Part 4

<p style="text-indent: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 100%; page-break-after: avoid" align="LEFT" class="western" lang="en-US"><font face="Calibri, sans-serif"><font size="2"><b>Aboard ASW <i>DragonflyIV</i></b></font></font></p><p style="text-indent: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 100%; page-break-before: auto" class="western" lang="en-US"><font face="Calibri, sans-serif"><font size="2"><b>10 meters overReseda Valley, Colorado, Isabella System</b></font></font></p><p style="text-indent: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; page-break-before: auto; page-break-after: avoid" class="western" lang="en-US"><font face="Calibri, sans-serif"><font size="2">05/04/70, 02:38:01</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%" class="western" lang="en-US">“<font face="Times New Roman, serif"><font size="2">Not anymore,”Master Chief Pilot Officer Alicia Parker remarked, a sustained burstfrom the twin MPAC3030 railguns in the wings ripping the Gnat heloapart, even as the passive sensors lit off on a large mass of troops entering the valley, Gnats,Starmarines, and the members of the so-called rebels on thismiserable voghole planet, swarming into the valley<i> </i>like a<i>hungry</i> nest of anklebiters.</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%" class="western" lang="en-US"><font face="Times New Roman, serif"><font size="2">With a nod of herhead, the pilot of the <i>Dragonfly IV </i>tapped a command on herleft-hand control holodisplay to arm the hafnium bursting charges inthe torp launcher’s torpedos, and fired, the kinetic-kill missilespraying a dense cloud of shrap which ripped through the charginghostiles, as the pair of thirty-thirties hammered at those stillstanding.</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%" class="western" lang="en-US">”<font face="Times New Roman, serif"><font size="2">They look prettywell equipped for a half-assed band of rebels and pirates,” Aliciaobserved to herself, launching another airbursting assault missile.</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%" class="western" lang="en-US">“<font face="Times New Roman, serif"><font size="2"><i>And,”</i>she added,”they seem to be following the lead of the Marzie sons ofvogs who aren't even supposed to be on this planet to begin with.”</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%" class="western" lang="en-US">“<font face="Times New Roman, serif"><font size="2">Imagine that,”she quipped, as she ripped into more useless Marzies.</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%" class="western" lang="en-US">“<font face="Times New Roman, serif"><font size="2">Imagine th—“she started to repeat, just as the ship shook, and the warpdriveradar alarm lit off on an SAC-81 Boojum dropship diving down on her,all guns blazing.</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%" class="western" lang="en-US"><br /><br /></p><p style="text-indent: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 100%; page-break-before: auto; page-break-after: avoid" align="LEFT" class="western" lang="en-US"><font face="Calibri, sans-serif"><font size="2"><b>Aboard FSS <i>Eve OfDestruction</i></b></font></font></p><p style="text-indent: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 100%; page-break-before: auto" class="western" lang="en-US"><font face="Calibri, sans-serif"><font size="2"><b>10 meters overReseda Valley, Colorado, Isabella System</b></font></font></p><p style="text-indent: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 200%; page-break-before: auto; page-break-after: avoid" class="western" lang="en-US"><font face="Calibri, sans-serif"><font size="2">05/04/70, 02:40:48</font></font></p><p class="western">“Oh, <i>hell yeah!”</i> exulted Chief PilotOfficer Pax Judas “Hammer” Rabwin, the pilot of the SAC-81 Boojumdropship <i>Eve Of Destruction</i><i>, </i>upon spying the littlepiece of Nakkie pie shaking its gynt in front of him, hammering ather with his twin 3030s, as the squatter, not having the stomach fora knife fight—same as all the rest—punched it into warpdrive<i>.</i></p><p class="western">“<i>Vog!” </i><span style="font-style: normal">heswore an instant later, fighting to keep control, as 30 mm roundsslammed into his tail, instantly reducing the strength of </span><i>Eve’s</i><span style="font-style: normal">deflector by half, beforepunching through to make scrap metal of most of the Boojum’sinsides. </span><i> </i></p><p class="western">“<i>You miserable voggin’ </i><span style="font-style: normal">gynt!”</span>shouted Rabwin at the same time his fingers flew across the SAC-81’snavicomp holodisplay, kicking the <i>Eve Of Destruction</i> intowarpdrive, breaking out right on the tail of that tight-gyntedlittle Nakkie <i>slut</i>.