Slayer is sitting in his office.

He feels a warm breeze on the back of his

neck and he can smell the blood on the breeze. "What do you want?"

"There is no need to take that tone." The voice was soft almost musical
but cold and evil in its resonance.

"You have no place here. Go back to your desert." The bitter hiss in
Slayers voice betraying his anger.

"We have much to talk about, you and I."

Slayer turns from the window and stairs into the bleeding eyes of his
intruder.

"We have NOTHING to discuss! Leave!" Slayers voice had risen to a deep
growl.

"Oh come now, here we are to old friend just..."

"FRIENDS! You should know your place and that place is not here!"

"I know, but it will be, it will be soon."

"Over my d..." Slayer stopped mid sentence realising what he was about
to say.

"Exactly. Cold, dead and lifeless. Not much change really. Be seeing you,
seeing you real soon, my dear old friend." Maniacal laughter echoed round
the office then dissipated.

Four Black Chapter guards burst through the doors of Slayers office.

"Sir, we detected an intruder in the building."

Slayer turned and watched the rain lash against the window.

"You're fired, sergeant. Get out."

6:45 a.m. Just after the broadcast of Slayers death has ended.

[sounds of TV static]
"Shit..."

[sound of phone dialling]

"Hi James what the fuck is going on? Is all that shit I just watched on TV
true? Slayer's dead! What do you mean you haven't seen it. Don't you
have a TV? What do you mean it's switched off? That's illegal you dick!!!
Listen, just get down to the bar I'll see you there. What... oh, eh how about
the Corn Exchange, it's open. What? What do you mean it's my round?
Look this is serious you cunt!!! Just meet me there!!!"

[later, a bar somewhere in Uptown]

"Oi, I asked for a double sweet cappuccino! Stupid bitch. Listen James this
is going down the shitter faster than a rocket powered turd. I just got the
directives from one of Teeth's freaks. He's replacing all department heads
with a fucking NecyThropes. You and I could find ourselves out of a job by
midday tomorrow."

"What about stocks and shares?"

"Forget it. When the death went public ever index dropped by 175 points
and it's still going."

"We have to do something!"

"There's only one bastard I know that could do anything to Teeth and
that's Intruder."

"Where is he? How do we contact him?"

"I don't have a clue. It's like he's just vanished. It's like 903 all over again."

"903... what?"

"Oh that's right, you were still in Ops then. Well, it seems Intruder had a
little bit on the side and was doing the horizontal Hula with her on a nightly
basis."

"So?"
"So he got this little bitch pregnant didn't he? Slayer lost the plot totally
when he found out. Had her 'disappear' and Intruder went ape about it. A
squad was sent to investigate and they locked Intruder up in Bethlehem.
Then one day when they went to feed him his morning drugs tray he was
gone. The op squad were sent on a fake Black and got slaughtered. Three
months later he turns up on some pirate Ion almost dead from some fight
he got into or something."

"A fight? What with?"

"Nobody knows but... I'm getting off subject here. Listen, I've got 27
squads on my books what do you have?"

"About 15."

"Right, give me that Oyster."

"What are you doing?"

[sounds of typing]

"Too late it's done. We now have 42 of the best op squads on Mort looking
for our old pal Intruder. Now you get back up to HQ and stop those ebon
freaks going through our files and I'll start asking questions at Cloak. By
the time we are finished its Teeth that will be out of a job and we'll run
SLA."

"This is sedition!"

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up! Just get on with it! This is progress you
bastard, you hear me! Fucking progress!"

[Central HQ Slayer office]

"I want Accelerator pillars installed by midnight."

"Yes, Preceptor."

"And get this desk out of here."

"Yes, Preceptor."
"Are Slayers files unlocked yet?"

"Eh, no Lord Teeth. The Corrosion Ebons are having problems with the
interface."

"Tell them it best be done before I relocate Society or they will all find
themselves getting close before sunrise, understood?"

"Yes, Preceptor."

[sound of footsteps across marble floor]

"Ah, Senti. I'd recognise that sound anywhere. Pity Slayer didn't."

"I didn't kill him, Teeth!"

"I never said you did, girl. Feeling guilty?"

"I'm not playing your game Teeth! What is going on here?"

"I thought that would have been obvious to a witch like you..."

"Mort is going to hell rather rapidly as far as I can see."

"And from the chaos there shall rise a new order."

"Hmmm, sounds familiar. Oh, now I remember Slayer 150BSD, speech to

the Army of Light wasn't it?"

"Be careful Senti, my patience is not what it used to be."

"Is that a threat?"

"Let me put it this way, you have neither Slayer nor Intruder to hide behind
anymore and your power is no match for mine. Be careful what bedfellows
you keep now, my dear."

[a monitor flickers into life on the wall. an ebon face appears]

"Lord Teeth?"

"Yes, what is it?"

"Sire, Angel is here as you requested."

"Good, send him in. Senti you may leave. I have business to discuss with
Mr Angel."

[Angel Tower, Artery - 3:30 a.m. SMT]

"Confirmation has just come in, Director Hagen."

"Excellent. Tell the good doctor I will see him now."

"Yes, sir."

[sounds of door opening and brief conversation]

"Director Hagen, it's so good to see you again."

"I'm sure it is. What have you got for me?"

"The genetic sequencing went well and all the test data is very
encouraging. I'm sure we could have a working prototype within say three
months."

"Three months?"

"Yes, the bio..."

"You have ten days!"

"Ten days? The hex coding will take at least that. These new system
parameters will..."

"I don't need your excuses, doctor. I've seen all your research notes, I've
done the calculations myself. It should take no longer than ten days for
you to bring the breeders to full capacity."

"But Director Hagen..."

"No more excuses! In case you haven't noticed they just handed this
glorious company over to the biggest freak in the universe! Do you want
them to rule over you? Do you want them to tell you what to think, what to
do, what to eat? I don't need half breed Stormers three months from now! I
need the FireHounds rolling off this production line in TEN DAYS!!! Do I
make myself clear?"

"Yes, Director."

"Good. Now, fuck off!"

[SLA HQ - Slayers Office - 5:09 a.m. SMT]

[The Ebons lifeless body slid down the wall, the friction cables round her
neck clattering on the marble floor. As her eyes close blood trickles from
her nose]

"The rest of you get back and break open those files or the same fate will
befall you."

[group of Ebons "Yes Lord Teeth" sound of footsteps as they leave]

[sound of footsteps]

"What is it that troubles you now, Gabriel?"

"Preceptor, the home world is refusing to send the Dreadnoughts you

requested from the fleet."

"Why am I not surprised. How many loyal followers do we have on Static?"

"Very few my Lord. None on the Council."

"I don't want to kill them, Gabriel. They are almost our kind and with a
push they could well be of our blood, but I can't tolerate this
insubordination. I am the head of this company and the leader of their
race, they must be taught a lesson."

"But Preceptor..."

"No, Gabriel, I will not be dissuaded by your weak willed sentimentality for
that race. I listened to you once and it cost Society dearly. Send thirty
Unions to Static with orders to take control of the Council and kill anyone
that resists them. If necessary bombard the planet from orbit first. That
should get their attention don't you think?"
"Lord..."

"DO IT!"

"Yes Lord."

