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I don't suppose it would be allright to post stories here that we've written our selves?
I don't even know if posts have a word limit.

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A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away....
"Never. I'll never turn to the darkside. You've failed your highness. I am a jedi, like my father before me."
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It seems to me that if there is a limit, its on the number of characters, not words (for database reasons).

And if there is a limit, its not imposed over the text box used for entering messages. I pasted a 122,000 character Fan Fiction I wrote into this, and it pasted the whole thing.

Would it have posted?? I don't know.
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I was hoping to get Jay's word, since he seems to be the forum boss around here.

Starkiller, why didn't you post it?

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My website is filled with literally hunderds of pages of stories I've written, i I have the time, I might translate a few and post it here.
“Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in any country.” — Nazi Reich Marshal Hermann Goering
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I've seen some very long posts during my time here. I seem to recall a forum member by the name of "Rebel Scumb" that used to post stories here.
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Darth Chaltab, by stories, you mean, anything at all, or Star Wars fanfic?
“Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in any country.” — Nazi Reich Marshal Hermann Goering
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Originally posted by: Darth Chaltab
I was hoping to get Jay's word, since he seems to be the forum boss around here.

Starkiller, why didn't you post it?
Well, the last time I mentioned having written it, I got this kind of "OMG, I cannot believe he would do something that stupid/silly" type reaction (or at least, it seemed that way to me).

Tell you what, I'll post the first chapter. If people want more, I'll provide more.

Chapter 1: The Truth is realized

“Operator, could you please get me the Pentagon? No, don’t worry about the charges. Yes, I’ll wait.”

I had been watching the local news. There had been the usual stories about corruption, sports, bad weather, and a murder. But today something was different. The anchors didn’t make much of the report. A number of triangular objects had been detected by United States satellites. The report said the size was not determinable, but I could not believe that. One very grainy image had been released to the public. I was looking at it on the TV. No other information was released.

My jaw was sitting in my lap. Could it be true? Could it really be? Was I seeing what I thought I was seeing? It had to be. There was no mistaking that shape. It was a shape that would forever be ingrained in my mind.

My first reaction was to call the Pentagon. I had to let someone know what I knew.

It took a while to get through, but I was finally successful.
“Hello, this is the Pentagon phone system. If you know the number of the office you wish to access…”
Darn it. I got the stupid phone system. I waited on the line for 10 minutes waiting for a human to pickup.
“Hello, this is the Pentagon switchboard. How many I help you?” a human voice on the other end said.
I responded, “Hello. I was just watching the local news, and I saw a report on a grainy image taken of some objects located out in space. I might have some crucial information concerning these shapes. I am sorry to say that I do not know who I need to speak to about this.”
“Well, if you will let me put you on hold, I will see if I can rout your call where it needs to go.”
Before I could say anything, I was on hold and listening to the usual easy listening. I stayed there for about 15 minutes. It was then that I finally got some response.
“Hello, office of General David Johnson, can I help you?” A male voice came through.
I repeated. “Yes, hello. As I was telling your switchboard operator, I was watching the local news, and I saw a report on a grainy image taken of some objects located out in space. I might have some crucial information concerning these shapes.”
“And what information might that be?” The man asked with a slightly indignant tone in his voice.
“Now, please don’t hang up on my as soon as I say this, because it will sound very strange, but I know exactly what ships those are, and where they come from.” I paused.

“Those are Imperator-class Star Destroyers, one of the most powerful warships of the Galactic Empire.”

As I finished, there was a strange silent on the other end. Had I been cut off? Did I sound THAT crazy? There was no dial-tone, so I didn’t think I had been hung up on. Then I heard the voice on the other end.
“Ooooookkkkaaaaaayyyy. Sir, how would you know that?” the voice was very patronizing.
“Well, I shouldn’t say I’m sure about it. But the general outline of the ship fits.” I replied.
“Well sir, tell you what. I’m going to hang up now, and I’ll take your idea under advisement and inform the general.”
“Wait, just a second. Before you hang up, let me add one last thing. These ships, they are approximately 1600M long and if I’m right about these ships, we are all in deep trouble.” I ended and waited.
There was another prolonged pause. Very prolonged. As before, I knew I was still connected, because again there was no dial-tone.
“Ahhh, sir. I’ve been advised to ask you for some additional informati…”
“What, you mean I’m right?” I interrupted.
“I’m sorry, I can’t say anything about it, but if you would give me some more information, it would be very helpful.”
This was getting annoying. I wanted to help, but government secrecy was getting in the way.
“Look, without knowing more information, I can’t give you any information that would be importance. You’ve got my number on your caller ID if you change your mind.”
At that I hung up.
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interesting......................................
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Chapter 2: I think I struck a nerve

