone."

"Alone?" Fungus looked at Langloff far away, opening a side panel of her ship. "Looks like you're in good company. You've been staring at her, almost drooling for a long time. See?" Fungus pointed at a small wet puddle on the ground right below Jess's chin, composed exclusively of saliva.

Jess automatically got his back straight, making use of his taller and broader frame. "What? Bah! Jess Sommers Morton don't drool over any women! They drool over me!"

"Mmm, that's... disgusting. Not to mention egotistical... but at least you're modest." He shrugged. "Well, anyway, I have to work on my ship." Fungus started to walk away, then stopped and turned. "Of course there is nothing wrong in falling in love for her, you know. She has always been half of Confed's love." Then he turned again and continued on.

A few seconds later, when Jess was putting his feet over the crate to get more comfortable, it stuck him "Uh? Half of Confed's love? What do you... damnit. He's gone."

And again that little thought came back. He did know her from somewhere. Apparently everyone did. He had to learn more. Nothing that charm and, if needed, threats wouldn't resolve.

New Riga Colony; St. Francis Church of Eternal Salvation
The Ymir System
March 4th 2681; 2231 Hours local time

When it was built several decades ago, New Riga was intended to be Humanity's Haven. Built inside caves to protect its citizens from the harsh outside environment and known to be free of any problems with race or religions, New Riga soon became the home of people looking for refugee. After a few little skirmishes in the beginning, soon the city became the central of peace in Vega Sector. The only place you would see several temples of several - many conflicting - faiths, side by side. Was probably also the only place where you saw skinheads, jews, retros and technofiles together.

They were different, but very soon had they begun to realize that they were no different than the diverse set of people they they lived with. Of course there was heated discussions from time to time, and an inconvenient brawl or two between newcomers was always to be expected, but soon everyone would learn to respect and like each other, because the one that you punched today may be the doctor that would save your life tomorrow. Being a small community guaranteed they would survive.

Then they had come. In a matter of moments they had came and have brought Death. In just a few minutes the entire defense network of the sector had been reduced to ash. The Aliens then landed on the planet and penetrated the colony. In seconds anyone who resisted was taken down, lots killed before they entered their ships or even before knowing they were under attack. Lucky ones. At least they were not abducted and tortured by the Aliens that soon invaded the planet and took those they decided were fit for their experiments, their rituals. Their sickness.

Some people that were courageous enough, or perhaps dumb enough, tried to stop the aliens with the few guns they had at their disposal. The colony wasn't prepared for a full scale invasion. The others? Dead. Killed in the worst ways possible.

But some had survived. They had panicked and hid in the many secret hiding places only a cave would have. And they were lucky, the Aliens did not have enough time to thoroughly sweep the area, so they have moved on. A survivor of such an attack would go insane by only watching the killing. They would if there was any surviving witness of the atrocities. The enemy, the monsters, somehow sensed those eyes upon them and soon there were no witnesses.

Angie Anderson helped distributing water among the few survivors gathered in the small church using some remaining furniture as chairs and improvised beds. It was hard enough not having reliable medical equipment or food, but they had to live in subhuman conditions. Rats and cockroaches have took over the city. After the destruction of the city and the sewer under it, the smell of death and the filth that covered the place attracted all forms of vermin.

Those that managed to escape the air strikes and then the Alien purge hiding in the subterrans or outside the city would now suffer from diseases whose treatment existed for centuries... if they were not already eradicated, which most were everywhere. Angie killed an enormous black bug crawling near Mr. Lin, a poor Buddhist that was found miraculously alive under several tons of his temple's ceiling, but in critical conditions. No one believed he would survive longer, but no one ever thought of letting him die without a change. There was always hope.

"Angie? They found six more survivors in Glory Park. They are hungry, but mostly unwounded. I think one of the kids is sick and a adult may have a broken knee."

"Okay, I'll go check on them, Father. Can you go on giving water to them?"

Angie gave the catholic priest the water bucket with the steel cup and walked between the survivors, some laying on the floor, on the altar's direction. Most newcomers were in a room behind it where they were checked for diseases and and had their wounds treated. Angie was one of the assistants that helped the two healthy doctors in taking care of the patients. Angie sighed heavily at the newcomers - four kids, one were surely sick, covered in a blanket, trembling and pale. The poor kid might not survive in these conditions. Another one was now being checked by one of the doctors. One of the adults were leaning on a table where the second doctor checked his knee for a fracture. The last survivor, a woman, was on this man's side comforting him. Maybe his wife.

Angie moved to ask if the doctors needed anything. Things were bad now and health was something that was in dire situation for most people. Most of the air recycling systems have been disabled during the attack and now the air was fouled. In several places deeper underground the air was so stained that a rescue team they sent looking for survivors found more deaths by suffocation than alien action. It was really disturbing. Angie wasn't there to see it, but she attended the team, a couple of them cracking on the way back - another problem was people losing their faith. Suicide rate grew since the day the aliens left the planet, or at least in the caves. No one had the courage to go outside them.