[The Lightchild Fold Cruiser - 2:15 p.m. SMT]

"Captain, the navigator has sensed a foldwake!"

"Ready all batteries! All crew increase Sense input. Navigator, place the
Lightchild between the disturbance and Static. Nothing gets through!"

"We have contact!"

"Show me!"

"I have sensed four contacts. Three Destroyers and. "

"And what?"

"It's the Gorgon, sir. The Primus Navigator's ship."

"I will talk to him."

<Primus Navigator, stop. This is wrong.>

<Right or wrong it is how it shall be.>

<Teeth is mad to think he can win this.>

<The Preceptor is our leader. You will obey his commands!>

<Not this time, Kraken.>

"Sir. Sir, the Gorgon is charging its flux capacitors."

"Backlash and prepare to return fire."

[sounds of explosions and screaming]

"Direct hit, secondary Wave dorsal, Navigator chamber, primary flux
batteries aft. We are losing ebb cohesion."

"Fire!"

"Four strikes, moderate damage to Gorgon."

"The three Destroyers are trying to flank us. We can't stop them all!"

"Send communications to the Retribution!"

"Sir? The Retribution is a derelict."

"No, she only plays dead. Now send the word to open fire to its navigator
before we all die."

[Static, High Council Chamber 2:20 p.m. SMT]

"The battle has started. The Retribution and the Lightchild have taken
heavy damage."

"Teeth's ships?"

"One crippled the others fight on."

"What a waste of life."

"The Navigator of the Cloudcaller wants to know if they should attack."

"Not yet. Keep them on the other side of the planet for the moment. The
Lightchild should be able to defend us, unless."

"Unless what?"

"Unless this is."

[sound of air rushing away from the centre of the room]

" . a trap! Get out! Call the Guard!"

"Too late Councillor. You were given a chance and now it's time to pay the
price for your uncooperative behaviour."
[sound of gore cannon firing]

[Apartment, 6:30 a.m.]

"Again we repeat Mr. Slayer has been murdered! At around 2:30 this
morning the head of SLA Industries was found dead in his office,
murdered by an, as of this time, unknown assailant. The murder weapon,
a large ornate spear was still imbedded in his chest when Senti
discovered his body. An emergency meeting of all Department heads has
been in session for the last three hours and as yet we have had no... wait,
wait. I'm just getting something from our news desk... The emergency
meeting is over and we can go live to the steps of SLA HQ where there is
about to be a statement made about the situation.

[cough] Is this on? Is... oh. Ladies and gentlemen as you know the
unthinkable has happened and I can now officially report that Mr. Slayer is
dead."

[camera flashes and crowd noise]

"The emergency powers committee has decided that at this time the
control of SLA Industries should pass to its most loyal and longstanding
employee... The Preceptor Teeth."

[more camera flashes and crowd noise]

"Preceptor would you like to say a few words?"

"Yes, yes I would. I have taken on the responsibility of control of SLA

Industries in the most unfortunate of circumstances. I assure you all that I
will do my best to..."

[mumblings and jeers from the crowed]

"... ensure that even if this company does not continue in the exact way
that Mr. Slayer intended it will at least continue in the spirit of Mr. Slayer's
Big Picture."

[mumblings and jeers from the crowed growing in volume "Intruder,

intruder, intruder, IN-TRU-DER! IN-TRU-DER! IN-TRU-DER! IN-TRU-
DER! IN-TRU-DER! the shouts grow louder, drowning out the rest of
Teeths speech.]

[Switches back to studio reporter]

"Well as you can see there is a great deal of tension in Central as Teeth
takes charge of SLA industries... what? Jim is this for real? Can we get
some confirma... what? I'm still what? Oh, shit, right... I've just been given
this... eh order from HQ. Would all Ebon Guard members make their way
to Central HQ and report directly to members of Teeth's own union for
instructions."

[presenter looks out of camera shot]

"This is bullshit, Jim!"

[back to camera]

"Also this is the last broadcast from the Third Eye news room until further
notice. All commu....

[TV screen displays the Third Eye test card]

[The Caf Hallucination 9:30p.m. SMT]

"I want something done about Teeth."

"You do realise that this is a total breach of protocol. We're not even on
the same side encase you hadn't noticed."

"I don't think that matters at the moment. It's in both our interests that
Teeth is removed from power as soon as possible. Before he can unlock
Slayers files."

"What's in them that has you so frightened?"

"I would tell you but I'm afraid you would believe me. Let's just say we
should leave them how they are... locked!"

"I'm still not sure what's in it for me. I mean what do I get out of killing
Teeth, apart from every Necanthrope on Mort wanting to kill me."
"What you've always wanted..."

"My own TV show?"

"This is fucking serious you bastard, you freak."

"Now that's just name calling, witch!"

"You get everything that twisted little heart of yours could desire and I
get..."

"What? What do you get? Why are you so eager to see Teeth out the
way? With Slayer gone, you have nothing to stop you and your little
plans."

"There is nothing to stop 'Him' either encase you hadn't noticed."

"Oh..."

"Yes, fucking oh. I thought you had more brains than that. All those years
planting those bombs has slowed your brain!"

"Okay, okay! If I kill Teeth what then?"

"Then we have an opportunity to unite this universe in a way you never

thought possible."

"You're not making any sense. 'He' is still going to be there Teeth or no
Teeth."

"I'll take care of that. You take care of Teeth? With Teeth gone I can start
making a few moves."

"Okay, I'll be in touch. Thanks for dinner."

[Kn'nth, High Lords Chamber 11:09 p.m. SMT]

"My lord, is the news true?"

"I'm afraid so my son. It would seem that Slayer is dead. The dark times
are truly upon us."
"But the priests, they did not foresee it?"

"Not everything that comes to pass it viewed by our spiritual brethren.

Send word to the fleets, I want them all to return to the Home System as
soon as possible. We will need to gather our strength."

"My lord?"

"Do not question me, boy! With Slayer gone there is no alliance with SLA
Industries! And you can be assured that Teeth will not tolerate us for long.
Now go, gather our warriors. Prepare them for Crusade and may the gods
have mercy..."

[Static, High Council Chamber 1:03 a.m. SMT]

"Working late old friend?"

"Nothing else to do. I can't sleep."

"I don't think any of us shall sleep tonight, fearful of what we might meet in
our dreams."

"We should have declared independence. We should have thrown them

out."

"I know, but they are powerful, we may need them."

"They are few, how could they tip the balance?"

"I have served the council for sixty years and I have seen the power they
spoke of."

"What?"

"The Tas Tuo holds many secrets my friend. Secrets that we should never
know and some we never shall. Intruder taught much to our forefathers,
much more than many realise. Now is the time to awaken those that have
slept for so long."

"No, it can't be right?"

"What is right? What is wrong? Nothing is the same anymore or shall be
again. We now live in a world of constant change."

There must be another way?"

"I'm afraid not."

The last Necanthrope fell engulfed in a ball of blue flame, the fluid from its
body bubbling and hissing from broad blood red splits in its flesh. Intruder
stepped over the remains of the battle stopping at the still breathing body
of the Ebon.

"Is this what you wanted?"

The Ebon lifted her head slightly, even this slight movement causing her
great pain.