I didn’t sleep well that night. The hesitance on the phone only confirmed my fear. The Empire was here. But how was it possible? The Galactic Empire was just the figment of one man’s imagination, turned into the greatest Science Fiction phenomenon in the history of the Earth. Yet, there was at least 1 Star Destroyer in the solar system. I spent the night thinking out the possibilities.
Perhaps the broadcasts of the Star Wars movies had somehow reached some other planet, light-years away, and the inhabitants had used them as blueprints, and now they were coming to investigate the origin of the signal.
Or maybe it was just a strange coincidence.
I got up and was working on breakfast when the doorbell rang. I got there, and looked through the peephole. I saw two suits waiting there. I opened the door, after tying off my robe, and greeted the 2 men there.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
“Sir, we’d like you to come with us.” The one on the left said.
“What, now? Do you mind if I finish breakfast and get dressed?”
Upon finishing breakfast and getting dressed, I was escorted out of the house and told to sit in the back of a black car. I found myself going to the airport and taken on board what looked like a private jet. There, several more suits and 1 military man, a General, greeted me.
“Please, sit.” I was offered a plush seat. “Would you care for something to drink?”
The nice treatment made me uncomfortable.
Not answering the question, I spoke the first thing that came into my mind.
“General David Johnson, I presume? Now, either I’ve really screwed up my taxes this year, or you’re here because you want to know what I know about the Star Destroyers. Do I assume the intent of this meeting, accurately?”
“Right on the money.” The General replied. “And I hope you plan on being cooperative about the information you ha…”
I interrupted, “A threat?? Why this must be really important. Look, as I told the man on the phone last night, without more information, I can’t help you.”
“For reasons of national security, we can’t tell you anything more than that report.”
“General, I hate to say it, but if I was right about the size of the ship, you have much more to worry about than a little news report. This goes way beyond the scope of ‘national security’, sir. One of those ships can subjugate an entire world.” I retorted. I was somewhat stunned. They truly had no idea what was going on or the magnitude of this development.
I continued, “Look. I don’t want to hold anything back from you or the government, but I must have more information. If I can have the complete story, from the beginning, I can advise you and anyone else you might think will need to know this stuff.”
The General and some of the suits huddled and discussed the matter.
“Alright. You promise that if we give you all the information we have, that you will give us an idea of what we are dealing with?” asked the General.
I gave them my answer. “Deal. And if you continue to give me information, I can continue to give you information. Not to sound like I’m full of myself, but there are few in the world that know as much about this subject than I do. That is a plain and simple fact.”
“Good.” The General turned to a man at his side “Have the pilot prepare for takeoff.”
“Wait a second.” I interrupted. “Where are you taking me?”
“Washington D.C. If you expect to brief anyone that needs to know this information, we need to get you there. I will tell you what I can on the ride there.”
“Could I make a small request first?” I muttered. “Depending on how long I’m there, I may need another set of clothes, razor, toothbrush and that kind of stuff. Plus, if you want the definitive information, I have some books at my house that could help. I may be good, but I’m not perfect.”
The General paused, then turned to the 2 men that had brought me.
“Take him back to his house. Help him get whatever he needs.”
Turning to me, he said, “Take the time you need. 2 changes of clothes should be fine. You probably will not be in D.C. for long.”
With that I was taken home. I grabbed what books I could, stashed them in a book bag. Then I threw 2 changes of clothes in a small suitcase. I was in and out of the building in 20 minutes. We arrived back at the plane an hour after leaving, and were in the sky in 10 minutes.
I couldn’t believe it was happening. I was going to Washington D.C. to brief politicians and top-brass military about the situation. Once we were level and cruising, I was given the information I had wanted in the first place.

The General began:
“At approximately 2034 hours, 4 days ago, United States surveillance satellites began to detect a massive energy signature. The strange thing was, it was not familiar to any of the scientists, and it appeared to be emanating from somewhere off the planet. It wasn’t until about 30 hours later that we were able to get a reasonable estimate on the location of the power source. We steered several large telescopes to search the area. It took us the next 72 hours for us to find, and confirm exact location of the power. Several pictures were taken, and the worst looking one was given to the press. When we get to Washington, you can get a look at the rest. We have been monitoring the source, these triangular objects, Star Destroyers as you have called them, and they do appear to be moving towards Earth. When I left very early this morning, the ships were closing in on Jupiter’s orbit. At the clip they are moving, they should be orbiting the Earth in 36 to 48 hours.
We can estimate their size by referring to other objects in the solar system, and you are correct. They do appear to be around 1600M long. That was obviously not revealed to anyone on the outside, so that is why we knew you had information that could be helpful.”
I sat in awe. It was true. It was all true. There was no mistaking it. I hoped my jaw wasn’t very slacked. My greatest dreams had come true. We were all part of the Star Wars Universe.
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I hope there is more of this to come, its very interesting.
"You don't own space, so stop actin' like you do."
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So far, the entire story is 27 pages long in 10pt Arial (and its not finished. I hit some major writers-block, then I shelved the project for a while).

What I've posted so far is about 2 and a half pages worth of it.
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Awesome. Well, I hope you keep chugging along with it. Im a writer myself, though I admit ive never tried to tackle a story longer than a few pages.

I eagerly await anything else you decide to share on the forum.
"You don't own space, so stop actin' like you do."
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I don't write fanfics, but here's something I've written some time ago for my website (I write short stories, poems, kung fu reviews, and some of my old stand up routine there). Unfortunally I'm not that good at translating, so a lot of the original meaning was lost in translation.



ANALOGY OF THE UNTOUCHED BOOK

He became very surprised when he received that package sent by an old colleague who now lived in London. It was wrapped in a brown paper, addressed to his person, and had a stamp dated a from few weeks ago, being delivered by ship. He didn't have any news from this old colleague for a few months now, since he found out, thanks to a common friend, that this colleague had contracted an unknown form of tuberculosis in one of his trips to Asia. He remembered those news and slowly moved the package away from his own face. With the tips of his fingers he unfolded the brown paper and found out that inside the package there was a book, probably a gift. There were no notes, not a single explanation to the reason for such gift. The book had a dark, red leather cover, and it wasn't possible to see its title or author. He considered opening the book and reading its contents, but reminded himself from his colleague's disease. What if that disease was highly contagious and could have been carried through the pages of that book? Maybe his colleague had read the book several times, and now had decided to get rid of it, delivering it as a gift to his old profession colleague, himself? What if he had breathed over the pages of that given volume, or coughed over it, impregnating it with that mysterious and lethal desease? Decided on what to do, got the book away from himself, letting it rest over a wooden table at the studio.

