Up to the minute Battle Reports

We've all got to go sometime.

Bakunin, Pan-Terran Alliance Territory

--------

Amyrlin looked up from his paperwork and gave a pleasant smile. Paperwork constantly occupied his time nowadays; ever since he'd been elected First Citizen of the Alliance, the deluge of forms and reports had never stopped. He wondered how leaders of factions that actually had sizeable governments to create even more paper felt.

The object of his pleasant smile was Wystan, the leader of the Disorganized Society of Freedomists. Wystan paid Amyrlin frequent visits in his office, offering news, rumors, and conversation to relieve Amyrlin from his paperwork.

"I have a request for you," said Wystan. Amyrlin gave a grunt. "I have a friend whom I'd like for you to allow into the Alliance. He's a great scientist and statesman."

"Who might this be?" asked Amyrlin.

"Prosoft," replied Wystan.

Amyrlin stared. Prosoft? The very same Prosoft that, before the great rift severed this universe from the last, conquered an entire faction single-handedly?

"Are you out of your mind?" asked Amyrlin incredulously.

"No. We have a treaty worked out, ready for your signature. We will allow Prosoft into the faction, and he will not send any military forces to Prosperity." Prosperity was the Alliance's home system. "Furthermore, my intelligence service indicates that Prosoft barely has a navy; he has only enough ships to guard his person and his home system."

Amyrlin mulled this over. Clearly, Prosoft would not be a threat. Or would he? Prosoft's technology would add greatly to the Alliance, and Amyrlin's personal spies would be able to ensure that Prosoft did not engage in any sorts of shenanigans.

"I suppose," said Amyrlin, with a sigh. His intuition screamed not to, but Wystan's intelligence service was generally right.

"Great," said Wystan, thrusting forth a document. "Sign this." Amyrlin put his pen to the paper and scrawled out a signature.

--------

Six Months Later

--------

Amyrlin looked up from his paperwork and gave a pleasant smile. His secretary, Anisa, had just entered the room. She provided an occasional relief from the paperwork in quite a different way from Wystan.

"Sir, I have bad news," said Anisa. What? thought Amyrlin. Had she decided to cancel their dinner together this evening? "Prosoft has declared Prosperity to be under siege."

Amyrlin started up out of his chair, and then sunk down as Anisa proffered a report. He read the numbers on the front of it. Two thousand bombers? A thousand fighters? Capital ships? Where did they all come from?

Anisa answered the question before he voiced it. "Maris Licherning is missing," she said. Maris was the head of Amyrlin's intelligence service. "His bank account received a deposit of seven million credits from an unknown account three days ago."

That answered the question of how he was not informed of the invasion. There still remained the greater question of what he could do about it. Not much, he concluded quickly. His personal navy was fiercely loyal, but it was small, and sending it into battle would only sacrifice his pilots for nothing.

"Convene the Grand Council of the Alliance," said Amyrlin. "I will address them in two hours. By then, I need some information." He listed several items to Anisa.

----------

Two Hours Later

----------

"Order! We will have order in the council!" shouted the Presiding Magistrate, Yut Lishering. The delegates appeared not to hear him. Some were shouting for Amyrlin's resignation; others were shouting for his execution.

Amyrlin stepped forward into the First Citizen's box, which was positioned impressively above and to the front of the chamber. He placed his hands on the podium, and waited with a stern face. One by one, the delegates quieted.

"You may have my resignation, if you must demand it. You may even press charges of treason against me, if you believe them merited. But will that change anything? Prosoft's battle fleet still hovers above Bakunin. Your fleets - for those of you who even have fleets - are rusting in drydock, and would be annihilated by battery fire the moment they left the atmosphere, if indeed they are even spaceworthy. Yes, we have the Great Planetary Defense Works of 2397, but some of you have dismantled the Duckshot AAs to make room for shopping malls or open-pit mines.

What, indeed, can we do? Think about it, friends. Do we even have a choice? We could resist, and perhaps hold out for a few weeks, a month even - at the cost of how many of our brave pilots and innocent civilians?

