Welcome to the SEIII universe as seen through the eyes of a computer empire.  It is a place of the unexpected - a realm in which the leaders are simple, the strategies are twisted, and the intelligent are scorned.  This first episode introduces the empire known to it’s people as THE PERPETUALLY ESTABLISHED STATE OF INSTITUTION OF PERPETUAL HARMONY AND BLISS IN THE SHADOW OF THE GREAT ONE.  Or more commonly, “The Empire”.  Their origins and nature are at present unknown, although the natives of The Empire bear a striking resemblance (at least outwardly) to Terran humans!  Who knows what mysteries may await?  (He, he - not me cuz I haven’t written them yet!)  Included in this narrative is the tale of the empire’s first attempt at expansion beyond it’s home systems.  Enjoy!

QwAt’s System
 

Mission Log Accessed
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 All hail The Empire!  All hail Chancellor Cylikon!  May the burnished one forever sit upon the throne!  HEY, HO,HUP!  [Salutes]

Today we stand on the verge of a great turning point for The Empire.  It is a day that will soon be forgotten - overwhelmed by the glorious deeds of tomorrow.  For here we are, after years of travel, on the borders of the Unknown Systems.  Even now, as I gaze upon the dazzling azure of the uncharted warp point seeming so close in the viewscreen ahead, I cannot help but marvel at my good fortune.  That I, lowly Commander QwAt, should have the honor of leading the first expedition beyond the Home Systems!  ME!!!....The child of a poor kack farmer!  I would have thought it a good fortune to receive an assignment guarding peasants on Nimbark III, but to be given command of the Hound - a brand new Nova class escort complete with full battle armor!  To be sent on a mission of historic importance - to be made famous across the entire Empire!
 And tomorrow, in but a few short hours, I shall have my chance to prove myself!  Oh, I must prepare!  Let’s see, I’ll need my best uniform - the one with extra sparkles -  for the holo-vid announcement.  And I can’t forget a couple of jars of bubble water for the party in the officer’s lounge.  Hmmm....what else?
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[Chime sounds in background]

Oh drat, it’s that pesky Lt. PtAn again.  Of all the junior officers in Space Patrol, he would be the one assigned as my executive officer.  I simply can’t understand how anyone as dim witted as he could possibly have made it through officer’s training!  And he’s so depressing!  Indeed, his lack of enthusiasm is nearly unpatriotic  I must remember to file a report on him upon returning to base.  After the celebrations of course!
Sigh, here he comes.
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End of Entry
 
 
 
 
 
 

Mission Log Accessed
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Entry 32-46-2B12:  1B
   Mission Record 36 Epsilon
   Stardate:  2405.110.04.6
   Executive Officer’s Log
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 Here we go again.  It seems as if Captain QwAt is in another one of her moods.  The last time that happened she ordered us off on a wild gort chase, blowing the pulse regulator on one of the engines and nearly taking the whole ion drive with it.  As it is, we are falling far behind schedule.  If we cannot complete our mission soon, we’ll run out of supplies before we can make it home.  The sight of that warp point could not be more welcome.  Maybe now we can just finish up our mission and go home.
 On the other hand, the warp point may not be quite as good an omen as it may appear.  Ever since we came in visual range the Captain has had “that look” in her eyes - that super-patriotic, self-absorbed, “let’s-fly-the-ship-into-an-asteroid” look.  And now things seem even worse.  For the past two hours she has been pacing back and forth in front of the view port on the observation deck, grinning an odd little smile to herself.  I have a feeling that we may have some “adventures” yet to come.  PtAn out.
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End of Entry
 
 
 
 
 
 

Mission Log Accessed
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Entry 32-46-2B12:  1A-1
   Mission Record 36 Epsilon
   Stardate:  2405.110.11.7
   Captain’s Log
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 All hail The Empire!  All hail Chancellor Cylikon!  May the burnished one forever sit upon the throne!  HEY, HO,HUP!  [Salutes]

We have done it!  At precisely 1.3 time units this morning our ship completed its journey through the warp point!  And what a discovery!  As the last blue haze from the warp point drifted across the forward view screen, what should meet my eyes but the mottled sphere of a large blue planet!  It could not have been more than a day’s travel away!  A glance at the sensor report and my heart could not have raced faster!  In addition to the planet in view, the sensors reported FIVE other habitable worlds!  OH, there will be parades to celebrate my return!!!  I’ll make captain for sure!  Or even admiral! Oh!  Oh!  OH!
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End of Entry
 
 
 
 
 

Mission Log Accessed
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Entry 32-46-2B12:  1B-1
   Mission Record 36 Epsilon
   Stardate:  2405.110.18.5
   Executive Officer’s Log
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 As I suspected, it looks like we may be in for more than we bargained for.  Upon seeing the rich new system, the Captain was overjoyed - as we all were.  The Captain, however, did not seem to come down from her lofty peak.  Hardly were the initial sensor reports in, before she went marching off to her stateroom in that ridiculous dress uniform she wears to record a message for home.  Of course, we are so far from base that any message would take several weeks to arrive, but when I made her aware of the fact she simply gave me a haughty look and continued as she was.  Ah well, at least that means she won’t be on the bridge messing things up for a little while.