</p><p class="western">Ain’t a gods-damned <i>one</i> of ‘em worth<i>crap</i> in combat, no matter how much PC the political generalsand the proks running roughshod over all of them tried to cram downhis throat; they could strut the strut well enough, but when a <i>realswingin' gug</i><span style="font-style: normal"> got a hold of oneof 'em</span>, same result every time, <i>every time</i>, same aswhen he'd gotten a hold of that tight-gynted little Diana Shawnkafter it had compounded its audacity by telling the Hammer it wasn’topening up for him or for any other man, that it thought munching therug was the right friggin’ thing to do, and the tasty mothervoggin’way t—</p><p class="western"><i>Son of a </i><span style="font-style: normal">gynt!</span></p><p class="western">Alarms by the bushel screamed, as the cockpitexploded, sparks all over the place, both control holodisplaysflickering, the stick going slack in his hand, the veteran FederatedStates Starfleet chief pilot officer unpleasantly reminded of fifteenyears ago, when the carrier he’d commanded had rammed the<i>Trans-Utopia</i><i> </i>ten klicks above L’Enfant, resulting ina fireball that could be seen everywhere on Lamar, and almosteveryone on both ships killed. </p><p class="western">And, the same vogging political generals that hadlet his father be taken prisoner by the Naks busting him all the waydown from captain to a frickin' third class, sticking him in themothervogging <i>JAG Corps</i>, even though it had clearly been <i>theirfault</i> for lowering the training standards to the point where the<i>Alexander</i><i>’s</i> half-witted excuse for an XO couldn’teven <i>spell </i><span style="font-style: normal">vector, much less</span><i>plot </i><span style="font-style: normal">one</span>.</p><p class="western"><i>Doesn’t matter at present,</i><span style="font-style: normal">he reminded himself, as his deadstick machine spun like atilt-a-whirl, and plummeted towards the inhospitable surface ofColorado’s Reseda Valley.</span></p><p class="western"><i>Nothing to do now,</i><span style="font-style: normal">he thought to himself with a sigh, </span><i>except pull the magichandle</i><span style="font-style: normal">. </span></p><p class="western">Pressing the red button on the center buckle ofhis straps as hard as he could, Rabwin floated up out of his wreckeddropship, his suit’s integral grav harness moving him away, as theSAC-81 slammed into the rocky, barren valley below.</p><p class="western"><br /><br /></p><p style="text-indent: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal; page-break-before: auto" class="western"><font face="Calibri, sans-serif"><font size="3"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal"><b>AboardASW</b></span></span></font><font size="2"><span lang="en-US"><i><b>Unbroken</b></i></span></font></font></font></p><p style="text-indent: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-before: auto" class="western"><font face="Calibri, sans-serif"><font size="2"><b>1,750 kilometersfrom Colorado, Isabella System</b></font></font></p><p style="text-indent: 0in; margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal; page-break-before: auto" class="western" lang="en-US"><font face="Calibri, sans-serif"><font size="2"><b>05/04/70, 02:46:19</b></font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%" class="western" lang="en-US">&nbsp;</p><p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%" class="western" lang="en-US"><font face="Times New Roman, serif"><font size="2">Fighters and lerfswere ripped apart by shrap, as <i>Unbroken </i>unleashed herfirepower against the coordinated efforts of the two supposedlyopposed political factions.</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%" class="western" lang="en-US"><font face="Times New Roman, serif"><font size="2">Both of whom wereremarkably well-equipped, even the alleged half-assed rebels andpirates employing state of the art Mod. 4 <i>Gato</i>-classlong-range fighters, <i>City Of Nations-</i>class corvettes,<i>Hull-</i>class frigates, and a <i>Cochran-</i>class destroyer, aswell as an unending swarm of Thundercat fighters, a far cry from theancient <i>Fletcher-</i>class frigates and <i>Onslow-</i>classcorvettes that the Colorado Republican Navy had been using at thetime the civil war had broken out fifteen years ago.</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%" class="western" lang="en-US"><font face="Times New Roman, serif"><font size="2">Before the master ofthe <i>Unbroken </i>could muse on that any further, Meliza shoutedout,”<i>starcraft emerging from warpdrive, bearing plus seven-fivedegrees by zero-one-zero-one Zulu, three-zero-zero thousand klicksdownrange!”</i></font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%" class="western" lang="en-US"><font face="Times New Roman, serif"><font size="2"><i>Unbroken's</i>sensorman added, a few moments later,”hostiles are five FlightIIIA <i>Zumwalt-</i>class heavy cruisers, all squawking Sixth Fleetidents.”</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%" class="western" lang="en-US">“<font face="Times New Roman, serif"><font size="2">PM,” Steviesaid,”refresh my memory. Didn't the Marzies report Sixth Fleet lostwith all hands in this system at the beginning of the civil war?”</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%" class="western" lang="en-US">“<font face="Times New Roman, serif"><font size="2">Attacked bypirates, Skipper,” Prue replied, while spearing one of the <i>Zumwalts</i>with the graser,”according to what <i>FSN</i> reported, just beforeinfo of any kind stopped coming out of Colorado.”