No, friends, we are given no choice. Like it or not, we must cooperate. I have been in contact with Prosoft, and he will allow a select few of us to build military forces with which to defend Bakunin from other threats. The DSF and ASP are safe from attack. For the rest of you, if you follow Prosoft's directives, perhaps you will live to see the next dawn.

As for me, I have made a mistake. Prosoft should never have entered the faction. But would that have changed anything? He still would have likely arrived in Prosperity with a battlefleet, perhaps even stronger. We would still be in this position. I hope you will forgive me, and I hope you will forgive Wystan for pressing for Prosoft's admittance.

I will continue to lead as long as you continue to desire me to. I will strive to lead the Alliance in a way that will ensure our survival. I know you will not like to hear it, but our only choice is to follow Prosoft's directions.

May we all live to see the coming of the next moon."

The delegates sat in silence. Then, one applauded, and the floodgates were opened. The chamber of the Grand Council thundered with applause. Amyrlin waited a moment, then turned and walked down the long walkway to exit.

---------

The Next Week

---------

Amyrlin turned away from the videophone and frowned. Prosoft was playing hardball, again. He had threatened to declare martial law in Prosperity, a measure which Amyrlin was working to avoid. While he still had a measure of goodwill with the citizens of the Alliance, martial law would certainly undermine it.

Anisa strode in quickly, with a worried expression. "Sir, I believe Wystan took your note badly," she said.

"Why? Is he spreading rumors among the citizens?" Amyrlin asked, alarmed.

"No, sir. His private shuttle took off from Spaceport Theta five hours ago. We tracked its path, and it appears to be heading for Unitology space."

Amyrlin slumped in his chair. As he reached for his cup of thermacoffee, the fax receiver on his desk rang once and printed out a sheet of paper. Amyrlin glanced at it.

"FR: PROSOFT/EMP/N-1/1294910.294.1293/A
TO: AMYRLIN/FCT/C-5/3848293.284.8592/C

MARTIAL LAW IS DECLARED ON BAKUNIN. NO VESSELS SHALL ENTER OR LEAVE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION. ONLY YOU AND BRANDON MAY CONSTRUCT OR MOVE MILITARY VESSELS.

END"

Amyrlin slumped further and reached into his desk, feeling for the vial of zip concealed at the back. It would take more than thermacoffee to get him through this day.

Alliance	Sampson
I am a returning player from the good old days of WF's. I am on more often than I should be. I have been and I can be an asset to the Great Alliance. L O N G-----L I V E-----T H E-----A L L I A N C E-----!
Association	kuribo II
My fellow Associates, we stand today on the brink of dangerous and difficult times. The universe careens ever closer to galactic war. The need to stand up for ourselves and make our voices heard has never been stronger. As your President, I have done many things to further the cause of this faction. I have struck back at our Alliance oppressors. I have formed an empire that has acted as the Hammer of Judgement against our enemies. I have forged a treaty of mutual defense with the Unitology to ensure the survival of both factions. Without your support, I could not have done any of these things. Therefore, I trust that your continued support will enable me to do many more things to benefit this faction. The enemy stands in the way of our freedom. Stand behind me, and I will lead you through them! ---- kuribo President of the Association Head of Second Wave 9/24/2450 http://www.unexplainedb acon.net/secondwave/
Commonwealth	Rasta
As a faction we are becoming weak and complacent. We need strong leadership to push us up and forward. A vote for me is a vote for power, dignity and respect.
Unitology	Brother Daniel
My name is Daniel, And with Unitos' blessing i will make sure that the mistakes of the past are never repeated. We will spread forth as a civilized and advanced nation, bringing not only the light ofUnitos' words but the freedom of a good and just society to the regions of the universe where evil men have built their empires on the backs of the oppressed. Semper Ex Spiritus Unitos

Unitos knows how to pick 'em.

