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Old 01-03-2003, 05:04 AM   #3
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Join Date: Nov 2002
Location: Denmark
Posts: 1,068
...Soon they exposed the corruption of the local government to the putrid air of the damned world, and the last of the cowardly officials fled rather than face the righteous judgement of the Legion. They were destroyed by their holy pursuers, and the world was cleansed with Purifier-class warheads...

Exempt from the teachings of the Legion

...Despite the valiant last stand of the CGC forces the noble administrators of the Republic were forced off the planet and shot in the back by rebellious craft, granting the traitors access to the CGC’s planetary nuclear stockpile...

Exempt from a CGC propaganda broadcast

Sleep. Deep, dreamless sleep, blacker than the void between the stars. Then a soft voice, intruding upon her consciousness. “Wake up,” the voice said. “Wake up Atti,” it repeated itself with irritating insistence. Slowly, like a Battleship with its engines shut down, Attica Calina drifted from her sleep. As she opened her eyes she looked into the face of her roommate, Ina.
Still tired beyond measure, Calina found that she was lying in her own bed. She rose slowly. She was tall, had jet-black hair, cut short so as to prevent it from being in the way in a fight, pale skin and grey eyes with a hint of green. She would have been pretty, even beautiful, had she not worn the cold expressionless mask of a veteran soldier who had seen far more than her share of misery and destruction.
Six and a half years ago, on her twentieth birthday, she had completed her training, and been given the rank of Templar, her dearest ambition since joining the 3rd Crusade, where she had first heard of this secretive organisation.
She and two others had survived the tests, and she still kept the first firearm that she had been issued. But that was a trophy. It had not been used since its firing mechanism was irreparably damaged, five years before.
Ina was four years younger than Attica. Unlike her roommate, she had tan skin, almost brown. Her hair was golden, and her eyes brown. She had only been with the Templar for one year, and was far more emotional and forthcoming than any of the more experienced soldiers. Calina knew that it was only a matter of time, though, before Ina too would have the face of a cold, dedicated killer.
“I feel like I’ve been in cold sleep,” Calina said, fatigue clearly apparent in her voice.
“You have no idea how close you were to death,” Ina’s voice betrayed a little concern. “It’s a good thing that you are strong, or that Jump would have killed you. By the way, how did your cheek get that way?”
“You should not express your emotions so openly,” Calina reprimanded. “An enemy could take advantage of it.” Ina had come to regard the older, veteran Templar as a mentor of sort. Calina was sure that that had been exactly the reason for putting the two together for the past half-year.
She raised her hand to the side of her head, and winced slightly at the pain that greeted her upon touching the scorched flesh. ‘First degree burn,’ she thought. ‘Not too bad.’
“As for my cheek,” she told the younger Templar, “I ended up in the wrong end of a flamer.”
“Not the best place to be,” Ina noted.
“Tell me about it. What time is it, by the way?”
“Standard time is 2100 hours. They have altered the cycle delay by plus one hour to six hours, giving a craft-time of...”
“1500 hours!” interrupted Calina. “Then debriefing was scheduled two and a half hours ago. Why didn’t anyone wake me?”
“Scheduled, yes,” Ina said, “but someone was nice enough to tell the Paladin of your Jump, and he felt that taking out that sniper justified the risk of expending energy to Jump a third time. He pushed the debrief three hours, because you’d need all the rest that you could get.”
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