On the other hand, that also means that she (as well as most of the other officers) will have an opportunity to get into the bubble water.  The only thing worse than a fool is an intoxicated fool, and I fear that before long half the bridge crew will be a little loose in the knees.

 In most circumstances, that would be little more than an annoyance.  With modern automation there is very little for a bridge crew to worry about, once the ship is happily cruising along.  In fact, the bridge crew can usually set everything on automatic and play LAZ-tag on the command deck without any ill effects.  Now, however, the situation is a bit more sticky.  Shortly after the Captain left, a secondary sensor scan detected two small objects heading directly toward us.  Their precise movements and energy levels seem WAY too high to for any natural phenomena like, say, comets.  There is only one logical explanation - they must be ships.

Even now, sensors are reporting a high-speed, regular energy pulse coming from the ships.  It seems to be some sort of code.  Whether it is a signal of friendship or a battle cry is of little matter now.  It doesn’t even matter much if it is a code.  At the rate they are closing on us, it will only be a matter of minutes before we are too close for comfort.

It is time to get the crew back on the bridge.  It looks like we will be need their assistance - yes, even the Captain’s.  I have a very bad feeling about this.  PtAn out.
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End of Entry
 
 
 

Flight Recorder Accessed
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Starting Position:  2405.110.19.0
Recording Focus:  Bridge
Initializing Playback
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 “Statush Repert Lootenant!”
 
“Unidentified vessels closing rapidly, Captain!  They are signaling us.  Advise slowing to ¼ throttle and replying in kind.  Better safe than sorry, sir.”

“Advishe!  Advishe!  I am Captain here! ...... Helm, flank shpeed!  Shound battle
stationsh!”
 
  “Captain!  I don’t think our engines can take that speed!  The pulse regulator on
 engine four is still not functioning properly.  At that speed the whole thing could blow!”

  “Enshineering!  Whatta yous shay to that? Can shhe take it?”
 
  “Engineeeering here [hic] Captain [hic]!  Eveything luks juuuuust fine!”
 
  “Shee, lootenant?  I know what I’s doing!  And if I hears one more word from
 ya, I’ll have ya tosshed inna brig!  Full shpeed ahead!”

[The sound of an explosion and the screech of tortured metal.  Somewhere in the background an instrument panel shorts out.]

  “Captain!  That blast came from those ships!  I...I..can’t believe it!  Our armor is gone!  One blast atomized all three levels!  Sir, one more hit like that and our hull will burst!”

  “Shecurity!  Shecurity!  Remooove the Loootenant!”

[The sound of scuffling feet]

  “CAPTAIN, NOOO!  YOU CAN’T DO THIS!  TURN BACK OR WE’LL ALL BE KILLED!”

[A dull thud and the sound of a body being dragged across the floor]

  “Thish ish MY syshtem!  Mine!  I’m not gonna let it go wit houtta fight!  Helm, bring us about!  Prepare to fire!”

[The dull roar of the ships three meson blasters rumbles through the deck followed closely by another, less comforting rumble coming from the aft!]

“Captain!  [hic] Engineering here!  Somethin went boom! [hic] ‘N thersh this
 biiiig hole right butween engins tree ‘n five!”

  “Ignore it!  Shhooot!  Shooot!”

[The meson blasters rumble again and are once again followed by an ominous roar, this one even louder than the first making the very bulkeads vibrate.  All around the bridge, the sound of exploding equipment and screams of pain can be heard.]

  “Shir, meshon blasters aren’t reshponding!”

  “Uh-Oh.  Retreat!  Retreat!”

