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Deep Run
Well, having played the original Homeworld for a couple years and recently getting HW2 and PDS, I find it is time for me to un-knot the old writing muscles and add something to the community. So with no further useless rambling, I give you "Deep Run" part 1.

(I apologize for any inaccuracies with the established fiction, I'm still trying to figure it out, but I will make an effort for further parts to be more canon. Any suggestions would be appreciated.)

This is our third week on deep recon, and the crew is already starting to feel the strain. Twenty-two days on a ship in Vaygr territory with no contact to the outside world can mess with people. They all know that if anything goes wrong with the ships stealth systems, it would take less than a minute for any Vaygr scout force to blow us out of the sky. But they also know this mission is important, so they do their best to show no signs of the strain. You can see it in their eyes though, they don?t sleep well, and every time we jump theirs always the worry that the Vaygr will already be there. No matter how stealthy we are, even we can?t hide a quantum waveform distortion during exit from hyperspace.

I?m feeling it too, the constant tension. I can?t say I ever expected to be commanding a ship like this, or to be on a mission such as this one. I graduated from the HGN battle school dead smack in the middle of my class. My teachers always said that I made up for my lack of tactical creativity with an ability to follow orders, but they knew that I was bound for mediocrity. If I ever got my own ship it was unlikely that I?d command anything bigger than a frigate, important, but not overly so. But during my first battle, my trail-by-fire, my superiors discovered another talent I had. In my efforts to escape that lost battle, I had been able to sneak my leaking Bloodhound right under the nose of a Vaygr frigate line without notice, by hiding in dust pockets and behind debris. It was because of that that they decided to give me this prowler and this mission: push into the Vaygr reaches and set up a web of new LRFTLT (Long-Range Faster-Than-Light Transmission) sensor buoys to monitor Vaygr fleet movements. Since I was useless in combat, I?d be a delivery boy; a glorified mailman.

The ship they gave me, the HGN Akron, is the top-of-the-line prowler, practically invisible, except when entering and exiting hyperspace. She is built off of an Arbitor frame, but with substantially reduced offensive capabilities. All weapons except key point-defense clusters were removed, the skin was completely replaced with new active camouflage skin and an extensive EW suite was installed. In order to carry the probes, a small hanger and productions facility were added, along with an exodus-era resourcing beam and production facility to help construct new probes in the field. She was an oddity of the galaxy; a warship built to avoid combat. But she would serve her purpose, they said, and so would I.

So that is how I, Commander Christopher L. Owens ended up in command of the HGN Akron, an unarmed stealth boat, on a three-month deep run into Vaygr territory. Man, this is gonna suck?
Edited by aspasticninja on 03-06-2008 04:19
Gotta say.Clap That is good. I really love how real the guy feels with all the complaining and the last line "Man,this is gonna suck...." thats just awsome. Its kinda like i could wake up the next morning and get put on the sneaky, sarcastic captains ship. Real cool.Grin:

May the PDS be with you.
Thanks. It's been a while since I wrote anything new (I've been working on personal projects for a year or so) and its kinda refreshing. Theres just a couple things about the PDS universe I'm not sure of. For one thing, do they have faster-than-light communication? And what is generally accepted as the time period during PDS (I assume they use standard months and days, but what years are we talking about?)

If anyone could tell me it would really help in making the story better. Thanks again.
Ford, I don't mean to alarm you, but there are an infinite number of monkey's outside and they want us to go over their screenplay for Hamlet.
Excellent. I'm well sick and tired of indestructible starships that magically wipe out everything with superficial casualties.

You've figured out yourself and human characteristics well, max respect. And don't worry about the dos and donts of the PDS universe, it works as you want it to. And when the fiction is so common-sensically written as to inspire new ideas into the overworked mind of its creator, you know I just have to base something of the new works in progress around yourself.

Namely, there's a modified Arbiter in the works, and an Akron can easily be produced as a very practical deep space recon unit...
Well, THAT would be sick. I'm starting college next year and going for a degree in Video Game Design, so I'd love to help out with future versions of PDS once I have a better idea of what I'm doing (I've just started doing modeling with Blender, but the best thing I've done is a stick figure).

Anyway, in more immediate news, I'll try to get another chapter up in the next few days. I want the next one to be longer, but I have to do graduation stuff until Saturday, so I don't know how much time I'll have for writing.

Edited by aspasticninja on 04-06-2008 19:17
Ford, I don't mean to alarm you, but there are an infinite number of monkey's outside and they want us to go over their screenplay for Hamlet.
If you have time to write in my ghost town you're freer than i am!
YAY! I graduated High School! And finished the next chapter!!!