During that night, under the candle light that burned on the silver candelabrum, he merely watched that mysterious book supposedly impregnated, that rested over that same wooden table at the corner of his studio. Sometimes a servant would go down to where his master was and ask him if he needed anything, to which he only nodded his head saying "no", indicating that he was comfortable in his nightly solitude. He would then have his attention back to the book, which seemed to be watching him back like an owl. The moving flames on the candles created a small trembling movement to the book's shadow, making it even more isolated and mysterious.

Days passed and the book remained untouched. It now rested over an empty bookshelf in the library. He took the care of removing all the books that were previously occupying the bookshelf, letting them piled up in some other place, so that the bookshelf would be of exclusive use of the given book. He instructed all the servants, from the cookers to the coachman, telling them to never open the book and never let it be close to themselves. And there was the book, in the center of that huge empty bookshelf. The red volume was kept laying down on it's side, in a position no book ever would have in a bookshelf, showing itself in a lonely way to whoever entered the library and saw that only empty bookshelf in a room full of filled bookshelves. And in such isolation the book was kept over the years, almost fogotten.

He got the news, this time over the monthly newspaper, that the old profession colleague had finally died of the feared lung disease, and that his funeral was a huge happening in London, because of the significance of his works and merits. As he read about his old coallegue's death, he reminded himself of the abandoned book. He went to the room where it was and saw that it remained there, resting, unmoved, untouched. He considered opening it for a moment so he could find out what were the contents of that book once and for all. After all, if there was any harmful effect contaminated between the pages of that book, it was long gone, or it would have contaminated everyone, and there was no one sick around there. But he decided not to do it. Such a long time without opening it, why would he do such thing now? It didn't matter anymore, since the late coallegue had perished, he could not ask him to see if he had received the gift and enjoyed it. And abandoned the book continued, imaculated, never opened.

But in his own death bed, several years later, he asked one of his servants to fetch that book and delivered into his hands, so that he could finnaly open it and find out its contents. Now that he was about to die, it didn't matter anymore on what such act could cause.
“Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in any country.” — Nazi Reich Marshal Hermann Goering
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Wow. That is great Starkiller! Funny stuff.

I can't post any of my story now, though, because it is on my father's computer. It is a science Fiction story something like The Best of Starwars and Startrek combined. But with less interestion characters.

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Well, here's what I'll do.
Since you guys seem to like my story, I'll create a new thread, and post what I've got. I'll do each chapter as a separate post, to better break the story up.
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I might as well post the first part of My story here now.

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[prologue]

In the Aldranea Galaxy, it is the summer of 2409, and the long and bloody Fourth Galactic War is finally over. And that war's heroes can finally enjoy a moment of peace. But evil never sleeps, and those who allow hate to burn inside them will eventually lash out and find away to take their revenge...

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Tales from the Galactic Wars: The Secret Within--Chapter One: A Moment's Peace

It was a day not unlike any other, as far as the temperate days go on planet Kanta. A gorgeous sunny day, and Jim Raynor was finally home. He drove a rented land speeder. A Ford. Typical of the rental companies. But that didn’t matter, because Jim was almost to his house—his home. The Raynor Estate they called it. But estate probably was a bit of an exaggeration. It was really nothing more than a mid-sized mansion, seated on the crest of one of the rolling hills outside Kantapolis, surrounded by a low stone fence that marked the 20-acre boundary. And it was truly not very different than any of the other hundreds of houses similarly located. But that didn’t matter either, because Jim was home.
Jim drove the red-and-silver flying sedan up his driveway and brought it to a park near the front door. He didn’t see either of his parents’ cars in the driveway. And the garage door was shut, but his parents never parked their cars there anyway. Jim shut off the engine and climbed out of the vehicle. He’d needed to stretch anyway.
“Well. This is it,” Jim said to his companion, Sarah Steele. The woman looked up at the house. She seemed interested, but didn’t speak. Jim fumbled for his house key, which was still shiny despite all the years of neglect. And then the door was open, and the two soldiers stepped inside. Jim kicked his shoes off and threw his stuff on the coffee table. Behind him, Sarah removed her brilliant pink and purple cloak and hung it on the coat rack
”So,” she started, “This is the famous Raynor estate. Nice.”
”Yeah,” Jim replied absently, only somewhat noticing that she didn’t seem to be nearly as impressed as most people who saw it, “But what I’m wondering is, where is everybody?”
”Beats me,” Sarah replied, still examining the architecture and furnishings.
”Is this pine she asked?
Jim walked into the kitchen. The kitchen was divided from the front parlor by a rather plain looking right wall. Directly across from the entrance was a bright blob that represented the sun coming in though the wall of windows and the fortiglass door that opened into the pool area. On Jim’s right, the hall lead to the bedrooms looked exactly as Jim recalled, save for a more faded carpet, and to the left, the living room was darkened. Dividing the cooking area from the dining area, a marble counter ran through the middle of the room, and on that counter that stayed so cluttered during Jim’s childhood, rested only a single open data pad with a simple note. Welcome home. And just then from behind, a cacophony of voices behind him--
”SURPRISE!!!” Jim turned to see is parents along with many of his old friends and their wives. Bill, Rick, Joe, Itin… and Jim was overwhelmed with emotion, something that he forgot was possible for him.
”Welcome home, Jim,” Jill Raynor said as she embraced her son. “I’m so glad your home. It seems like you’ve been gone forever.”
”Well. Eleven years is a long time, Mom,” answered Jim. “I suppose I’ve gone through a lot since then. I’m not sure I’m even the same person you remember.”
Jim’s father ignored Jim’s moment of deep thought, “Welcome home, son,” and he extended his hand. Not surprising, Jim thought. His dad was never a big fan of emotional reunions, and he didn’t really care too much for Jim’s decision to join the military in the first place. He always feared Jim would end up dead like…
”Hey Dad,” was all that Jim could muster.
And then out of the parlor, came Joe and Itin, carrying an enormous cake. One that didn’t look entirely edible, Jim observed. After a few short greetings with his old buddies, the group got Jim to sit at the head of the table in front of the enormous cake.
It had writing on it. Happy Homecoming.
And suddenly the top of the cake popped off and a familiar slender figure rose from the inside.
”Melissa!” Jim blurted as he hoisted the girl into the air out of the cake and onto the floor beside him. Though no less human than anyone else in the house, Jim was remarkably strong.
”Wow. I thought you were going to be running some errand out on Guetro!” Jim continued, now elated.
”Well, I wanted this to be a surprise,” Melissa replied. “Who is she?” Melissa asked, with more than a trace of jealousy in her voice. She had pointed to the beautiful redheaded woman across the room. Sarah. Jim had almost forgotten about her. Jim was across the room in a nanosecond.
”I would like you all to meet Sarah Steele,” Jim announced to the room. “She was… John’s wife...”
An awkward silence filled the room and Jim wished it hadn’t come up. He could already see that Sarah was upset. John had been a great friend to Jim, but he was Sarah’s husband. There was no way he could understand how she felt—how much more of a loss it was for her. But he had already told his parents the story, and that was that.