</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%" class="western" lang="en-US"><font face="Times New Roman, serif"><font size="2">Stevie nodded herhead.</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 100%" class="western" lang="en-US">“<font face="Times New Roman, serif"><font size="2">Sensors, Sparks,”she said,”upload everything to Sentinel Docks,” she said, beforetelling Prue,”Pilot Major, jump the ship.”</font></font></p><p style="line-height: 100%" class="western" lang="en-US"><font face="Times New Roman, serif"><font size="2"><span style="font-style: normal">Steviethen glanced at the readouts on her right-hand command holodisplay,making sure the ship was still travelling at least 0.01</span><i>c,</i><span style="font-style: normal">as the better half of herfuriously punched up calculations and commands on the navicompholodisplay underneath the fingers of her right hand, and the ship ofthe Watch.... </span></font></font></p><p style="text-indent: 0.48in; margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal; page-break-before: auto" lang="en-US"><font color="#000000"><font face="Times New Roman, serif"><font size="2"><i>...shotinto warpdrive, away from Clarion and the Marzie sons of vogs nowdescending upon her surface to....</i></font></font></font></p><p style="text-indent: 0.24in; margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal; page-break-before: auto" lang="en-US"><br /></p><p class="western"><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US"><i>...</i></span></font></font><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US"><i>notgonna be like that</i></span></font></font><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal">,</span></span></font></font><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US"><i>notthis time,</i></span></font></font><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal">the master of the </span></span></font></font><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US"><i>Unbroken</i></span></font></font><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal">thoughtto herself, even as the five inchers flayed open three of the foursurviving Marzie cruisers, the fifth ducking into warpdrive, </span></span></font></font><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US"><i>Unbroken</i></span></font></font><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal">followingsuit, re-entering normspace ninety million klicks from Colorado,Anayah reporting,”Weapons master reports extraction successful,Ms Johansdottir and her party are aboard </span></span></font></font><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US"><i>DragonflyIV </i></span></font></font><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal">now,dropship heading out of atmosphere at max burn.”</span></span></font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal" class="western" lang="en-US"><font color="#000000">“<font size="2">Howbad off ?” Stevie found herself asking, as Prue gutted one of thetwo Coloradan destroyers, while torps turned into shrap rippingthrough a wave of hostile lerfs.</font></font></p><p class="western"><i><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US">Whichis a stupid question, after all, </span></font></font></i><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal">she rebuked herself. </span></span></font></font><i><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US">You,of all people....</span></font></font></i></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-before: auto">“<i>...I-i'ms-sorry,“ Taylor blubbered, as she was forced to kneel on the stagein front of the other proks, an overseer standing behind her,prepared to activate the implant in her head at the slightestprovocation.</i></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-before: auto"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-before: auto">“<i>I-i am,“Taylor stuttered, body shaking, as she tried fighting what she </i><span style="font-style: normal">couldnot fight</span><i>,“a d-dirty pr-procreator, carnal, perverse anddepraved, who seduces others, so that I m-may trap them into becomingas filthy and degenerate as I am.“</i></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-before: auto"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-before: auto">“<i>No,“Stevie screamed, forced to kneel and watch this,“</i><span style="font-style: normal">no</span><i>,you're n—“</i></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-before: auto"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-before: auto"><i>White fireexploded in her brain, and the fifteen-year old girl heard someoneusing her voice to shriek and shout out denial, as she struggled tocrawl blindly along the littered, broken street which had once beenthe main highway to Freya's downport.