The tension mounts as I enter the bridge. A good commander would put his crew at ease when he enters the room, but my crew doesn?t trust me that much. I don?t really blame them, but that doesn?t make their distrust sting any less. Part of me says fuck ?em, but I ignore my cynical side and raise my voice: ?Status report.?

My Second, a younger women named Jessica Stevens, salutes, ?We just dropped probe 112, Sir. EW reports no Vaygr activity in sensor range.? She was a good officer, neat, prompt, respectful?attractive. No, dammit Chris, you can?t think like that, you?ll get your ass kicked out for that. I shake my head to clear my mind, than look back at her.

?Lieutenant, you are relieved.?

?Aye sir, you have the bridge.?

I salute, and then turn to my helm officer. Benjamin is his name, Benjamin Smith. Another good officer, and intuitive. I wonder why they gave me such good subordinates; maybe to make up for myself. ?Status report? When can we make our next jump??

?Well Sir, we?ve got a problem with long-range communications. Fleet Command has yet to give us the go-ahead. So we?re stuck here for now.?

?When did we last transmit??

?About five minutes ago, Sir.?

?Move us five hundred kilometers at thirty-five by forty-five degrees, fast as we can go without becoming visible. We don?t want a Vaygr scout locking on to our position.?

?Aye Sir, moving three-five by four-five, one-half power. ETA to five-zero-zero is twelve minutes.?

There was always a chance that a Vaygr scouting squadron could detect the high levels of energy needed for faster-than-light communication. And if they could, they would follow it to the Akron. As well shielded as the probe is, my ship is bigger and untested in real conditions.

Stevens looks up from her station to my right, ?Sir, Chief Cory reports that the production facilities are low on resources.?

?Tell him we?ll go farming in one hour, as soon as we?re sure we weren?t found.?

?Aye, Sir.?

?Smith, take us into position and hold for one hour. Stevens, you have the bridge.?



I walk off the bridge and to the lift. From there I head to my cabin, one deck below EW Control. Ignoring the Navy rules against drinking while on alert (we were always on alert), I pour a scotch and sink into a chair. As I drink, my mind wanders back to my childhood. Before the invasion I never dreamed of joining the Navy. As kids we would play war, but actually serving was never my plan during school. In fact, I had no plan. Lost in memories, I drift into a partial slumber, before my intercom beeps to jolt me from my revelry. Damn Navy, can?t even relax.

?Go ahead,? I yell to the computer. Stevens? face appears on the tiny screen.

?Sir, EW just picked up a bogey 74 kilometers out. Nothing solid yet at that range but they?re estimating a pair of frigates.?

?Go to full alert and extend the wires, I?m on my way.?


The wires are a pair of kilometer-long cables that extended out of the two main antenna arrays. When electrically charged, they emit large electro-magnetic fields that inhibit sensors. At long range, they are one of our most effective stealth systems.

?SitRep,? I duck onto the bridge as the blast door closes.

?Multiple incoming bogies? Stevens reports, ?More ships exited hyperspace, EW is now tracking a light recon group, make it one escort carrier with screening units. Fighter wings are sweeping the area.?

?Great,? I mean to mutter it, but it comes out louder, ?Smith, new course. Get us far enough away to jump.?


?I want EW working at full capacity; if those Vaygr catch a glimpse of use we?re screwed.?

?Aye, Sir.?

Dammit to hell, this isn?t supposed to happen. This was supposed to be a cake walk; in, out, medals for everyone. Dammit.

?Sir, we?ve got a fighter wing closing on us. Fifteen kilometers out,? Smith yells over the chatter.

?Hold steady.?

?I think they found us, they?re overtaking.?

Screw it. ?Initiate hyperspace jump, get us the hell out of here.?

?Sir, they?ll know we were here.?

?Maybe, but we won?t be dead. Do it.?

?Aye, charging hyperspace core; random course plotted. Initiating jump.?

The ship rumbles as energy surges into the core. A wall of blue appears off the bow.

?Fighters are accelerating to attack velocity.?

