A Good Fan story of the Dilgar Wars (B5)

[LordArt]

I was googling the net to see if anything of my video game had been mentioned elsewhere and I came across a RATHER good story (I haven't read all of it yet, but it looks good) of the rise of Jha'Dur (DeathWalker from B5). It's a fan story, but it's of quality writting and story telling, so I found it interesting...

http://forums.spacebattles.com/archive/ ... 87220.html

[LordArt]

I found this amusing...It was talking about a Warlock Class ship in B5 and what the convo was probably during it's design...

"Sir we've got these planetery defence weapons, we just..."
"Put them on a ship."
"But sir, they are planetary grade..."
"On a ship."
"The satellites needed to carry them are..."
"On.A.Ship."
"The power needed is just too..."
"What part of 'on a ship' are you not getting?"
*sigh* "yes sir."
"In fact put two on. and a bunch of missiles, oh and rail guns, we haven't had a good rail gun ship in a while. And more really big guns, just to embarrass the Centauri."

[LordArt]

I saw this in one of the comments of the same thread... A fantasy convo between a captain and their XO.

"Today is a good day to die."

"Sir?"

"What?"

"We're not a Klingon ship."

"Oh, ummm, oh shit we're gonna die?"

"Better Sir."

[LordArt]

Another snipppet, this time from the actual storyline... The Sergeant is Garabali's father. They are breaking in two new Lieutenants because the other's got killed. Franklin is Dr. Franklin's father:

The two Lieutenants shared a quick glance, they had expected to be filling gaps left by promoted officers, not casualties.
“Sergeant,” Franklin spoke a bit louder. “Do you have a nick name Sergeant?”
“Yes sir.” He answered.
“What is that nick name Sergeant?”
“Crowbar sir.” He answered simply.
“Would you like to explain to your new superiors how you came by that name Sergeant Garibaldi?” Franklin was carefully monitoring their expressions.
“During a recent deployment I located a Dilgar special forces soldier and beat him to death with a crowbar. Sir.”

..........later on...........

“Well?” The Captain asked.
“Lieutenant Sanchez was a good man sir.” Garibaldi said. “They have a big pair of boots to fill.”
“They’re highly recommended.” The dark officer stated. “The Colonel of the 24th wasn’t happy to let Brook go, but when he heard why we needed the replacements he gave in.”
“Seems competent sir.” Garibaldi said. “And I can work with that.”
“Work with it Sergeant?” Franklin gave an amused glance to his NCO. “Ah yes, I forgot it is Sergeants who run the army.”
“Yes sir.” Garibaldi replied with a faint grin. “But we need officers to draw bullets and take our places at formal dinners sir.”
Franklin actually laughed, a very rare occurrence on duty. “Careful Sergeant, we can’t let them know that.” He sighed. “Lieutenant Fox is new, first assignment, but she finished third in her year and was commended for her fast thinking in a crisis. She has potential, she just needs a little guidance.”
“Yes sir, I’ll keep an eye on sir.”
“Very good Sergeant, dismiss.”
“Yes sir.” Garibaldi stood to, then headed for the door.
“And Sergeant.” Franklin stopped him. “When we go on exercise, try not to let her get the platoon lost.”
“I’ll keep my own map sir.” Garibaldi nodded, then set off on his newest duty. Nursemaid.

[LordArt]

Wow... No wonder it's taken me so long to read this. It's up to 450,000 words. From what I understand from other people's comments on the threads, in a normal sized "triology", it'd be up to book 4 by now! ....And Earth hasn't entered the war yet!!! Oh, it's a rich read and will suck your life away, and what sucks is I'm almost at "present time" in the comments. Somehow I don't think it will be done by 2008....It started in August 2005. It's a worthy read reguardless...

[LordArt]

Because I'm Amused....Another snippett:



“I meant to ask what is that badge?” he gestured at the Beret. “Haven’t seen that before.”
“Deep recon.” She answered. “I mean really deep, we were trained to vanish into the terrain for literally weeks at a time observing enemy movements without them ever knowing. We’d go right behind enemy lines, trained to land on alien worlds even and survive alone for months.”
“Damn, that’s got to take nerve.” Francis appreciated.
“Yeah, takes a rare kind of person to do that, and also those skills are exactly what the EIA looks for in field agents. Not just me, Chapel and Director Brogan all started as Special Forces, though Chapel was less about deep recon and more wiping out whole platoons with a knife and a bad attitude.”
“Like the Special Forces on vids?”
“Much, much worse than that.” Jenny corrected. “Chapel’s probably killed more people than nukes. You do not want him as an enemy. Best ally you could wish for, but I’d hate to be in his way.”

[LordArt]

The story just told the "Omega Incident" that was mentioned in "In the Beginning". That same movie said the commander was "cleared" of the incident but Sheridon was worried about the guy. Now I see why. It was the same commander that ended up starting the whole Earth/Minbari War later on. The guy actually ended up getting Earth into the Dilgar War a little early, and royally screwed up there too. Only politics got him out of it (or rather will likely considering it just happened in the story), to later TRUELY screw up starting the war with the Minbari. From the novelization of the movie, it said when they went to go and offer him to the Minbari, they found him dead and that he had shot himself while watching the destruction the Minbari was doing and him knowning it was his fault.