Early days on Dioltas as told by Brother Daniel of the Sionian Resistance

All roads lead to the cliffs of Xanaphia, a sweeping vista overlooking the green hills and vast forests of Dioltas, the new cradle of the Unitology. The grassy cliff was choked with thousands upon thousands of people, each one holding a lit candle, looking intently towards the red glow on the horizon.
Brother Mosely stood at the grey lectern and surveyed the sea of humanity that was waiting for him to speak, every single one wearing the traditional grey cloak that had fled with their owners from galaxy to galaxy, from universe to universe.
“Brothers and Sisters, we gather today to celebrate our faith’s first morning on her new home. Yet again, we have had cause to flee our old worlds due to the greed and cruelty of enemies both old and new, foreign and domestic. And yet again, we have survived. Many still want us dead because of our beliefs, and once again we have a job to do. This job is to show the universe that we WILL NOT die until every last one of us is put to the sword.”
A murmur of assent passed through the crowd. The electricity in the air was tangible, as the pulsating rhythm of a hundred thousand lifeforces united in their welcoming of this new glimmer of hope.
“The coming years will not be easy, my friends. These worlds are barren, and we are anything but alone. We can not falter if we are to survive, but I promise you all, that by the power vested in me, and by the brilliance of my colleagues, and by the sheer virtue of your own faith, that we will spread through the firmament and secure our future once and for all!”
The sun came into brilliant view over the horizon, and the onlookers began to sing the ancient Anthem of Unitos that so many generations had sung before them. As they sang, Brother Daniel, skirting the cliff with the Elite Sionian Guard at his side, raised his Shardrifle to the sky.
“Salute of the New Dawn!” He bellowed, and the crack of the shard rifles sent fifty-one lances of brilliant white energy across the sky. Every onlooker with a gun followed suit, and soon the air was filled with multicolored light and glistening metal. The echo of the cacophony swept the countryside, and when it was heard no more, the grey sea of men turned and started walking.
“That was a fine speech, Mr. President.” Brother Daniel rested the rifle on his shoulder and lit a black cigarette with his free hand. “You’re a veritable Lincoln. I’m glad it was you doin’ it, my voice ain’t what it used to be.”
“Thanks, Dan. How’re the freeholds?” Mosely took off the heavy presidential robe and slung it over his shoulder.
“We’ll get by. An old friend of ours recently joined up. Sam!” An elite guard removed the grey cloth over his nose and mouth, and the unmistakable Gigot strode over. The wind was whipping up now, howling across the ridge. Mosely was shocked.
“You… you’re dead. We still have your embalmed corpse in the Tombs of New Xanaphia.”
“Magic stuff, genesian DNA.” Quipped Gigot. “Mutates so fast, it’ll turn into nearly anything if you give it a genetic blueprint. You’ve got a Genesian transport pilot in your tombs. It’s a shame we can’t get that DNA anymore.”
“Well I’ll be damned.” Said the wind hammered Apopros, fighting across the steppe towards the group. “Crusader, Institutionman and Scorpion Pirate under one banner. Never thought I’d see the day.” Daniel handed him a cigarette and Apopros lit it. “Well, Spade and Bane just arrived in capital city. They want to join up.”
“Why now?” Said Mosely.
“Because this is a new start for the faction.” Said a voice from the side. Murat, a new face, stepped into the circle. “No more dividing lines. You are all old friends here. You just may have the team assembled that can make this thing work once and for all.” Apopros regarded Murat, took a long drag, and tossed the spent cigarette over the cliff’s edge.
“Then let’s make it work.” Said Mosely. “Daniel, can I count on Sionia?”
“As always, Mr. President.”
“Apopros, do I have your word of honor?”
“Honor will be a damn sight easier now that Kurt Killer’s not around to dick things up.”
“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get to work.” Everyone stood in silence.
“Daniel’s for a pint?” Inquired Gigot. The elite guard behind them cheered. Daniel smirked and hailed his transport. The wind kicked up and the smell of a fresh start waxed sweet in his nostrils. He lagged behind as his comrades walked towards the incoming transport. He looked at the scarlet, rising sun.
“Unitos… we’re really going to need your help this time.” Daniel flicked his cigarette into the wind and followed the others.