"Hel... Help me. Intruder, help me... help us."

"What can I do for you, except..." Intruders hand drove fast and hard into
the Ebons skull. The crunch of bone and cartilage echoed round the room.
" ... stop the pain."

Intruder strolled over to the wall he had impaled a Necanthrope on. He

seemed to recognise this one as he stood and examined its face with the
edge of his gutting hook. His eyes travelled skyward as he felt the pain of
the Lightchild still fighting against the trespassers. His mind reached out
and found the heart of the Necanthrope Navigator of an attacking
Foldship.

"Stop." And it did.

Looking out one of the large arched windows in the council chamber
Intruder saw the blue skies and tall elegant spires of Static and wondered
how long they would stay that way. How long this world would stay so
pure. Looking back at the distorted carnage in the chamber his shook his
head and walked slowly to the large ornate double doors that marked the
main entrance to the hall, removing the mental lock as he made his way
out into the long marble corridor.
Running to meet him where ten or so rather impressive Ebon Guard
members in full Jolt armour and equipment. They came to a sudden stop
as they saw the blood drenched Intruder walking towards them.

"Intruder, the council members?"

"All dead. The Necanthropes worked quickly, I wasn't able to save them.
You will notify the Elders that they need a new council."

"Right away sir!"

Three Ebon Guard stepped past Intruder into the chamber, two more ran
back the way they came burning flux on communications as they ran.

"Where can I get a shower?"

"What?" The Guard leader looked confused at Intruders request.

"You know, a shower. I need to clean up before I go to the pub, mate."

"But sir..."

Intruders mind reached into that of the Guard leader. Fear, pain, anger,
hatred, confusion ran rampant in this one. An Ebon with a dark mind, a
refreshing change to the norm. Twisting his thoughts through the Ebon
Intruder found what he was looking for, the last room, the primal fear. He
unlocked the door and let the demons free.

The Ebon stopped in mid sentence and began to cry. By the time Intruder
had taken four steps the Ebon lay on the ground sobbing uncontrollably.
Intruder continued down the corridor mumbling to himself...

"...a shower, all I wanted... simple bloody request if you ask me... "

As he stepped into the street the light stung at his eyes. Reaching into his
pocket he produced a pair of Dig sunglasses he had been given on some
promo shoot or another. Putting them on he wandered down the steps of
the council chamber oblivious to the chaos of Ebon activity around him.

[Later, The Changeling Bar, Highgreen district, Static 7:01 p.m. SMT]

"Hey, another cider over here when you've got a minute, mate!"
The barman was on edge and jumped when Intruder spoke to him. He bad
been here for three hours and had worked his way through twenty or so
pints. This was Intruder, leader of the Kilneck and saviour of the Ebon
race fighting against the best efforts of his hyper metabolism to keep him
sober.

"Right away... eh, Intruder."

Intruder looked up at the barman, his eye narrowed and glowed slightly.

"What? Never seen a living legend before? Go on have a good look just
like the rest of the fucking WoP. 900 years of being stared at,
photographed, videoed and interviewed! 900 years of being a media
sensation!" Intruders thoughts reached out for a target.

"S... Sorry. I didn't mean to... "

The pop of the barman's head as it exploded was barely audible over the
noise from the jukebox.

"That's okay, I feel better now. Thanks for the drinks."

The street was quiet. The Tas-Lakra, a mythical Ebon covert police force,
had made sure that there was little activity in the centre of the city. The
cool night air and light rain helped to wash some of the blood and bone
from Intruders face.

"Intruder, I've been looking for you." The voice was deep, almost a growl.

"I'm not that difficult to miss, friend."

The Stormer stepped from the doorway.

"I know, but not many are brave enough to seek you out... friend."

"Very few, mate. It's good to see you. How is Tarnish?"

"Dead. Teeth had him executed as a traitor to the company. The Stormers
are enraged and plan to seize power from him as soon as they gather
their strength. Artery has been silent for days so I don't think we can
expect any help from there."
"Old Maxon will have his own plans, I'm sure. What about ours?"

"The Ion Cruiser Graf will be here tomorrow. I had to call in some serious
favours to arrange it. The Shaktarian Lords are gathering their fleets for
battle so Ion ships are as rare as rocking horse shit. Can we get out of this
rain? I had enough of it on Mort."

"No problem, Phylos. I have an apartment around here somewhere.

Before we go I have to stop at a library and pick up some books if you
don't mind. Do you know what your name means back where I come
from?"

"No, and I don't want to. I still remember the last time you told
somebody about where you came from."

"Ah, come on that was 600 years ago. Nobody remembers that anymore."

"I do."

"Oh shut up or I'll kick your head in."

"Yeah, you and who's army? The Kilneck?"

"Oh ha ha. Very funny. On the other hand you may have just given me an
idea."

[Slayers Office 9:00 p.m. SMT]

Lord Teeth, the Gorgon has returned from Static."

"And..."

"The other three destroyers where lost in the battle."

"WHAT!!!"

"Reports indicate that Intruder helped the Ebons to defeat us."

"That abomination? How dare he!!! What about the Unions?"

"They have eliminated the council, but lost their lives in the process.
Intruder... "
"If I here that freaks name again... "

"There is more, my Lord. About an hour ago Intru... 'he' forced his way into
the Tas-Tuo and stole some of the ancient books of learning."

"This gets better all the time. Can anything else go wrong tonight?"

[Karma Breeder Lab 23, Mort UpTown 9:45 p.m. SMT]

The deathly green glow of Stormer bio-tanks fills the room. Banks of
computer monitors add to the sickly glow as they display the endless
genetic sequences of the tank occupants. The technician monitoring the
process sits with his head on his desk and the rest of his body on the chair
next to it. The figure standing over him flicks on his comm.

"This is BC Strike One to control. Lab secure. Up loading new bio codes to
the breeders. Require e-vac in three minutes..."

"Lord, what do you wish of me?"

From a dusty throne the lank figure rose. It's graceful steps down the long
set of earthen stairs measured and precise. A long elegant spear in his
hand, held by its end so that each step he took was accompanied by the
clinking sound of the spear tip as it bounced down behind him. He spoke
softly and with the menace of a hundred nightmares.

"Go to Mort."

"Yes, lord." The small figure, now shadowed by his master, seemed to
twitch and turn slightly as if the muscles of its body were in constant
spasm. The face was plain, blank, angular writhing as if a swarm of flies
lay just beneath the skin.

"Go there and find him. Find him for me and bring him here." The figure
lent forward, eyes narrowing to red slits, the glow lighting his face, glinting
against the blood. "We have much to discuss, his time has come to be
reborn."

"So soon, lord?" the small figure stepped back expecting retribution for his
impertinent question, twitching violently in doing so.
"Do not fear me my little virus. You will be my 'Herald' in this..."

Fear struck at the little deformed man. He was aware of the hundreds of
eyes watching him from the shadows. Those of rank and power that would
see him dead if his favour with his master was greater than theirs. He
looked at his master and then to the darkness from where 'they' watched.
His master placed his long bony hand on his shoulder, his claws splintered
and incrusted with dry blood and skin.