But we?re already gone.
Edited by aspasticninja on 18-06-2008 01:05
Ford, I don't mean to alarm you, but there are an infinite number of monkey's outside and they want us to go over their screenplay for Hamlet.
quick FYI:

hiigaran surnames traditionally are clan names, like "S'jet" or "LiirHra" or "Somtaaw", not traditional names like "smith". but other than that, AWESOME JOBGrin:
YAY!!!! 1000th MEMBER!!!
Lol, Smith would be definitely possible given Hiigaran influx of foreign cultures during the new Republic's expansion. Let it be and may the show continue Smile

Smith definitely sounds more "homely" to us Earth readers than LiirHra. Even pronounces nicely. You can imagine in the Hiigaran language, Smith could be something like... I dont know, you make up one in Hiigaran Smile
Wow that was awsome. While reading about the vagyr fighters i was holding my breath :rofl:

May the PDS be with you.
One thing I'm gonna harass you about continuously: I'm such a grammar and spelling Nazi; I noticed like the...2 mistakes you've made. lol.

HOWEVER; Cool. I like. Almost makes me want to write something; I have the time...

Anyways, good job, keep it up, ect
"With all this power at its disposal,there is no question that the Beast Mothership is currently the most dangerous vessel in the Galaxy.It is not just a starship. It is a plague come for us all."-Somtaaw Fleet Intelligence.
"We are the Borg
Oh right, the names... oops. I'll make sure the rest are more Hiigaran..ish. As for spelling/grammar mistakes, I do the best I can (aka Spell Check). Glad everyone seems to be enjoying it though...
Edited by aspasticninja on 11-06-2008 23:26
Ford, I don't mean to alarm you, but there are an infinite number of monkey's outside and they want us to go over their screenplay for Hamlet.
Yes we are, and wanting more. Can you blame us?
No, I suppose not. The next one will be up much sooner, as I now have shit-tons of free time.
Ford, I don't mean to alarm you, but there are an infinite number of monkey's outside and they want us to go over their screenplay for Hamlet.
?Exiting Hyperspace in three?two?one, quantum waveform has dissipated. Calculating current position.? Smith yells over the cacophony of alarms.

?What the hell happened?? I feel dizzy for some reason, and stumble as I try to walk to the helm. Stevens grips a handrail and leans on it, apparently having the same trouble as I.

?We didn?t retract the wires,? Stevens yells.

?They were charged when we jumped,? confirms Smith, ?I think they may have destabilized the jump. The computer is still calculating our position.?

?Sir,? yells my EW officer, Lieutenant Peter Gaalsien.

?What!? yelling over the alarms is starting to get annoying, ?Someone kill those damn alarms!? As I finish, Stevens types a string into her computer and the alarms finally stopped.

?Sir, we?ve lost main power,? Gaalsien, ?The fail safes uhh? failed. Between the wires and the jump we overloaded the reactor, its leaking plasma. We should be switching to emergency power soon.?

As he speaks, the lights dim to their minimum settings, and an automated voice spoke through the bridge PA, ?Ship now on emergency power.?

?Smith, where are we??

?We?re about twenty light-years from Hiigaran space; should be close enough for a recovery team.?

?Alright, send out our distress beacon; tell them we need a pickup.?


It takes the recovery team four hours to assemble and transit two light repair frigates to our position. They latch on to either side of the hull and repair team?s board through the airlocks. As I watch my head technician, Chief Petty Officer Cory Naabal, move down the corridor with one of the repair teams, I?m surprised to see a man in an admirals uniform emerge from the airlock. As he sees me, he salutes, and I scramble to shake off the shock while I return it.

?Vice Admiral Manaan requesting permission to come aboard.?

?Permission granted, Sir,? I stammer a reply, ?What brings you here??

?New orders,? he says, then a pause, ?this is classified, so why don?t we move to your briefing room.?

?Of course, right this way.?

We ride the lift up to the top deck and then follow the central corridor aft to the briefing room. I usher the admiral in and seal the hatch. He settles in a chair, then leans forwards and rests his elbows on the table.

?It would seem, Commander, that the Vaygr now have some idea of your activities. Surely they noticed your escape, and they may have found the probe, so the order has come down to change your drop points.? He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a palm comp, ?This encrypter has the coordinates of all your new drop points. Keep it to yourself until we leave, then give this to your helm officer.? Manaan slides the comp across the table, and I pick it up.

?Yes, Sir.?

?Good,? the admiral stands, and I show him out. ?The repair crews should be done soon. We?ll try to get out of here before the Vaygr finds us. Good luck Commander, I?ll show myself out.?

I follow the admiral to the lift, then salute as the doors close. As soon as the lift is gone, Stevens walks out of the bridge.

?Sir, was that an admiral??


She pauses, thoughtful, then ?Why the hell was an admiral on board a repair boat??

?Hell if I know,? though something does seem odd about it.

It takes another two hours for the repairs to be completed. As soon as they?re done the ships depart and enter hyperspace. I order Smith to make a jump deeper into Vaygr territory, but with no real target in mind. Then I give him the new coordinates.