Sarah Steele was certainly upset. She didn’t like to think about John. The way he had died—how he was murdered. Disgraceful for a Seiin…for anyone. But Jim hadn’t meant to upset her, and she wasn’t mad at him. She couldn’t understand why John’s death still upset her so much. It was so long ago. Perhaps it was the way he had died.
Murdered… By a Zoine. How could her John die that way?
A sudden movement from the olive-skinned, black haired woman across the room caught Sarah’s eye. Melissa moved across the room to the electronic wardrobe on the wall. A few button-taps and a flash of light later, her ridiculous cake-girl costume was replaced by a white T-shirt and blue-jean shorts.
”I’m fine, really,” Sarah said to no one in particular. And it wasn’t really all that true, either. She decided that she needed time to be alone.
What a day. First she missed the ship that was supposed to take her to Iif, where her own space boat was docked, and then she almost broke down in front of Jim’s family.
She scanned the area for a place she could retreat to—somewhere she could go to be alone while she argued with herself about things. A back door that opened onto the pool area caught her eye and she knew she found her escape.
”Is it okay if I use your pool, Mrs., Raynor,” Sarah said to the older woman standing next to Jim. Or at least she assumed she was about 50, being Jim’s mother. She looked remarkably young for her age.
”Of course, dear,” the older woman replied, “And call me Jill. In fact, I think I might join you.”
Strange, Sarah thought. But she wasn’t going to argue. She followed Jill out to the pool area, roughly 250 square feet, Sarah estimated, the pool taking up half the space. A few quick selections on the Wardrobe, a flash, and Sarah’s jumpsuit was replaced by a red and purple one-piece swimsuit that fit remarkably well for one not being Sarah’s. Jill did the same.
“The game’s about to start!” was the last thing Sarah heard before she was submerged in chlorinated water.

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Chapter Two: Prelude to Revenge

The mercenary pirate Kiva Andur sat in the negotiations room, really the living room of a high penthouse on one of the many high-rise towers of the planet Texas. She had been hired to extract some coordinates from a Ki’lail thug who made residence here on Texas. She didn’t exactly know what they were, but the Captain was going to get well paid for it. By some rich debutante from Ki’lai, she overheard.
She had brought here her own Ki’lail companion to sense deception and for backup, just incase the deal went sour. Just as she was finishing that thought, the door across the room opened and two figures walked out.
The contact, code-named Sirius White, was a male Ki’lail, his three eyes framed by a dark emerald hair. The other figure, a Smuell of indeterminate gender had a deep lavender skin and was wearing what appeared to be armor of some sort, underneath a flowing black robe with an insignia on the chest plate.
“Welcome Ms…” He began.
“Andur,” Kiva replied.
“Ah yes the famous Kiva Andur; feared assassin, most notorious for the incident on Tol’Gil’fa. How many people died that day?”
“It looks like you do your homework,” Kiva remarked dryly.
Suddenly, Tem Path, Kiva’s lie detector sprang to her feet and screamed “It’s a trap!”
”What?—“ Kiva asked.
The walls behind Sirius White abruptly came alive as six hidden panels slid away to reveal armed sentries. Sirius White took the first shot of some sort of strange energy weapon and collapsed to the floor. From Tem’s third eye shot a blinding stream of orange light, which blew the wall to pieces, killing at least five of the dozen or more guards. The remaining guards hoisted their weapons and pink fire lanced out and burned Kiva into ashes. Her ashes appeared to sweep over the whole area and darkness consumed all until Kiva’s eyes abruptly snapped open.