"I shall care for you..." Hissing and whispered voices softly echoed around
the chamber. The figure stood to his full height, clutching the spear in both
hands and thrusting it over his head. "Silence! Silence! Keep quiet, be still!
You will have your chance."

"But sire..." the voice from the darkness was silenced suddenly as the
spear flew from its owners hand and found its target with ease.

"You see my little virus I shall make sure you succeed. How can you fail
with me watching over you? Go now and do my bidding."

The small man nodded and hobbled out of the chamber with as much
haste as his warped body would allow. Shuffling down grimy corridors of
rock he mumbled to himself. "Herald I am. Yes, that's me Herald. Most
important I be. The lords favourite, he said so. They all heard it..."

"Heard what, little worm?"

The voice caused the small man to almost jump straight out of his
squirming skin and throw himself to the grown, covering his head with his
hands.

"Heard what, I said?"

He looked up from the dirt and dust at the woman standing in front of him.
She was beautiful but in a terrible way. Standing more than three metres
tall in her armour her hair, brilliant red in colour it almost glowed against
her deathly pale skin, cascaded down over her shoulder around and over
her ample breasts to her slender waist.

"Nothing, nothing at all mistress." The little man scurried to his feet and
tried to make his way round her. In an instant he was pinned to the wall by
an ornate armoured boot. The long sharp heel already cutting into his
neck.

"Tell me worm or I'll end your pitiful life here and now." She twisted the
boot heel a little closer to his jugular and smiled. Her blood red lips
framing her sharp white fangs.

"The Master has important work for me." He said with a certain amount of
pride, his face twitching more than usual. He knew he should not of been
so forthright, but could not help it. At least it wiped the smile from her face.

"What work?" She released him from the pressure of her boot.

"I am to Mort go and bring 'him' here. I am being a Herald." The man
smiled and made to move on down the corridor. Once more the boot
slammed into his neck pinning him to the cave wall.

"You? A Herald? Don't make me laugh. You pathetic piece of shit, I

should..." The expression on her face changed instantly from one of
arrogance to one of terror. As the, until now, unnoticed figure behind her
spoke.

"You should what, Rebecca? Please tell me. I am so interested in what

you are going to do to my little servant here." The figure motions to her to
release her hold.

She steps back from the terrified man now transfixed by her left leg,
waiting for it to strike again. Hanging her head she speaks in a low soft,
almost child-like voice. "Nothing..."

"Tut, tut Rebecca. I thought you would have known better by now." He
looks at the twitching body of his servant. "Run along little one." The man
obeys and scuttles away leaving behind a cloud of dust kicked up by his
feet. "Now what shall I do with you my dear sweet Rebecca?"

The rain had returned to Mort Central with a thunderous vengeance. The
riots had even been subdued due to the ferocity of the storm. A single
Necanthrope stands in the Central Plaza looking up through the rain at the
statue of the Kilneck.
"The Eternal Children of War. Where are you now? No more heroes." He
sensed the human presence, he knew the scent of his friend and turned to
face him. "Hell of a night Jacob."

"The kind of night for murder, Virgil." Jacob smiled and looked at the
statue. "Did you ever meet them?"

"No, they left 50 years before I was born."

"Must have been one hell of a going away party. Drink?" passing an old
Nitro Legion hip flask to the Necanthrope Jacob pulls a half finished cigar
from his coat pocket. The Necanthrope knocks back a slug from the flask
and passes it back looking at the crest on the front of it.

"What was our motto back in 74?"

"None shall see me and live. Kind of standard for Special Forces in those
days. Come on let's get out of this rain. My cars parked over there."

The two figures walk across the plaza in silence. The chauffeur stands
waiting as they reach the car and opens the door for them to enter.

"Why do you bother with all this?" Virgil motions to all the monitors in the
back of the limo.

"Well, unlike you guys I have to rely on standard forms of communication.

It's not like I can ever get away from it anyway, Investigation is kind of
busy right now."

"That's what I want to talk to you about. I need some of your best
operatives for a little mission."

"What's the mission?"

Virgil looks at Jacob with sad empty eyes "Kill Teeth."

Taken from the journal of Tyna, Ebon SCL 3a.7

The rain had eased. It's been like that ever since Slayer died. Electrical
storms had increased tenfold over the whole of Mort. Three of my friends
have died because of lightning strikes. It's like the hand of God picking
people off one by one, as if they all had their number and rank in his plan.
I've been trying to write this bloody resignation letter for the last ten hours.
How do you tell Teeth that you quit? I've seen him kill four of five Ebons in
the last two days for minor offences, but I can't stay here anymore. I have
to go back to Static and be with my family. My mother sends me daily
messages asking, no pleading with me to return. I've been offered a
position with the Ebon Communication Centre, Grade two communicator.
It's too good to pass up the chance.

Teeth has lost the plot completely, he can't control SLA and it shows. The
riots have already moved into Uptown and each night the Ops, Shivers
and the Dark Finders have a harder and harder time pushing them back
down. I had to shoot a civ last night. I threw up for an hour after it. I'm not
cut out for this place. I'm a M-script software advisor not a gun head.

The Stormers have started to attack Ebons and Brain Wasters in the
streets. It's retaliation for the murder of Tarnish, I know it is. I used to have
a good friend called Rug. He was a big Chagrin, dumb as they come but a
heart of gold. He called yesterday and said we couldn't be friends
anymore because Ebons are bad. Necanthropes are bad, evil, rotten
minds not us. I guess things are a little more black and white to Stormers.
I'll miss him.

The Shaktars are all but gone now. One way or another they left Mort, like
rats leaving the proverbial sinking ship. They were the first to see that
something was wrong and they told no one. I can't believe they would be
so callus, so uncaring. I thought their honour code would have stood for
something. I guess I was wrong. I've been wrong about a lot of things
lately

I decrypted a message from Artery yesterday that finally made my mind up

about leaving. It was just seven words to Teeth from Maxon Hagen. "You
are in the way of progress."

I never thought I'd say it but I wish that Slayer were here. He was right,
without him there is no SLA Industries, no World of Progress. I hate him
for being right. I hate him for being dead.

[The Ion Drive Freighter Graf]

"This thing is a hunk of junk, Splice! I thought you Shaktars took pride in
your ships?" Intruder sat down in one of the vacant command chairs on
the bridge of the Graf. It creaked slightly and settled. As he shifted his
weight to get more comfortable one of the arms of the chair cracks and
falls to the floor.

Splice looks up from his monitor. "Thanks, why don't I just give you and
hammer and you can break everything else while you're at it? This is
going to cost you, mate."

Intruder looked up "Give a man a hammer and then everything's a nail.

Where we're going I don't think we'll have much need for your ship
anymore..."

Splice looked nervously away from Intruder and back to his monitor. He
had known Intruder for almost 25 years and trusts him with his life, but the
Intruder that sat on the bridge was different. Through all the drugs and war
Intruder had never been this cold, distant. It was as if he had one tangible
goal left and nothing was going to stop him reaching it. nothing at all.

"We should reach RR4 in about ten days as long as the ion drives keep
cohesion." Splice slumped back in his chair. "When are your friends going
to contact us?"

"They already have." A grin spread across the face of Intruder.

"Ah, come on man, stop it with all that Ebon stuff."