GIMME UR MUNNAY!!!1!

Early days in Empyrean territory, as told by Hobbes of Vincere Moneymus


The Council of the Empyrean Commonwealth gathered upon the stage, in front of the mass of Commonwealth dignitaries and VIPs. They were celebrating the creation of a new Credit-Regulation system, that standardized the credits of the Faction. It wasn't spectacularly important, since everyone used the standard UBG credit. But it was official, which meant that everyone went. Hobbes sat in the front row below the stage, watching everyone of the Council leaders carefully. These were some of the most powerful men and women in galaxy. Duo, for being the elected leader of the Commonwealth. Seldon, vice-president and Leader of the Mr Rogers Hood Confederacy, known for its humanitarian work. Kurt "Krazy Eyez" Killer, who had turned down faction presidency for advisorship and lead the infamous Vincere Moneymus Corporation. Tifi, the only female advisor and the woman who headed the Mellow Yellow Empire. And lastly IcedTeaBottle, President of the Anarchy Limited University, and one of the greatest scientists in the Universe. They were a good team, reflected Hobbes. One that might not be found in other circles.


His thoughts paused as Duo strode forward to take the podium and deliever the opening words of the Currency Standardization Ceremony.

_______

"Lets start an Empire," suggested Hobbes.

Duo turned to look at his associate. He raised an eyebrow.

Hobbes felt it neccessary to go on. "We're both responsible experienced Empyreans. No one else has started one, we could become the ruling power."

Duo nodded, mulling it over.

"Why?" he asked.

Hobbes stared. "Uh... for the usual reasons. Make money, become a power. Did I say make money already?"

Duo smiled wanly at Hobbes' obvious joke. "And who would lead?" he asked, dismissing the elephant from the room.

"Er...well...you, I suppose. You've more experience," said Hobbes, shuffling his feet.

Duo shook his head. "No, you'd lead this little endeavor. I'll back you up. That's as much as I can promise."

Hobbes blinked a couple times. He hadn't expected this. "I...well I... thank you."

"Lets just do well, Hobbes."

_______

Seldon rose now, during the interim applause between the finale of Duo's speech and the commencement of Seldon's own. All Empyreans are possessed of noble physical traits, and Seldon was no exception. Standing next to Duo, it looked like a vision of Castor and Pollux, the Gemini. They shook hands and Duo retired to his seat while Seldon took the podium. As he began his list of praises for Credit Standardization, Hobbes' mind drifted back, back to the end of his first chapter.

_______

Anarchy Limited had done well, though Hobbes couldn't credit himself for most of it. He'd hardly done anything but be there. IcedTeaBottle was another old hand and had excelled in research, making him the highest rated man in the empire. Though Hobbes hadn't been able to convince either Tuson or Krazy Eyez Killer to join Anarchy Limited, they'd had successes in any case. Sure, a few members of the Commonwealth's first Empire were a bit unstable, but the new and the old mixed well. During Anarchy LTD's brief religious phase (or lack thereof), Atheism had been born, and by the current polls was defeating the old Unitology in the Galactic religious affiliation ranking. Tuson had left the faction, leaving for that highly ranked Outcast Empire, the TLA. Hobbes couldn't fault him that. What could the Commonwealth offer him at that point? Very little. More than that, Hobbes was going to join the homeless in the core.

He looked down at the Commonwealth homeworld. Traffic streamed around the massive buildings, ships flittered in and out of the atmosphere. It'd be hard to leave the majesty of this world, in its opulent decadence. The system itself was pretty good, and the economy had improved in time. The Empyreans were living up to their potential. Hobbes was proud.

Which is why it was difficult for him to abandon what he had started, leave his empire in the hands of Duo and then head out for the core.

_______

Now Krazy Eyez Killer took the podium. He was very much an interesting character. He was one of the few people Hobbes had ever met that had refused a leadership role, especially at a crucial period of development. But nonetheless, he had seceded his position as president to Duo in favor of an advisor position. He had once been Hobbes' leader, mentor and benefactor, back in another life. Hobbes was proud to be affiliated with him. As he began speaking, Hobbes slib back into the past.