Ridiculous nightmare. That wasn’t how it really happened obviously. It had, in reality gone fairly smoothly, as smooth as things Kiva Andur was involved in, at least. Her companion had been zapped by Sirius White himself, with some sort of strange psionic virus that had caused Tam to suffer for a week before she was eventually destroyed by her own mind. Of course, at that first display of treachery, Kiva had shot him. Thankfully they had gotten away, and Kiva had found a safe place to lie low while White’s lackeys were still searching.
While Tem was at the hospital, she had relayed the info she was able to attain when she had read White’s mind. It seamed to horrify her, and Kiva soon understood why. The coordinates that she was meant to extract were supposedly the location of the legendary starless planet that could destroy civilizations. It was presumed a myth, but if the Captain’s contacts were willing to pay so much for the coordinates….
Kiva had sent several transmissions to her only confidant aboard the Iien Blian, a half-vurkan named Ishori. She was serving as the science officer, but she was a skilled fighter, and probably Kiva’s only real friend. She saved back up copies on hard disks and hid those in the secret blit, a device designed to store matter as energy and convert it back again, surgically implanted in her left thy.
She predicted that her transmissions wouldn’t ever reach the Iien Blian. Captain Cortez didn’t want his location given away to the daucht police.
Kiva suddenly felt a blast of heat and the wall near her gave way. She had only seconds to react. She drilled multiple bullets from her favorite pistol Itchy into her target before she examined it to see what it was. A glance told her it was a humanoid grunt in some sort of power suit, and with her Seiin sensory powers, she could feel more. The wall was suddenly riddled with holes from machine gun fire, and Kiva took the only available escape: the window.
Bad decision! Kiva used her Seiin strength to leap to the building across the street from her apartment. The distinctive hum of an air speeder fishtailing behind her caused Kiva to leap a second time before looking back. When she did look, she discovered a black Corvette with tented windows and narrow cylinders protruding from the grill. Suddenly the cylinders came alive with machine gun fire. It was just before dawn, reflected sunlight lit most of Laredo City.
Kiva took off. She suddenly hated herself much more than ever before for never learning how to fly.
She started through town, jumping off roofs, running along the sides of buildings, skimming narrow ledges and performing all sorts of ki assisted acrobatics. Unfortunately, the speeder stayed behind her, pouring machinegun fire into her general direction, and before long, and another car had joined it in pursuit, and she was beginning to feel fatigued. She leapt over some morning traffic, boosted around the corner, braced for impact. The window that she had slammed into shattered, and Kiva sent an explosion of ki around her to clear the shards of glass that surrounded her. She sprinted across the building, shot out the opposite window and leapt out to continue her flight. In mid-air, she saw one of the cars, the Corvette, round the corner created by the building she just exited. Bringing her guns around, Kiva dialed her guns to maximum power and took careful aim. She squeazed of three rounds from each gun, and the Corvette erupted into a ball of fire. Unfortunately, the remaining speeders were on her again by the time she rounded the next city block.
Kiva heard the single gun on the second speeder charge and fire, and she suddenly felt as if every nerve ending in her body was on fire. She lost concentration and began to fall.

She had managed to slow her descent. At least that is the last thought she had before she landed, and the first when she awoke. The second was "Who am I?" And the third was Daucht Bledit. Then she remembered. The chase.. the fall…
There were several pedestrians now gathered around her, and she heard the slamming of a nearby car door. She tried to set up and it hurt to move. She eventually got to her feet, and found an intact Senarium hypo in a blit attached to her belt. She injected the healing solution into her neck and the puncture was healed by the time she discarded the injection. Senarium was a remarkable healer, although quite fatal to most humanoids in all but the smallest doses. She felt considerably better now, but was still rather week from the fall.
A group of what appeared to be armed hit men appeared amongst the crowing crowd of pedestrians. She assumed attack position. The first hit man fired, and she rolled right and felt an excruciating pain in that shoulder. The pedestrians fled, and Kiva leapt to her feet. Leg sweep. Ki punch. She dogged a second stun bolt. Why stun? Her fist made contact with an enemy face and she felt bone crunch inward, as his skull tore his brain apart. In a minute 12 attackers were reduced to three.
One of the remaining hitmen got a hole drilled through him with a blast of fire from Kiva’s palm. The next was killed instantly when a powerful kick drove him into a nearby forticrete wall and broke his spine in many, many places.
Then she saw a Smuell in body-armor standing on the opposite street corner raise a stun blaster and she dogged with a soaring back flip over the third hitman. In the air, she prepared her favorite attack. The Delayed Fusion Cutter. Two atoms wide, it basically caused all the atoms in its path to fuse with the nearest atom also touched by its energy. Most never saw it coming. The final hitman was like most. The problem was the delay. The Smuell with the stunner aimed again and fired ferociously at the exhausted mercenary, and she went down.
By the time she opened her eyes and saw him, several Ki’lail in tuxedos and two-eye sunglasses were als

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Chapter Three: Duty Calls

Sarah awoke the next morning in a guest bedroom at the Raynor estate. She showered and walked to the electronic wardrobe. With a few button taps and a blaze of light, she was suddenly dressed in her favorite hot-pink shirt and a pair of jeans she bought at a flea market on Mraxis.
The previous night had been very weird. Sarah marveled at football’s amazing ability to absorb the very souls of men and cause them to ignore the dearest people in their lives. It wasn’t unexpected, though. The girls had gone up stairs and, of all things, practiced with Bo staffs, the ancient oriental weapon that was essentially a big stick designed to knock people senseless. Sarah, with her Seiin strength and martial training, had been quick to best most of the girls. Itin’s wife Mara had nearly defeated her, but Sarah had managed to rout her at the last minute with a skillful set of reverse strikes that kept Mara guessing at where to block. The only person able to defeat Sarah was Jill Raynor herself.
As Sarah decended the winding stairs of the mansion, she noticed that she couldn’t feel Jim’s ki. That was unusual, considering he was the strongest human in the house. When she got to the bottom of the staircase, she saw Jim’s family, along with some of his old friends at the kitchen table. The look on their faces told Sarah immediately that something was very wrong.
“What is going on?… Where is Jim??” were the first words out of Sarah’s mouth. Jim’s parents gave an anxious sigh before his mother answered.
“Last night, he was called by General Greglithf. He was given a Police Mission.”
“Oh…” Sarah said as her heart sank. One of the requirements of military service within the Empire of Earth armed forces was, that during peace time an even while on leave, as she and Jim now were, the government could call outstanding military officers—or any officer, for that matter—to engage in various law enforcement or investigative missions. They were especially important for international affairs because local cops weren’t allowed to police activities taking place out of their jurisdiction, and outside the Empire certainly qualified.
Sarah assumed that it was an international crisis.