"Did I say anything about Ebons?" The grin widened. "They'll meet us on
Red Rebel. As long as they make it past White."

"Shhhhhhhhhhh! Don't ever say that on a ship my friend. It's very bad. The
gods don't take to kindly to it." Splice relaxed back into his chair.

The pressure door to the bridge hissed open. Phylos squeezed his bulk,
made larger by several heavy bags he was carrying, through the doorway.
Throwing the carry alls to the floor with a loud clatter he pushes a Wraith
out of a chair and sits down.

"Hey! Watch who you're pushing tanker!" The Wraith spat.

"Or else what, fur ball?" The stormer leans back and finds he cannot stop
leaning as the chair gives way under his weight. He crashes to the ground
in a cloud of dust, bits of plastic, wood and leather.
The Wraith stands over him, with a very smug expression on his face.

"That'll teach you tanker."

"Okay people can we focus for a moment! Ryger stop fucking around with
the old stormer. Phylos, get up. You're making the place look untidy."

Intruder stands and walks over to a large table in the centre of the bridge.

"We have work to do."

The rest of the motley crew gather round and look at the digital
schematics on view.

"We are here and this is where we're going. Now, the Cads wont be
expecting a single ship so sensor nets will be set to catch higher
magnitudes." Intruder flips the control to view the next slide. "We can slip
in under their noses and land a shuttle close to the mine head. This is
where the fun starts. Its guns blazing all the way in so stay close and I'll
keep a TK shield round us for as long as I can. That should stop all but the
heavy fire from the assault units."

Phylos looks up at Intruder "Like the Fosters Point op on Cross?"

"Yup, except this time we don't have any way to e-vac if things get tricky."

"What about a fold?"

"No can do. By the time we're this close to the mine head main entrance,
the Gate will be causing too much interference and my abilities wont be
worth shit."

"Fubar!" The Wraith walks away from the others.

Splice slams his fist down on the table "I knew it, I fucking knew it! It's
always the same with you Ryger. It can't be done! It can't be done! Just
once have some balls!"

In one fluid movement the Wraith spins, draws his saber and brings it to
rest at the Shaktars throat. "Any time you feel like squirly, you just jump
lizard boy."
Phylos gently lowers the Wraiths blade. "Come on guys, get a grip. Save it
for later. If you're worried about the odds Ryger I've brought something
that should ease your mind." The stormer casts an eye to the hold alls on
the floor. "New toys for you."

The Wraith looks at the bags and then back to the stormer "What you
got?"

"I'm glad you asked." Phylos picks up one of the bags and throws it onto
the table. Ryger quickly opens it to view what's inside. Lifting the snub
nose rifle he sniffs at it disapprovingly.

"I know, it's not a sniper rifle. God Ryger could you stop being a
stereotype for five minutes! This is the FEN Reaver... prototype. Gauss
accelerated assault rifle, mark three."

Intruder interrupts his moment of glory "And as usual Phylos we wont ask
how you got them. Okay these will punch a hole in a Sarge at 600 metres
so no problems against Cad infantry or most of their heavy PA's for that
matter. That better Ryger?"

"It will do, I guess." He snatches the rifle from Phylos and hugs it close.

"Right!" Regaining everyone's attention Intruder continues.

[Ten days later]

Splice turns from his monitor "Intruder, we've picked up several boomers
about 10,000 clicks out. The computer hasn't got them on the WoP
database, might be hostiles. Open fire?"

Intruder looks up from his comic book "No, don't shoot. The reason you
don't have them on the WoP database is simple, they're not from the
WoP. That'll be the rest of the team. Trust them to be early. How far to
RR4?"

"About three hours."

"Cool, wake me up when we get there."

[Red Rebel 4, LZ]

Splice lands next to Ryger, behind a rock pile, just as the trail of gun fire
ripples into it blowing dust and rock fragment's into the air.

"Where the fuck is Intruder? I lost him after we bailed from the shuttle."

Ryger was shooting up two Blaze and spoke through gritted teeth "Beats
the shit out of me. Him and Phylos ditched just before impact, I've spent
most of my time ducking bullets. We're all going to die! Fubar! Fucking
Fubar!"

A body lands next to them, they react instinctively weapons ready.

"Wait! Wait! It's me Phylos!"

"Fuck man I almost killed you."

"You and the rest of the Black Church. I've lost Intruder. We need him to
get to the main entrance. What about the rest of them?"

Ryger cocked his head to one side "Did you hear that? That high pitch
whine? Sounded like a Decimator Cannon."

"Don't be stupid! That's Conflict War tech. Nobodies made them since...
"

The three of them looked to each other as they felt the molecules of their
body begin to shift. Ryger was first to react "Run, run for." The rest of his
sentence became a low gurgle as his head melted into his chest cavity.

[RR4 "Apollo Project" area]

Intruder dropped down from the ventilation shaft. The cavern he landed in
was almost a mile across, and deep. A perfect sphere, the walls of the
cave smooth as glass as if melted by some enormous heat. A spider web
of walk ways crisscrossed the cavern, disappearing into various holes
drilled into its sides. The whole place was bathed in a ghostly blue light
emanating from the sphere that hung in the centre of the excavation.

Reaching with his mind he told his friends it was safe. One by one they
dropped down from the vent. Intruder looked at the sphere. Its glow
seemed to flicker and move like luminous clouds in a glass bubble.
"Nobody here? I don't like it." Intruder readied his gutting hook.

"Where's the other guys? The Wraith, the Shaktar."

"Eh, they were running a diversion on the other side of the compound.
Mitzz are you sure this is the place?"

"Listen, I've been studying this for the last 500 years this is the only way
out."

Intruder relaxed a little "It looks very much like The White to me."

Temp stepped forward "Eh, guys Venom has just pointed out to me that
there is a real lack of guards for something that is so important and that is
bad."

Mitzz snapped an order "Tapestry, Silhouette, Mirage youre up. Get to the
sphere. Intruder, Temp and I will cover the rear. Venom, you look after
everything else."

They moved without reply. This moment had been waiting to happen for
over 900 years now was not the time to argue.

Intruder looked at Mitzz and smiled "Who died and gave you the stripes?"

Mitzz smiled down at his Kilneck brother "It's been a while." He placed his
hand on Intruders shoulder "Let's get the fuck out of here."

They made their way up to the sphere. Climbing through the maze of
ladders and walkways. The other Kilneck had already made it there. Mitzz
shouted up to them "Go through! We'll see you on the other side." And
then looking towards Temp "Where ever that may be."

The blast ripped through the ladder like a white hot razor, sending the
Kilneck tumbling, crashing through the scaffolding, to the bottom of the
cavern.

"Mitzz, my boy. What a pleasure it is to see you again."

Mitzz recognised the voice. The voice that ten months ago had offered
him and the rest of the Kilneck a job. the voice of Cadavar.
Mitzz pulled himself from the rubble, followed by Intruder and Temp. They
stood face to face with a dozen Cad Warriors, boosted to the limits of
physical science and perhaps beyond. They're bodies welded to their
armour so the two where indistinguishable. Weapons were similarly bio-
engineered to their living tissue. Their flesh bodies augmented with
Cadavars own bio-tech, sinew and bone fused together. It held none of
the aesthetic value of Karma but it was just as effective if not more so.