</i></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-before: auto"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-before: auto"><i>She heardvoices echoing, some of them surprised as she was to see her fightingthe implant, others insisting it simply </i><span style="font-style: normal">wasnot possible</span><i>, it was a prok, a stinking, filthy piece ofgynt, for True God's sake, there was </i><span style="font-style: normal">nopossible way</span><i> it could fight something He above had createdfor its subjugation.</i></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-before: auto"><br /></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-before: auto">“<i>...I begthe forgiveness of my Masters, my Mistresses,“ Taylor continuedsobbing,“and of my Progenitor and Lord, for profaning His Creationwith the ab-b-bomination that I-i....“ </i></p><p style="text-indent: 0.4in; margin-bottom: 0in; font-weight: normal; page-break-before: auto"><br /></p><p class="western"><i>...should know just how bad Marzies can get,</i><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal">she finished thinking to herself.</span></span></font></font></p><p class="western"><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal">Everything</span></span></font></font><i><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US">they’re capable of.</span></font></font></i></p><p style="font-style: normal" class="western" lang="en-US"><font color="#000000">“<font size="2">Accordingto Rifleman Lieutenant Dawntreader, sir—“ Anayah started to say.</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal" class="western" lang="en-US"><font color="#000000">“<font size="2">Bad,”Stevie finished for her.</font></font></p><p class="western"><font color="#000000">“<font size="2"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal">Yes,Shipmaster,” her radioman replied softly, as </span></span></font></font><i><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US">Unbroken</span></font></font></i><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal">onceagain ducked into warpdrive, re-entering normspace between a pair ofStarfleet destroyers, railguns and torps hammering both of them tillthey came apart, Prue taking them into warpdrive again, </span></span></font></font><i><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US">Unbroken</span></font></font></i><font color="#000000"><font size="2"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal">re-enteringnormspace inside the Colorado Highport complex, high forts andorbital weapons platforms all opening up on her, as she came upbehind her dropship.</span></span></font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal" class="western" lang="en-US"><font color="#000000">“<font size="2">Spoton, PM, per usual,” Stevie remarked. “Nukes, warp engine status?”</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal" class="western" lang="en-US"><font color="#000000">“<font size="2">Auto-repairsystem has repaired all damage to the port warp engine,” Arielreplied. “All other damage still being worked on. Diverting allavailable warp engine power to the deflectors.”</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal" class="western" lang="en-US"><font color="#000000">“<font size="2">Thankyou, Nukes,” Stevie replied, as Prue impaled a squadron of lerfswith a thirty-terajoule graser beam which vaporized their fragilehulls before punching a dripping wound through the spherical hull ofthe high fortress which had launched them.</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal" class="western" lang="en-US"><font color="#000000">“<font size="2">Openinglaunch deck doors,” Prue reported,”Intercept in five, four,three, two—“</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal" class="western" lang="en-US"><font color="#000000">“<font size="2">Medteam to the launch deck,” Stevie said over the Link. ”I sayagain, med team to the launch deck.</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal" class="western" lang="en-US"><font color="#000000">“—<font size="2">zero,”Prue said, throwing the switch which initiated the warpdrive entrysequence, the master holodisplay a blinding flash, then a shower ofblue lights gradually darkening towards indigo, violet, and black.</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal" class="western" lang="en-US"><font color="#000000">“<font size="2">Dropshipsafely recovered,” Prue added unnecessarily. “Med team is on thelaunch deck, tending to Ms. Johansdottir and the others.”</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal" class="western" lang="en-US"><font color="#000000"><font size="2">Theship of the Watch re-entered normspace five AU from Colorado, abluish-brown Jovian planet and its system of moons coming slowly intoview in front of them.</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal" class="western" lang="en-US"><font color="#000000">“<font size="2">PilotMajor, plot a vector for Hammarskjold,” Stevie said, not relaxingfor a second. “Maintain present course and speed, stand by on theguns; all hands, remain at action stations.”</font></font></p><p style="font-style: normal" class="western" lang="en-US"><font color="#000000">“<font size="2">Thehard part's,” she added,”just begun.”</font></font></p>