Jim regretted leaving his family and Sarah in the middle of the night. He hated it. He wanted to hate General Greglithf for giving him this mission. But that wasn’t going to do any good. He was also disappointed in the outcome of the Ultra Bowl. The accursed Felt Fighting Fichuses had bested the Texas Titanic Longhorns 45 to 43. A lousy safety had decided the fate of the game! Jim ignored his anger and turned on a holo-sermon given by his favorite pastor, Reverend Justin Smith. It was about anger.
Figured.
He had downloaded the last few days worth of TV and HV programming before making the thirty-six hour warp-jump to the planet Texas, where he would use the planet’s gravity to slingshot himself to his the vector of his final destination: Felt.
The irony of the timing of his journey amused him for a minute, as well as the pastor’s joke about animal-rights activists. Jim watched the bright blue stream of hyperspace streak by out of the cockpit. He leaned his chair back and fell asleep.

Sarah was staring out the window when her own call came. General Robert Seguin, who had never been her commanding officer before, contacted Sarah at 8 PM Sunday night, Kantapolis standard time. Her instructions were to simply leave as soon as possible and go to the Ithguad Memorial Hospital in Laredo City on Texas, and that she should come prepared to have every skill in her arsenal tested.
She left at 8 AM the next morning. She was limited to public transport, since her own precious Stallion was still at Iif. She had to go on-foot, as her mission was a secret and she very well couldn’t steal one of the Raynors’ cars. She got to the spaceport around nine-thirty and found a flight to Texas. Well, she thought, this is going to be fun.

After nearly forty hours in cramped quarters on the space-bus to Texas, Sarah needed to stretch. She rented an air-car from a rental agency. To her surprise it wasn’t a Ford. It was another hour of flying before she sat down at the Ithguad Hospital. She was escorted to a room on the 320th floor, where there were several nurses and military types waiting for her. There was also a hospital bed, and on it was a woman who appeared to be sleeping.
“Welcome, Lieutenant,” began the highest-ranking military officer. ”I am Admiral John Hammock.”
“Sir,” Sarah acknowledged, “May I ask what this is about. I would like to know why I was called off my leave.” Sarah realized that she could’ve been more respectful.
“This,” the general said, pointing to the comatose woman on the bed, “is why you’ve been called here. Her name is Kiva Andur, and she works for the infamous pirate vessel the Iien Blian. I fear her confederates may be involved in matter of international security.”
“I see.” Sarah looked again at the woman on the bed. She looked to be about Sarah’s age, roughly her build, similar hair color. There were some nasty scars on her face, arms and legs. One scar on her forehead looked especially fresh. The general opened his mouth to speak.
“Our medical officer, Lt. Yalm Wessil, will brief you further.” He motioned to the scruffy-looking Tye officer on the other end of the room.
“Well,” Yalm began, “the patient, Ms. Andur, essentially seems to be in a coma. We have found no way to revive her. The most puzzling aspect, however, is her brain activity. Nearly all of her mental functions seem to be shut down. The only functions that are currently active are life processes. Though her heart still beats and her lungs still work, she essentially isn’t there. It is as if her mind is wiped clean, torn from her body.”
“Sounds like some sort of psionic attack to me,” said Sarah.
“I was thinking the same thing,” replied Yalm. “But that isn’t the most important issue right now.” Yalm pressed a button and a gravity beam flipped the cadaverous body over. He continued, “In the back of her thy,” he said, touching a portion of the woman’s leg, “there seems to be implanted an ECU.” The piece of paper in his hand that he had held over the pirate converted into energy and entered the implanted blit, concealed behind a scar in her thy.
“So what significance does this have?” inquired Sarah of Lt. Wessil.
“Wait till I show you what we found in it”

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Chapter Four: Peace, Interupted

The endless expanse of cityscape stretched out before Najenkur Kehkz as she piloted her air-car over the titanic urban sprawl called Intrepid City. She had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. This was her first time visiting her parents’ house in more than 100 years. At 272, Najenkur was no child.
She had been estranged from her parents since she had become a Christian at the mission on Celeste 90 years ago. Her parents, devout Senarianists, had not agreed with her decision and had told her not to come back. But a century can cool a temper, or make it 1000 times hotter, and in her parents’ case, a cooling certainly had taken place. They had invited her to their house to baby-sit her younger siblings, most of whom she had never met.
She set the car down in a suburban parking area a few blocks from the house. She had never been here before; when she first left her home, they had all lived on Xerguun 8. She walked down the three blocks, turned right and walked two more, and found the house where her parents now lived. As Naj approached the door, it slid open and she went inside.

Her reunion with her parents had come and gone it a strangely matter-of-fact manner. They had all seemed to simply avoid the subject of the past 100 years altogether. It was as if she had never been gone. She didn’t know if she should laugh or cry.
She had been conversing in Senarian all day, as her younger siblings did not know English, which was quickly becoming the galaxy’s chief language. Not because it was easier than Senarian, but because Earthlings, with their shorter lifespans had less time to learn the Galaxy’s many languages. The same could be said of Zoine, but few of them were even bilingual, and most were illiterate, by choice. Naj’s sister Shayla, her brother Alad, and her baby sister Tiriisi had been watching the second Star Wars movie called “Et Sekel Analis ej Pat” when Naj’s younger sister Selly walked in.