Cadavar continued "Don't bother to go for any of your weapons. I know

that the Gate negates most of your abilities so it puts things on a rather
more even playing field. A fair fight if you will."

Intruder steps forward "Fair? What would you know about fair, Cadavar?"

"Shut up fool. You've been stuck up Slayers ass for 900 years Intruder its
time you learned some respect. just before you die. One of my men has
been itching to kill you for a long time. You remember Laren, don't you?
And then there's you Temp. I'll give you to Stebbins. He can show you a
thousand ways to die."

The two aforementioned Cads step from behind Cadavar. Laren, once an
Ebon. Now twisted in mind and body he had become an abomination. His
lithe figure almost frail. The long white hair tainted with the stains of blood
and bio-fluids from his centuries of experiments on the Cads and himself.

Stebbins was more monster than man. His admittance to the Cads had
cost him his humanity. Nothing of the man remained except perhaps for a
part of his deranged brain that knew only rage and pain. His centuries of
service to Cadavar had cost him his body. Replaced with bio-tech and
hardware. He was a killing machine in the truest sense.

"And you Mitzz, for the impudence of refusing my offer I will enjoy ripping
you apart with my bare hands."

The Kilneck look at each other and then to the three adversaries in front of
them. Even if they could defeat them, the other Cad Warriors would make
sure they died in this cavern. But this was not the first time they had faced
death and survived. perhaps in would not be the last.

Intruder reached out with his mind, fighting through the noise of the
sphere, to call for help. His concentration was broken by the first of the
blows from Laren. Falling to the ground Intruder could feel the break in his
jaw split wider with the second punch from Laren. Focusing his pain to his
fist he struck low and fast. Laren was thrown back against the side of the
cavern a bloody hole in his chest. Intruder leaped through the air and
landed on Laren, his foot crushing through the hole his fist had made.

Temp dove for cover as Stebbins opened fire with two smg's. As the clips
emptied Stebbins dropped the guns and moved in with his blade. "Come
on little Kilneck. Don't make me hunt you like an animal. Fight like a man."

Temp came crashing through the rubble like a dervish, knocking Stebbins
off his feet. Landing on top of the Cad he rained down blow after blow with
his fists. Sparks and blood flew from both men as Angel Armour and Tap
glove struck Cad armour and blade and vice versa. Temp froze and
burned the Cads body until the flesh hissed and bubbled under the
armour.

Mitzz and Cadavar had begun as they indented to continue, two giant men
exchanging blows until one would tire. Each strike would send the other
man hurtling across the base of the cave and into ladders and scaffolding
which had begun to collapse around them. Mitzz screamed, part rage, part
terror. He reached out with his mind to summon what power he could from
any source. Two Cad Warriors closest to him dropped dead, drained of
their life force. A stream of brilliant red, almost liquid, flame shot from his
mask and blazed against the body of Cadavar.

As the Kilneck rose from the fight with their opponents they backed
towards each other. Looking at the Cad Warriors around them. They once
more prepared to fight. Then a voice, as clear as crystal, filled their minds.
a warning.

As they dove to the ground the whine of the Decimator pierced the air.
The Cad Warriors screamed in agony as they became true fusions of man
and machine, their molecules mixing with the walkways, cave walls and
each other. Through the smoke and fumes of the destructive wake left by
the Decimator stepped Venom. His mask a twisted grin of insanity. His
voice cold and quiet as the grave. "Best we leave now."

Climbing the wrecked scaffolding was a long arduous task but finally they
made it to the walkway that lead into the sphere. Looking to each other
and then around the cave they stepped inside the sphere one by one.
Intruder stood and looked one last time at the devastation around him,
then to the sphere, the 'Gate'. "Find a city, find myself a city to live in."

And as he faded into the mists of the gate they were gone... gone forever.
The journey had not been easy but at last he was here.

The small figure pressed his nose against the window and peered into the
main vault of SLA Industries best kept secret... Slayers Crypt. He moved
round to the entrance and stared at the keyboard and monitor.

His master was right, with Teeth in charge this place was forgotten, not
even the security cameras where active. He tapped at the keyboard and
the monitor flickered into life.

"Ah, this is good. Way in this is. What was word my master told me to
write? Hmmm... Ah yes! La... za... rus. Lazarus."

As the word formed whole in his mind it sent painful shivers down his
spine and made his fingers numb, but this was nothing new. His master
had done terrible things to him over the centuries and this was a mild
irritant compared to them.

The vault doors hissed and groaned as massive hydraulic pistons

laboured to move several tons of blast door. The cold rushed out from the
crypt, with it cold icy smoke followed and covered the floor with an eerie
fog. The little figure shuffled into the room, his breath almost freezing on
contact with the air.

Stopping, the fog swirling round his knees the Herald looked at the large
grey altar before him. Across it lay sheets of glistening black material and
under those sheets a body.

"You must be the one my master wants."

Reaching into his pocket the Herald produced a small leather bag and
began to pour its contents onto the icy floor. The sand disappeared into
the mists of the crypt. Almost at once he could feel the temperature rising,
the frost melting, the mist condensing into water. The sand seemed to
froth up from the floor, seeping from some unknown place, spreading
across the black and white tiles until they were totally obscured. From the
mound of sand emerged the tip of a spear, moving through the sand like
the fin of a shark. More of the spear became visible, the whole blade, the
shaft and then the hand of its owner.
The Herald was hopping from side to side, excited by the prospect of his
masters pleasure at his success. His exuberant jig was cut short as a
clawed hand snatched him off his feet.

"Hello again, worm. What are we so happy about?"

He looked into the flame red eyes of his captor and saw only hatred.

"Mistress Rebecca... I have completed the task my master has set for me.
He will be pleased."

The Herald fell to the ground with a dull thud as Rebecca dropped him.
She moved over to the altar then turned to look at the Herald again.

"And you're sure he's under here are you?"

The little man looked nervous. He hadn't checked. If he had summoned

his master without good cause his suffering would be long and painful.
Looking to the corner of the room, the spear's owner had fully emerged
from the sand. He looked back at Rebecca, her smile twisted, evil, and
erotic. She had been his masters plaything for some time now and held
as much favour as anyone could and not even the Herald could change
that. He hated her.

His master spoke.

"My little servant, it would seem you have done well. You see Rebecca it
is not only my Angels that can serve me well."

Rebecca's smile faded into a razor sharp sneer. Reaching behind her she
pulled back the black, wet sheet that had covered the altar. Hoping to
reveal nothing. She couldn't have been more wrong. There as if only
asleep lay the body of Slayer clad in his Angel Armour, his hands crossed
over his chest, holding the sword he had wielded during the Conflict Wars.

Rebecca stepped back, the Herald hid behind her long red velvet cloak.
His master stepped up to the altar.

"My dear friend, what have they done to you? Rejected and forgotten. We
must do something about that. Rebecca, give me the blood you brought
with you."

She looked puzzled.

"I brought no blood, Lord. You did not tell me..."

"Oh but you did. The cursed blood that crawls through those beautiful
veins of yours. Now, come here!"

The Herald, with all his strength, twisted and pushed Rebecca's left leg so
as to make her spin and fall, to be caught by his master.