They have managed to contact other two groups that were attending survivors. A few men with military experience were training those fit and willing to help in case the bugs came back. Some of the men had went aboveground to go to what's left of the military air defense base to find anything that they could have used. All they found was an old communications system and a couple of sensor orbital probe drones, no working shuttles or fighters. They had gotten it working and have relayed a message of the Border Worlds government, crestfallen when the reply had come. There was simply no resources to help. But they had said, that the Confederation will help them. And so the reply had sent them off with the message: hold out, help will come.

The rest of the survivors would rendezvous in a couple of days in the remaining of Glory Park, now just a devastated biosphere with few surviving plants and trees that were grown in the artificial UV light. The hopes were to use the dome above the Park to get out and scan the area going out by way of the maintenance doors. They found enough protective suits for a small group of scouts to go outside and check the airbase that was cut out of the the rest of the colony when the tunnels leading to it collapsed. A second group would go to the administrative building look for communication gear. If the airbase didn't have a working comm station, the administrative building surely had one.

Some people refused to leave their cavern homes, or rather what was left of it. Some believed help would come and other that the bugs were still outside. Most of the them were true believers in their own faith and felt that it was all a test from their gods or higher powers. That they, the survivors, were the chosen. That humanity was been judged and that only the worthy and faithful would remain in the end. It's funny so see people of one religion suddenly convert to another they mocked before because of the attack, thought Angie. She saw, for example, Todd McGregor, a rebel that believed in a strange religion that saw humans as the center of the universe, the powerful ones, one faith that grew a lot after the end of the war, suddenly become a Chaotic, a cultists that believed that humans were only a accident and far from perfect, soon to be lost in the powerful Chaos.

It was a big problem to live in such a religious colony, indeed. Angie heard of several people that simply gave themselves to the bugs as if the aliens were in fact gods, or direct spawns from the higher power, sent to gather the worthy ones. She tried to shake off the image of those poor people that believed that was the way to meet their masters, or worse, the face of disbelief when the aliens simply cut them down with whatever weapon they used.

A moan of pain called the woman's attention, one of the boys suddenly felt on the floor holding his stomach, his face now almost green. Before she could get to him the boy threw up on all over the floor, looked back with a puppy dog eyes and felt backwards like a cloth doll.

When Angie kneeled by his side to catch him, already giving space of one of the doctors that left the man with the broken knee to jump on help of the boy, already pulling some of his equipment with him. A quick exam of pulse and temperature; shouts of orders. As Angie scrambled to take the medicine, the doctor ordered as he raised the boy to put him over one of the improvised exam tables.

But it was late. When Angie was back the doctor was trying mouth-to-mouth for sometime. The medicine on her hand almost fell as her hands trembled, holding on just because she knew they could not spare any of it.

"Breathe!" Shouted the doctor between mouth-to-mouth and cardiacal massage. "Breathe, damnit!"

One of the kids started to cry in one corner, another one, older, hugged her saying something too low to be heard. On the other side the woman survivor held the man's hands, both staring at the small body only hoping.

The other doctor came, holding back the doctor trying to resurrect the boy.

"It's over, Mike... let him be."

And Mike moved back, leaning on the wall for support, also staring at the body, his small glassy eyes looking at the ceiling. Dead. Poor kid.

And right now, more than ever, Angie just wanted to be far away with her husband, wherever he was.

TCS Mistral Sea; Simulator room
The McAuliffe System
March 5th 2681; 1240 Hours (CST)

Major Paul Anderson cursed in his virtual cockpit. Why did they assign me to that newbie? A damn elite squadron and they put him with me! At least it's not Mouth, he thought. This morning the Colonel asked him to take Afterburn in a few sim missions. The boy was good, but really needed to practice with a bomber. Until now all the Lieutenant had piloted were around three times smaller than the Devastator and probably three times less powerful. The kid did indeed need practice.

"When I say torp run on the transport, you do a damn torp run!"

"But, sir, there were six Mantas on our way," came back a young, irritated voice.

"That's why we got escort, moron!" Anderson pointed outside knowing Afterburn could see him through the vidcomm. "It's their job to kill the fighters. All you can do is drop FFs to help and aim on the damn capship!"

A loud lock tone went off on his cockpit and Savage turned his attention to the target, shooting a Hellstorm heavy torpedo on the transport's bridge. The projectile flew through a wave of counter fire as the Alien gunner tried in vain to shoot down the killer missile. The bridge was lit up by a silent explosion seconds later and the ship trembled heavily. "The ship is blind. Try to stop it now, smart boy," he ordered as he turned away and cycled through targets to choose the next one. They did a good job till now. Two transports down, one blind, and a fourth one remaining. Most of the fighters were down, a couple taken down by his missiles, another three by the new guy. He even managed to hit one with his plasma cannon. They also did a good job destroying a Barracuda while the escort tangled with a swarm of bug fighters.