Selintou had been the only other member of the Kehkz family that she knew of to reject the arrogant philosophies of Senarianism, which basically said God ordained that Senarians were, by birth, the greatest race and had the right to rule everyone. Selly was a born-again Southern Baptist. Even after all these years, Naj couldn’t figure out what the importance of “denominations” was.
She could figure out that Selly’s arrival was fairly well-timed, however, when she got a call from her commander, Kelenthou Pen, who gave her orders to leave immediately to investigate a cult based on Somu’e called the Eyes of Vengeance. So much for a family reunion, she thought. Naj left immediately, using Selly’s space boat rather long-hauling it back to the spaceport. A few short calculations and the space streamed into the stunning blue that denoted faster-than-light travel. She may have lost her parents permanently after this, but that didn’t matter. She had no regrets. She leaned her chair back, and as she fell asleep the words of that ancient terran hymn swam in her mind: Nothing compares to the promise I have in You…

When Najenkur arrived on the Smuell homeworld of Somu’e Thursday evening, she hadn’t expected to find anything particularly pressing. Cults sprouted up all the time, especially among people as superstitious as the Smuell. Not that Naj had to like it.
Her contact, an Ajnin operative under the guise of a street urchin, led her to the enclave where the cult had been meeting. “Anything I should know before I go in there?” She asked him.
“Well. They are all psionics users,” he said. “I’m sure they already know you’re here, as strong a psionic signature as Senarians have.”
“Wonderful,” Naj remarked dryly. She entered the building in full stealth mode, with barely a slit of the stealth field pulled away to let her see. She wore a psi-blocking visor to prevent the inhabitants from seeing the slit that represented the visible part Naj’s psionic signal with their third eyes.
Naj crept through several long corridors before coming to her first obstacle, a door with two guards. Not that the guards were any problem, but the door itself was obviously not designed with nine-foot-tall Senarians in mind. The second obstacle was in the same place, though less obvious. Security cameras. Were she to take out the guards and open the door, she would be caught. Thankfully the door opened briefly, and through the threshold came several Smuell and a Ki’lail with two Ajnin bodyguards. The Ki’lail had very pale, aged looking skin. His hair was a deep, dark sapphire. Najenkur thought for a minute he looked familiar, but it couldn’t be. Ki’lail don’t live that long.
Najenkur, as quietly as she could, ran towards the door and dived through it and between the two guards. She used her psi, which didn’t have the benefit of being focused through a third eye, like that of Smuell and Ki’lail, to slow her decent enough not to make a noise when she landed. A few surreptitious glances later, she was back in the most important tool of espionage: darkness. In fact, the entire complex was strangely dark, which, while a stupid design mistake, was very convenient for any infiltrator.
Naj crept cautiously down a long corridor, mostly carved out of the natural rock now. After at least fifteen minutes, she got to what seemed to be the end. There was an alcove cut in the rock, and the far wall registered a bit warmer than the rest. She used her mind to loosen a rock precariously lodged in the cave wall and it fell and rolled through the alcove’s end as if not there. As Naj expected, a hologram. She only tested it with a rock to avoid testing it with her head. On the other side, the Senarian spy found herself in an enormous courtyard. She stood on a balcony overlooking some bizarre apparatus that resonated with psionic energy. And in the center, was Jirinau Tulva.
Najenkur didn’t want to believe it at first. How? Tulva was Ki’lail, and he couldn’t possibly still be alive. They had met nearly 190 years ago, and then he was already in his eighties. But it was impossible to mistake. That was Tulva, and he was still alive. He was obviously aged. His body looked as though it was falling apart. But that likeness was unmistakable. Perhaps he was a clone.
The assistants that had been with him earlier, sans the bodyguards, entered through a side door behind him. The one that took up the rear pushed a hover-cart full of small ovoid gems that glowed with a faint pink light. And Naj could feel them radiating psionic energies. And they felt like… people. The assistants placed nine different crystals in cylindrical podiums surrounding the platform on which Tulva stood. After a few chilling chants in So’muish and Ki’lian, The podiums glowed and light was everywhere. And beams shot from the podiums were pounding into Tulva and being absorbed. And when the lightshow was over, the assistants were dead, or lying unconscious, and Tulva alone stood, looking not a day older than thirty.

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Chapter Five: The Parade of Bloodlust