"Don't worry my dear, I only need a drop or two... or perhaps three or four
or five or six or seven!"

The spear thrust repeatedly through her breast plate and tore into her
flesh as it twisted its way out of her back. Her body writhed, convulsed
then was still. With one easy movement she is thrown on top of Slayers
body.

"I'll miss her. Remind me to find a new toy when we return home, Herald."

The Herald, almost unable to contain his joy at his tormenters death, nods
vigorously.

"What... what do we do now master?"

"We wait little one. A soul as pure as his cannot be stolen or given to
another, but it must be guided back to its home, it must want to return.
Rebecca will provide that light, the bait for us."

Slayer could feel again. The image of the abomination from beyond this
reality, the spear, the book, the power still fresh in his mind. He could feel
the sword in his hand, as he had done when he first came here. When it
was young. The other senses return quickly. Space was folding in around
the WoP. The Kilneck had gone! His mind reached to the corners of his
realm. Disorder and chaos had once more taken hold. And the greatest
cause of that chaos was standing next to him. He moved quickly, bringing
his sword crashing down on his enemy, blade and spear tip meet and the
room shakes with the reverberation.

He looks into the white lifeless eyes of his foe, the bloody tears.

"Miss me?"
The Herald looked out from behind the alter, his master and his enemy
locked in a deadly power struggle as red and blue flashes of electricity arc
off their weapons and blow holes in the ceiling, walls and floor of the crypt.
He thought about making a run for the door, the window, anywhere that
was safer than here. Then the fighting stopped.

The Herald looked through the smoke and fire of the battle to see his
master and his enemy standing face to face, weapons by their sides. All
the energy and rage of battle spent. Slayer was first to speak.

"Why have you done this?"

"For us!"

"Us?"

Slayers rested against the altar, folding his arms across his chest. Leaning
on his sword, he listened to what the Heralds master had to say.

"We are brothers and brothers should share. You have played all your
cards and lost, it's my time now."

"But you brought me back! Why?"

"Don't you see, haven't you learned anything in the centuries we have
been here? There can be no light without darkness, no good without evil.
You need me. And as much as it pains me. I need you."

"So you're just going to hand my realm back to me on a silver platter and
start again?"

"No, nothing as simple. This place is rotten. You or I can do no more with
it. You took all it had to offer, drained the life from it. We must start afresh.
Wipe the slate clean and begin again."

Slayer slid to the ground.

"I'm tired of this fight, Bitterness. You should have left me dead."

"I'm going to make you want to live again, brother. I'm going to give you a
reason to go on."
Slayer let his sword fall from his grasp. Drawing his legs up to his chin he
buried his head in his hands.

"How?"

"The children have gone, we will follow them."

Slayers looked up at the smiling face of his age old enemy.

"Impossible!"

"Not so, my friend. Hadn't you noticed how things hold together. You died
but all that you had created still went on. This place doesn't need or want
us anymore. It has outgrown us, the child no longer needs its hand held. It
must stand alone now, as we did all that time ago. Do you agree?"

Slayer stood, picked up his sword and straightened his armour.

"For the first time you are right."

The room shook, dust fell from the ceiling. All three men look up. Slayer
could feel what was happening outside, above ground and beyond. The
World of Progress was reaching its ultimate conclusion, the final solution,
and the price of Progress... Over 900 years of order and control collapsing
in on its self.

Afterword

I am old and my memory fades. For over 1000 years I have watched this
place grow and now I watch it die.

What follows is a brief summary of the events that have brought me to this
place. Later I may detail that which I can remember or have learned.

The year, as we count it now, is 157 AE, by old standards that would be
1062 SD. The AE part was a throw away tag that stuck. It stands for After
Exodus. It's funny, Exodus. You would think it meant some vast migration
of races and yet it refers to only a handful of people. But those people,
entities or whatever they truly were held this place together in a way
nobody could understand.
The Kilneck were the first to go, even though most never knew all of them
their presence was still felt across the galaxy. They left on Fold and Ion
ship or by other means for places unknown. Wherever they went it was
out of the sensory range of the most powerful Bound Necanthrope, those
born of the White on Mort. Even the incredible power of the Free Born
Necs, those of the Mandrake bloodline, couldn't detect them. Slayers body
disappeared from his crypt and to this day has not been found. Some still
search for him on the edges of known space. But I'm getting ahead of
myself.

After the Kilneck and Slayer had gone came the Bio War. This lasted for
all of three weeks as Stormers from all over the WoP arrived on Mort by
whatever means they could find. The space born fleet of the Black
Chapter defended to the last man, but probably caused more damage
than they prevented. For every ship they crippled attempted to crash to
Morts surface and many succeeded, burning away vast portions of the
atmosphere in the fusion explosions.

Loyal SLA operatives and militia troops fought all across Mort to stop the
Stormers from destroying what they had left of their world. The Black
Chapter had seeded Bio chambers on Mort to create loyal Stormers to
fight on their side, but even those turned against their creators. The main
thrust of Stormer insurgents came from the Ion cruisers from Artery. Their
leader, it was later speculated, was Maxon Hagen or at least the genetic
double of Hagen as the original was assassinated on Artery. This has
never been proven and the body, original or clone, of Hagen was never
found. Perhaps it still rests on some street or in some ruined part of Mort
City.

As the war raged Stormers that could, made their way to Cannibal Sector
One, more specifically to Salvation tower. Necanthropes that were on Mort
at the time told of a massive sense of death and loss emanating from the
sector, but could not tell what the source was. Most believe it was Digger
and those of sufficient knowledge knew it was. The Manchine had become
a beacon to all those of soulless birth, it had become their messiah.

Black Chapter, Stigmartyr, Internal Affairs, every department fought side

by side to defend Mort, to defend SLA Industries. Unfortunately the
Stormer force was greatly underestimated both in number and in skill.
Huge numbers of divisions died for the cause. In the end they died for
nothing.
Mort was lost. The planets bio sphere was crippled beyond repair, even
with the atmosphere processors the damage would take centuries to
repair. The evacuation of Mort started a few days after the last Stormer
was seen entering the Cannibal Sector. Every ship that could escape
Morts burning atmosphere did so, rendezvousing with whatever ship was
leaving the system. Almost all of the civilian population was left to perish
on the planet surface.

A few civilians did survive, this was discovered years later when finally
communication with the Shaktarian Home worlds was re-established. The
Shaktars had been poised to strike at Mort in the event of Teeth getting
out of control, but they had withdrawn when the Stormers devastated the
planet.

The Shaktars mounted several rescue missions to Mort before the

complete breakdown of the bio sphere.

A few years after the evacuation, an old Foldship was recharging just
outside the Mort system and is rumoured to have been contacted by
something on Mort that claimed to be Digger. This was impossible as the
communication was made telepathically to the ships navigator. But if there
is one thing I have learned it is that nothing is impossible.

Rumours and hearsay have given Mort a new mystique since it's
destruction. Tales of creatures still wondering the planets ravaged surface
abound, stories of the vast wealth that awaits the brave soul that would
venture onto the planets surface and the bed time story to scare children,
the return of Slayer through the portal that once created Necanthropes.