_______

He'd kicked around the core as an outcast for a while, achieving little and establishing nothing. He couldn't be a drifter, alone. Hobbes was not the sort of fellow who lived in solitude. He needed the cut-throat political scene. The inter-faction dynamics of multiple empires. It was him. So he worked his way back, back to live in comfort and luxury on the Commonwealth homeworld. This time, however, he asked his old acquaintance Krazy Eyez Killer to give him shelter. He didn't want to return to an empire he'd abandoned. Vincere Moneymus, a play on an ancient empire from another time, from another KEK, was just the right kind of empire. Quiet, with an emphasis on peace. It was, Hobbes felt, perfect for his own self.

_______

The ceremony concluded, Hobbes stood with the other Commonwealth delegates and applauded. He cheered for all that had been achieved, and all that would be.

The Alliance's Latest Posterchild

Early Days on Bakunin, as told by Wystan of the Disorganized Society of Freedomists

The Alliance had barely been set up on Bakunin when Wystan arrived. It only had two empires, the Alliance of Stargate Pirates and the weirdly named With Honour. And the leader of the ASP was in power as the President, and few people who lasted were on the council. The whole place was just a backwater planet in Wystan's opinion. And apparently it was being ruled by opportunists who could get to vice-president while just asking to be advisor.

The "leaders" of the faction were having a "private" discussion with their entourages when Wystan burst into Liberty Hall, two guards trailing him. As they tried to grab him, he kicked them off, "Get off me, you fascists! I got the right to speak my mind!" The leaders, briggy and Brandon had startled looks as Wystan then berated their empires. "Oh, 'Alliance' is all well and good, but where's the freedom?" Wystan asked the emperors. It was at this point that four guards managed to get a grip on Wystan. "Take this freedomist out of here," ordered briggy, and Wystan was taken from the meeting room, and thrown out of the great doors of Liberty Hall.

It was a rather sore Wystan that proceeded to Heartland City, his personal capital. The Palatial Suite in Freedom Tower in Heartland City was prepared when he arrived, sopping wet and somewhat downtrodden. To the dismay of the Suite cleaning staff, the trash and dirt was brought in on the bottoms of Wystan's jackboots, which to their horror, he then placed on the suite's dining room table. A butler fainted somewhere behind him as he then ate his dinner in his lap.

Wystan awoke the next day when the doorbell rang. He was lying on the carpet at the head of the dining room table. The chair had fallen over in the night, and most of his head was covered in what he assumed was drool. After wiping off the drool, Wystan stood up, and answered the door.

"How did you get in he-" he managed to blurt out before a pistol was stuck in his face. A man was standing in front of him, a pretty tough guy who checked the rooms of the suite before hustling Wystan from the building at gunpoint, and then forcing him into the back seat of a chaufeurred car.

"What the hell is this all about?" asked Wystan, "Who are you?"

The stranger turned to him, "I'm Rotten, and I caught your speech about freedom and liberty. I want to make this 'Empire of the Free' you talked about."

"The nerve you have!" exclaimed Wystan, "You put a gun in my face, then abduct me, totally disregarding any conventional wisdom, totally forgetting about proper procedures... Dammit, why didn't you do this sooner! Of course, I can see a fellow Freedomist when he kidnaps me!"

Overnight, the faction had changed. No longer did the juggernaut of the the ASP control the faction. briggy's With Honour empire had been peacefully overthrown by fellow Freedom-lover Andistyr, in his Dralrak Alliance. From the shadows of the faction arose the Knights of Darkness, whose purpose the other empires had only hints at. And Wystan had built the Disorganized Society of Freedomists, dedicated to preserving freedom and liberty throughout the Universe. A free society was being dreamed up on the streets of Bakunin. A society full of hope and goodness.

All in all, wished Wystan, maybe Freedom can be free.

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