His attention was caught by the bright explosion on his left side. What? Can't be - it's too soon for a torpedo. There was not enough time for a lock. And the excited voice coming out of his headset explained it.

"Ha-hah! Look at that! This plasma gun can do a hell of a work!"

Well, he did hit the transport's engine and killed it, just didn't use the torpedo. And it was indeed a good shot. "Okay, good. But could you remember why we are here?" Paul asked and completed before Afterburn could answer with something stupid. "For you to learn to use a damn bomber! And the damn torpedoes! So use them!"

A moment of silence before the other pilot answered, "Okay, sir. Going for the next target, cycling to torpedoes."

Paul Savage aimed on the last transport's bridge and prepared for lock. The face popped up again on his vidcomm and the voice came again through his headset, "And when we finish it, may I go after the fighters?"

Oh, hell...

TCS Mistral Sea; Air Group Rec Room
March 5th 2681; 1700 Hours (CST),

"So, you just have to glue on the capship butt and fire all you got. Simple!"

"You are insane, Thomas. A fight is not a rude thing where you just go, press a button and come back for a nap. Its a ritual, a honorable combat. Every opponent deserve some respect."

PointBlank and Joust. Two opposite sides of the same coin. The first adept of the "go, fire, cheer and go home for dinner," earned his callsign for the risky and unusual tactic of going at full burn to the target, getting close enough so that the target's turrets couldn't hit him, and than fire all he got. The second was a real knight. In fact he was a knight, Sir Cain Fisher, descendent of noble warriors of ages long gone; people that fought in every war on the winning side. He tried to bring back the time of the old knights, the glorious battles, the exciting duels, the joust. He really like to imagine him as the hero in shining armor riding his horse to attack the dragon. PointBlank loved to mess with him, make him get very pissed and then...

"Well, I'm a Major; you, a Captain. So, know you damn role and shut up."

And it always ended like that. Everyone around laughed, Joust muttered some curse and walked away. Point Blank grinned and took a seat on the table close to the other pilots of his squadron.

"Man, you're so mean. Someday he'll test his plasma gun on you."

"Nah. It wouldn't be honorable."

Another series of laughs. This time PointBlank noticed the guy in uniform seating on the table, a PDA on his had, a few others on his side, reading so intensively that was oblivious of the confusion around him.

"Hey, Brain! Stop that."

"Eh?"

"Stop reading. That can't be good for your health."

"I'm just reading the information about the bugs. I got a feeling this massing of the fleet here means they aren't dead yet."

PointBlank moved in, pulled a chair and seated in it, crossing his hands over the back of his head to hold them. "What you mean?"

"Take a look in our force that's been gathered outside." Brain indicated on his PDA where the name and specifications of the ships forming the Seventh Fleet and then pointed out the observation window. "We have this megacarrier, the combined force of three fleet carriers, an entire Marine Expeditionary Unit, and six major capital warships for escort. All of this force, deployed in peacetime! Since the war is over, the only threat I can see is of the bugs. Why would Confed join such a strong force in one point? It's not to hunt down pirates, for sure. And you'd think that after the invasion, the fleet would recall all its ships, not sending out new task forces."

PointBlank checked the PDA for a minute without touching it thinking of the possibilities. Well, it was truth that some of the officers were forced back into active duty in the last few weeks. If he remembered well enough two of the guys in Rhino Beetle Squadron, Warhawk, and Defender were among those. And from what he heard, Savage was denied his so long expected retirement.

"And look at the fleet movement and attack reports released. Note the movement vector. See? Now this point, the force fought by the Midway were here, here and... here. Look, it was one single ship - a mega ship, okay, but one ship - with no complete fighter support for more then half the engagement. Do you really believe they got all of them? I'm sure with all the destruction the bugs did, and with so few ships trying to stop them, the odds of the enemy task force being stopped is quite small."

The Major was now so deep in thought he didn't even notice that several of the pilots and crewmen in the lounge were now converging around him and Brain to listen better and have a good look at the small map the Lieutenant sketched on one of the PDAs. They were now all commenting about it and their fear of a large engagement began to show. Most people here never saw real combat, most didn't have to kill or be killed, most didn't have their lives depending of one final shot or just pure luck. Soon it would be all around the ship and it would be impossible to stop. But how long did they expect to hide something that big? They all knew something was happening, just didn't have the courage to think what it could be. The whole Seventh Fleet deployed.

There was something going on indeed. Something big, and Jack "PointBlank" Thomas didn't like any of it.

FINIS