Once more I digress. The remnants of Morts populous made its way to the
closest of the SLA held worlds. New Paris was a port of call for many of
the refuges. For a time normality returned or at least as normal as things
could ever be again. The command structure of SLA had taken a hefty
blow. With Slayer dead and central command on Mort destroyed the
various departments where left leaderless. Most decisions were made by
rather argumentative and disorganised committee. Internal power
struggles were rife, from the lowest operative to the highest corporate. To
begin with these were settled by discussion, negotiation and compromise,
on the surface things ran smoothly.

Diplomatic talks began with Thresher and Dark Night and non-aggression
treaties where quickly drawn up, signed and broken frequently. This was
aggravated by the aggressive and xenomorphic attitude of the Shaktar
race to all other races in the New WoP.

The struggle for dominance within SLA came to a head in 17 AE when

actual fighting broke out between divisions of Black Chapter and
Stigmartyr on New Paris (the new central command centre for SLA). The
civil war was quick and bloody as both sides fought for control of the
company. Thresher and Dark Night took this opportunity to take control of
contested worlds on the edges of WoP space including the old War World
Dante' which was destroyed totally when Thresher destabilised the planets
mantel using huge fusion guns on board their Ion attack cruisers, all that
remains now is a small asteroid field. In the end none of them would win.

The Shaktarian armies took the opportunity of internal conflict to attack

SLA Industries and the Soft companies using every means at their
disposal to gain control. The war lasted for three years. In the end the
Shaktarian Clans took control of SLA Industries, Thresher and Dark Night.

The exception to this and to all other events in the twenty years that
followed the collapse of Mort was Static and the Ebon race. Throughout
this time of struggle they had hidden their ships, their worlds and their race
from the eyes of SLA and have continued to do so since then. Now they
too are beginning to pass into the stuff of legend. Although there are still a
few Ebons around their numbers dwindle each year. They have become
mystics and travellers that wonder the galaxy hunting down the Mandrake
Bloodline and eradicating it where they can.

For as the Shaktars brought order to the WoP, which was broken into clan
protectorates and inducted into the Shaktar religion, the Foldship Yung
returned with generations of vengeance on the mind of its crew. The Yung
had been gone for almost 1000 years and had brought with it the progeny
of that 1000 year exile. They brought hundreds of Foldcraft of all sizes and
classes from super dreadnought to fast attack frigates and the most
terrifying force of all, the Free Born.

In all my years I have never seen a sight as horrific as a Free Born

Necanthrope. These creatures manifested as from hell itself where given
life in the depths of space. With no White and no control of the Ebon
council the Ebons on board the Yung evolved at an accelerated rate as
did their powers.

These beings, after centuries of control by Intruder and the council, could
at last harness the true power of the Ebb and warp it into their bodies.
They harnessed their power. the power to burn worlds. The Shaktars, the
humans even the Wraiths fought bravely, but in vain. Slayer would have
been proud. The Ebons, to the surprise and relief of the other races, came
out of hiding to face what they considered an age old enemy. As did the
Bound Necanthropes.

Teeth and his forces, believed to be destroyed on Mort, were among the
first to attack Mandrake. The battles fought by Teeth's forces were among
the fiercest in recorded history and surprisingly one sided. The Yung and
its fleet tore the Bound Necanthrope apart in a matter of hours. I
witnessed the destruction of the fleet, all the pain of the Foldships as the
burned and died. A few Bound Necanthrope ships escaped and hide in the
outer-reaches of the WoP.

Then the invading fleet made their way through the rest of the systems
that constituted the New WoP. Mandrakes decimation of the WoP was
thankfully quick and stopped when they reached Mort and found it already
destroyed.

As if bereft of purpose the Mandrake fleet broke up and dispersed

throughout the galaxy. Making their homes on whatever world they could
control. The remnants of the other races also dispersed.

SLA Industries was no more. The mighty empire that had lasted for
centuries took all of 25 years to be left in ruins. There are those that still
live in the old WoP clinging onto whatever they can. Most species that
populated the WoP can be found around the galaxy, the occasional colony
here, a few scattered systems there life goes on. Even some of the old
divisions of SLA survive. These are now roving bands, gangs and small
armies that hold onto the ideas of SLA in a twisted form of ritualistic
worship of all that has gone before.

Which brings me to now. With most of the original habited worlds of the
WoP destroyed by war the only other place left to go was the Black
Stump. This area of space was a forbidden zone in the time of Slayer but
now was a chance to start again for those that had survived the holocaust.
There was found a myriad of new races and life forms some hostile but
most congenial by WoP Standards. Even the feared White earth was still.
Only the remnants of a pre-industrial civilisation remained crying for their
long lost god.
The Shaktars have fared well, with the founding and control of several
resource rich worlds. They now are very wealthy as they control the
majority of the shipping lanes in the Stump. The new empire has grown
and keeps in constant contact with the original home worlds in the old
WoP. They have also become the major information brokers and govern
over trade and territorial disputes with the various races of the Stump.

The Wraiths have not been as fortunate, the home world Polo was
stripped bare by the Mandrake forces and the majority of the Wraith clans
were completely obliterated. The remnants of the race now wonder the
galaxy as hired assassins and scouts. Those that chose to settle live on
the polar caps of various worlds throughout the Stump.

The Brain Wasters are all but a memory, hunted to extinction by the forces
of Mandrake and some of the few remaining Bound Necanthropes.

As for the Necanthropes little is seen or heard of them. Teeth is known to

be dead as are his most trusted Unions, all lost at the battle with
Mandrake. Those that survived the massacre hide in the darker areas of
the galaxy or have found sanctuary among the Ebon people.

The Frother clans were decimated during the Bio War and never
recovered their strength. They are now all gone save a few who still hold
onto the traditions of their great, great grandparents. Without the constant
abuse of their bodies by SLA drugs the genetic traits that identified the
Frothers will soon be diluted and they may well become part of the human
race again.

The humans, as is their way, adapted and now populate at least 50 worlds
I know of in the Stump. With various factions of the Humans still fighting
for supremacy it is possible that one day they may again rise up and take
control of a New World of Progress. But without the leadership of one
such as Slayer this is a long way off and I doubt I will see that day.

The Ebon race are still the greatest mystery to many. They all but
vanished during the destruction of SLA Industries and with the exception
of a brief return to try and stop Mandrake they have remained the
"invisible" race. Stories abound as to the why's and wherefores for their
self imposed excommunication from the other races but few will ever know
their true purpose. Popular belief holds that they are manipulating races
and armies of the Stump from their hidden places, but few if any can say
to what end.
Through all this destruction, struggle and rebirth a darker cloud hangs on
the horizon. From deep within the Black Stump is a race of evil creatures
that are hell bent of killing all other living things that do not fit their genetic
ideal or at least 'changing' them to fit their needs. This race could still rise
up and take away all that has been done to rebuild. If they do, if that is
their will we are all doomed.

I have seen their plague bombs destroy planets in hours, their ships 'eat',
for want of a better description, Foldships and their armies fuse, bond and
consume races in gruesome planetary assaults, using the blood and bone
of their enemies as weapons.

I grow tired and the suns are setting. time to rest.

Information laid down by Virgil, Bound Necanthrope Scribe Royal Court

Records (Personal) Halo

The FallWorld is 2000 Morton Smith