We make the first few jumps successfully, and within two weeks we drop ten more probes. We?re taking time to harvest more materials after dropping Probe 122 when Smith and Gaalsien approach me off the bridge.

?Sir,? begins Smith, ?I think we have a problem.?

?What is it??
?Well, it?s the new coordinates that you gave us,? Smith continues, ?It occurred to me that they were spaced pretty far apart, so I talked to Gaalsien, and we ran some simulations.? He gestures back to the bridge, and I follow them to the main holo tank.

Gaalsien types a string into the keyboard, and a galaxy map appears, which then zooms in to the pocket of Vaygr space we have been working in.

?These,? Gaalsien says as a series of green spheres appear in the tank, ?Are our old coordinates, with the range of the sensors displayed. You see how they overlap? That means that nothing can get through without us seeing it.? Most of the green spheres disappear, to be replaced by red ones. ?The remaining green spheres are the probes we already placed. The red ones are the new coordinates. The red spheres don?t overlap; they leave a gap right through to Hiigaran space.?

?What are you saying??

?Sir, whoever gave us these coordinates must have known this, which means that they are INTENTIALLY leaving a gap large enough for a fleet to sneak through.?

?That means we?ve got a traitor,? Stevens joins the conversation.

?Exactly,? replies Smith, ?Traitor or traitors. And they must be high up to have the admiral?s ear.?

?Or,? inserts Gaalsien, ?It could be the admiral.?

?Watch your tongue,? I say quietly, ?The admiral is a Hiigaran born; his Kiith came to Hiigara on the Mothership, same as yours.?

?I know sir,? stammers Gaalsien, ?But hear me out. Kiith Manaan were historically wanderers and adventurers on Kharak. After the Exiles reclaimed Hiigara, many former-Taiidani citizens wanted to live on Hiigara. This was before the expansion that brought worlds like yours into the Hiigaran Republic, and no one could be a Hiigaran citizen without being in a clan, and Kiith Manaan was very accepting of new families. Now, what if the admiral?s family had sought refuge with, or married into, the kiith, but remained secretly loyal to the Taiidani Empire? With the remnants of the Empire working with the Vaygr, this would be a perfect time for him to do some damage.?

I consider his words, then turn to Smith. ?I can?t say I believe Gaalsien?s theory about the admiral, but I can?t deny that there does seem to be something amiss here. I want you two to work on new coordinates: make sure they?re different from both sets we have, but still have sufficient coverage.?


?Aye, sir.?

I glance at Stevens, ?We may have a mess on our hands.? She nods. Shit, this is not what I signed up for.

?Con, EW, new contact bearing two-forty by fourteen. Multiple new contacts; looks like a carrier and escorts.?

?Sir,? Smith yells, ?recommend we get out of here.?

?Agreed,? I yell back, ?Random vector, activate hyperspace module.?

?Aye, Sir. Preparing to jump.?

Dammit to hell, I?m in over my head.
Edited by aspasticninja on 18-06-2008 01:06
Ford, I don't mean to alarm you, but there are an infinite number of monkey's outside and they want us to go over their screenplay for Hamlet.
lol; Betrayed.
"With all this power at its disposal,there is no question that the Beast Mothership is currently the most dangerous vessel in the Galaxy.It is not just a starship. It is a plague come for us all."-Somtaaw Fleet Intelligence.
"We are the Borg
Well, now that I finished that, I think I'll actually play some PDS now (or Ninja Gaiden II, haven't decided yet).
Ford, I don't mean to alarm you, but there are an infinite number of monkey's outside and they want us to go over their screenplay for Hamlet.
Damn writers block. I seem to have hit a brick wall for the moment. I originally planned out what every chapter would be, but then I thought of the betrayal thing while writing chapter 3, and my plan went out the window. So now I have to figure out where the hell I'm going with this. Shouldn't take too long, maybe a couple days.
Ford, I don't mean to alarm you, but there are an infinite number of monkey's outside and they want us to go over their screenplay for Hamlet.
So far it is amazing Grin:. "The fail safes....uhh...failed."

Best line ever :rofl:
Plz keep it up when you can. Hopefully the writers block passes.

May the PDS be with you.
Just got back from a day of Bike Week down in Weirs Beach (NH), and now have ideas for next chapter. I'll start writing tonight, have it up tomorrow night.
Ford, I don't mean to alarm you, but there are an infinite number of monkey's outside and they want us to go over their screenplay for Hamlet.
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