[Thunderous explosion followed by the hiss of escaping atmosphere]
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End of Recording
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End of File
 
 
 

Stardate:  2406.310.10.2
Border Patrol Station Watchman 0001

With a sigh, Station Master HArdrA turned away from the desktop display and reached down to stroke the purring Flessat - a favorite pet amongst the Empire elite - that was lying in a furry little ball in his lap.  A large man with a strong but graceful build and a grizzled military crew cut, he would have seemed imposing were it not for the pink sequined uniform jumpsuit and tall, floppy, rubber boots that he wore with such a distinguished air.  Judging from the number and gaudiness of the decorations on these, however, it was clear that his uniform, despite it’s absurd appearance, was one that demanded respect.
At his side, in a simple gray tunic sat a thin bespectacled man - obviously an assistant.  By the nervous, fidgeting he was making it was quite evident that he was in some distress.  His thin hands were clasping and unclasping, and his quick, intelligent eyes looked worried.
“Very well BrAnt”, bellowed the pink clad station master, “and what was the name of this ship again?”
“It was the Hound, sir.  I believe it had been sent on an exploration mission through to the Unknown Systems over two years ago.”
“And it only just returned to base NOW!  I hear it didn’t even report in for months!  I want to speak with the captain immediately!  I’ll have his boots for this!”
Byrant let out a quiet cough, his face flushing with hidden emotion, but his voice as he spoke was as level as ever.
“If you please sir, it could be because their communication’s equipment was inoperative.  When the Hound staggered into port the this morning it seemed to be missing large sections of it’s hull.  It’s hard to imagine that they had many electronics left intact.  As a matter of fact, when speaking to one of the survivors, I was told that they were forced to feed the bodies of the dead into the recycling plant, just to get enough food to stay alive.  I doubt that the comm system was very high on their list of priorities.”
“Furthermore, if I may be so bold sir, it would seem that they had in fact pulled off a rather heroic feat.  Considering the damage they sustained it is a miracle that they were able to make it back at all.  On inspection of the hulk, I think you would find that the crew was forced to rely on some rather elaborate (and risky) repairs to keep it running.  The man who lead them back, a...let me see...Lt. PtAn, seems to be in line for a commendation.”
“A lieutenant!”, puffed the station master.  “Who put a lieutenant in charge of an entire escort?”
“No one sir”, replied BrAnt.  “The ship was originally captained by one Commander QwAt.  Lieutenant PtAn was forced to take command after the Commander was killed - the entire bridge was vaporized sir.  It would seem that Commander QwAt decision to attack was rather foolhardy.”
“Nonsense, BrAnt!”, Station Master HArdrA bellowed, slamming a heavy fist down upon the desk.  “What QwAt did was nothing short of spectacular!  He...”
“She, sir.”
“Whatever.  He threw himself into battle despite overwhelming odds and died for his...”
“Her, sir.”
The station master went on with a wave of his hand.  “...Empire, for his race!  What could be a more noble act?  If anyone deserves disgrace it would be that idiot PtAn!  What kind of a man would turn and run like that, while he still has the power to fight back?”
“Their weapons were disabled, sir, how could they fight back?”, queried BrAnt.
 “That is why you are MY assistant.  Shut up, BrAnt.  They could have rammed them, of course!  Anyway, PtAn is a looser.  I’ve decided!  I’m going to put have PtAn put on the next barge for the Rockworld mining facility.  He’s a disgrace to his boots!  Furthermore, I’m going to suggest that the newly discovered system be named QwAt after the heroic commander that died to protect it!  Sounds like a good idea, huh BrAnt?”
 Leaning back in his chair the station master grinned smugly like a doggy with a new bone.  BrAnt, however, was speechless.  His face flushed again and he began to open his mouth to speak, but thought better of it.  Considering HArdrA’s reaction to the Hound incident, it seemed that it might be better to avoid saying anything that sounded too intelligent.  There was one question, however, that he had to ask.
 “Station Master?”  murmured BrAnt.
 “Speak away, BrAnt”, replied HArdrA, the stupidly content smile still lighting up his face.
 “Station Master, what about the aliens?  Is anything to be done about the threat they pose
to our borders?”
 “Ha,ha,ha,ha!” howled HArdrA.  “You are a silly guy BrAnt!  That’s why I keep you around!  You don’t seriously think they could pose a threat to our glorious empire do you?  Before you know it they will be begging to join us!  Just wait and see!”
 Smiling weakly, BrAnt mumbled an grudging agreement.
 “What, BrAnt?  You sound skeptical!  Do you seriously doubt the power of our awe inspiring empire?”, HArdrA asked suspiciously.  Leaning closer he fixed upon BrAnt what was supposed to be an intimidating glare.  With a sigh, BrAnt stood, saluted stiffly, and barked:
 
“All hail The Empire!  All hail Chancellor Cylikon!  May the burnished one forever sit upon the throne!  HEY, HO,HUP!”