Jim arrived at Felt at noon on Monday. Felt was a pretty world to look at. Not, however, a nice place to live, at least in Jim’s humble opinion. First, it was cold. It was frigid compared to Kanta. Jim once heard that in winter people had froze to death on the equator! It was probably a myth, or a joke that became an urban legend, but it wasn’t really unbelievable.
Strangely, Jim had been invited to the house of General Colonel F. Greglithf, rather than any imperial command station. He set his boat down on the carport outside Greglithf’s house and entered. The house wasn’t extravagant, but it certainly wasn’t sparse ether. The interior was covered in finished hardwood that didn’t look to be of Feltian origin. He followed the natural progression of rooms until he found what appeared to be study. There, in one of a pair of teal armchairs next to a large fireplace, sat the general in uniform. He was reading a book and appeared to have been smoking a pipe, which was very strange for a Feltian. Colonel looked up.
“Welcome Lt. Raynor,” he said. His tone was surprising because it wasn’t the strict “general tone” that he had always heard Greglithf use. It was more of an old-man tone. The kind of tone that someone else’s benevolent grandfather would use to greet a visitor when visitors had been sparse.
“Sir,” Jim acknowledged. He wasn’t sure what to make of Greglithf’s unusually jovial tone.
“Have a seat,” said the general. He pointed to a huge trophy mounted on his wall. It was some kind of enormous turquoise creature with humanoid features and massive horns. “You see this on my wall here?” he asked rhetorically.
“Sir, yes sir, very hard to miss, sir,” came Jim’s nervous reply.
“This here is a hathalou ghoct,” the general continued. “Shot’im back in 69’—I was a much younger man then, Mr. Raynor.”
Jim nodded, not wanting to agree or dispute in fear of arousing the infamous Greglthf temper.
“Alas, I am now much too old to go on the hunt. But strategy. Strategy is my calling now. And allowing terrorist cults to go unchecked is not sound strategy. Unfortunately, that is what is happening. Ever since the ToFu act, these crazy hate cults have gone unchecked and threaten to evaporate the fragile peace this galaxy finally enjoys”
The “ToFu” act the general had referred to in the speech he had obviously been rehearsing was the now-infamous Total Freedom of Religion Act of 2365. It basically made any and every cult legal within the Empire of Earth. Before, only monotheistic religions that the constitution had deemed “legitimate” had been allowed to practice in open public. Unfortunately, a small group of Parthonian activists had pushed for a new stance, and more unfortunately, it had won. The fruits of this mistake were reaped in 2470 when the same Parthonian groups ceased control of the government facility on Iif and used its defenses to level half a city in the name of their god of justice Salith. Apparently the Parthonians had some sort of taboo against eating cucumbers, which was the chief industry on Iif at the time. Jim’s opinion of the law hadn’t increased any when his brother Trav had been killed in an uprising of Vorth Monks.
“What are you talking about, sir?”
“I am talking about a new cult called the Eyes of Vengeance. They are mostly Smuell and Ki’lail. The have a furiously anti-Senarian rhetoric. They hate Senarians. And they are militant. Or so the evidence indicates.”
“Can one really blame them for hating Senarians?” Jim inquired, tongue in cheek.
“This is serious! No joking Raynor! Your orders are to infiltrate their enclave on the outskirts of Coil. Gather info and report back to me.” The aged-general handed Jim an equipper and bid him fairwell.

Jim reached the location of the cult’s enclave with in the next four hours. He used a second quipper to cloak himself in the most inconspicuous clothing one could use on a man of Jim’s size. He flowed though the endless stream of pedestrians, trying not to stand out among Coil’s 500 million inhabitants and visitors.
On the outskirts of the city, he ran into a suburban area in which the cult was known to operate. After a few minutes he came upon what appeared to be a parade. A parade made of mostly Smuell and Ki’lail. He heard their loud chant from several blocks away.

Boiin-Moiin-FanTan-Choin
Boiin-Moiin-FanTan-Choin Ba-Doin
Boin Moin Fantach oin Bad al-al oin.

To avoid the mind-reading glares of the paradeers’ third eyes, Jim ducked into a narrow side street. There he found it crowded but manageable. Then he saw a Smuell in a familiar robe, with the three-eye insignia. He had his back to Jim, and walked hurriedly, concealing something in this cloak. Jim knew then that the parade was only a diversion for some less legitimate business. He followed the Smuell as he droned on in the annoying singsong dialect of So’muish.

Boiin-Moiin-FanTan-Choin
Boiin-Moiin-FanTan-Choin Ba-Doin
Boin Moin Fantach oin Bad al-al oin.

Jim had been cautious not to be caught following his quarry. It was obvious that this guy was no genius. He was clearly a lackey and by extension lacked any real intelligence. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been chanting his religious mantra the whole way home.
After following him for about half a mile through the crowded streets of the capital, the careless cultists had found his way to an ancient and purportedly abandoned district of the city. There, predator and prey made their way to an ancient cathedral in honor of who knows what. Jim turned on his stealth field and followed the foolish Smuell in.
The Smuell cultist chanted his mantra again at the altar and it slid away, revealing a staircase that Jim followed him down cautiously. The basement corridor led to a huge open convocation center where hundreds of three-eyed creatures were gathered in front of stage with a large podium. And they were all chanting. All chanting…

Boiin-Moiin-FanTan-Choin
Boiin-Moiin-FanTan-Choin Ba-Doin
Boin Moin Fantach oin Bad al-al oin.

The curtain at the end of the stage pealed away and from behind it stepped a beautiful Ki’lail woman. Her hair was shoulder-length and a deep magenta, and her three eyes scanned the crowd of followers. From their now wild euphoria, Jim had no doubt she was the cult’s leader. She steeped forward to an audio-mic and began to speak in Ki’lian. Jim extended the reach of his stealth field, and brought out his pocket translator and read the speech she gave.

”…And, at last we will take our vengeance. The Senarians that so long ago drove us away from our homes and tore apart our empire will fall. And we will then be free to reclaim the control of the Galaxy that is rightfully ours!!!! I have now obtained the final key to our victory. The key that has so long eluded us is now in my possession. Shortly I will decipher the coordinates of the weapon. The weapon that was stolen from us so long ago! I go now to our home base on Somu’e to meet with my master, Tulva. He will then go with me to the Starless of old and we will destroy the hated enemy forever!”

Jim shuddered as he read off the text. If memory served him correctly, about 800 years before terrans had come to the Aldranea galaxy, Senarians had invaded the space of the ancient Xel Empire and torched Ki’lai and Somu’e from space. And then there was the legend of the starless weapon planet. It was said that the ancient Senarian General Pelenthou Kehkz captured it and had used it to win that war.
If it really existed…

Then the crowed started again, louder than ever. Boiin-Moiin…Jim looked down at his translator again and read the numbing chant that he had been hearing for hours but not comprehending.

“The Secret Within!

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