[LordArt]

After some massive space battles and ground assaults, the Jankowski incident is actually started to be discussed. Ah the opening line says it all (From a VERY pissed off general talking to the Secretary of State)

“I think you misunderstand me Mr Secretary, I’m not saying Jankowski should be kicked out of the service, I’m saying he should be kicked out of his ship. Preferably in such a way that he falls into the sun to be positive his brand of idiocy is completely removed from the universe!”

[LordArt]

The story has finally progressed to Jha'dur being in control, after the warmaster council pushed her too far. (ie. her side: the war leaders, and "their side": the politicians) Sha'dur is her brother(also a warmaster) that Len'char effectively had killed for political reasons(which is what has finally set Jha'dur off). A snippett from the scene:

“But the Council has already chosen a Deputy for the Supreme Warmaster, someone to exercise his executive powers during Gar’shan’s incapacity.” Dru’tal continued. “That would be Warmaster Len’char.”
“Ahh yes, Len’char.” A grin crossed Jha’dur’s face. “I was told he was swinging his weight around.”
“He called this meeting, shouldn’t he be here?” Sen’la asked.
“Actually I called it using his authorisation.” Jha’dur said. “He signed all his powers over to me.”

Dru’tal actually laughed. “Len’char gave you, you of all people Jha’dur, his Warmaster authority?”
“You’d have to skin him alive to get him to agree to that!” Sen’la joined the laughter.
Jha’dur let them chuckle for a few seconds. “Actually I only had to flay one hand before he begged me to take his power.”
Sen’la kept laughing, but Dru’tal felt realisation dawn on him. “Oh gods, you did too didn’t you?”
Jha’dur produced a folded sheet of paper and threw it before Dru’tal. “You’ll find Len’char’s signature on there, it’s all legally binding.”
Sen’la finally stopped laughing.
“If this was signed under duress, there’s no way it…”
“Shut up Dru’tal.” Jha’dur said pleasantly. “If you want to debate the legality of this document I have a room for you in Lab Nine, if you want to live you will sit there and do whatever I say. Do you understand?”
He grunted in acknowledgement.
Jha’dur suddenly slammed both hands on the table and shot to her feet. “I asked a question!” she bellowed. “Do you understand?”
“Yes Warmaster.” Dru’tal said more clearly. “I understand, and obey.”
The thunderous look on her face passed like a fleeting cloud. “Good.” She smiled and sat down. “So just to clarify, I will cast Len’char’s vote for him, and Gar’shan’s, and I will hold his executive power until he returns. And he will return.” She looked to the empty seat beside her, the one her brother had once sat. “this place will remain empty until I find someone fit to take Sha’dur’s place.”
Sen’la frowned, and Jha’dur knew what he was about to say and cut him off.
“Par’nan as I understand was appointed by Len’char to fill that space.” She stated. “Unfortunately he lacks one vital characteristic required by all Warmasters.”
“And that is?”
“A head.”
For the first time in quite a while Jha’dur was having a little fun.

“So, the next subject.” She pressed on, ignoring the horrified looks of the Council seated before her. “Construction.”
“You killed Par’nan?” Sen’la asked incredulously. “You killed a Warmaster…and tortured Len’char?”
“Yes, you’re point?”
Sen’la didn’t really have anything else to say. “No point Warmaster. Just curious.”

[LordArt]

It's gotten so big, here is the continuing thread:

http://forums.spacebattles.com/archive/ ... 5-p-1.html

[LordArt]

And yes I am compelled to share more... A Nova Dreadnaught-Nemesis just killed a rather high tech Dilgar prototype vessel in a well thought out ambush. This is a "colorful" captain who likes to run his dreadnaught like a pirate ship...

“Well, productive day at the office don’t you think?” Captain Tennant asked jovially.
“For us sir, yes.” Anderson agreed. “Not if you’re Dilgar.”
“If you listen closely I think you can hear my heart breaking for them.” Tennant paused. “No, actually that’s just wind.”
“Recovery teams notified, we’ll have the intel guys going over what’s left with a fine tooth comb.”
“Might be enough left to make a difference.” The Captain considered. “But Lady Nemesis doesn’t like leaving scraps.” He patted the chair. “Do you girl? Course not, good weapon of Mass Destruction.”
Anderson filed the moment in the part of his mind he often tried to erase. “Orders sir?”
“Back to Altair station.” Tennant ordered. “And break out the Jolly Rogers, we’re coming home with our weapons blooded.”

[LordArt]

More fun stuff. The "pirate" captain of the Nemesis Dreadnaught is back in action. They are hitting a fighter factory close to the Dilgar homeworld, but it's just a RAID. They are taking out the protecting starbase.

Beyond the fighter battle the starbase was a mass of flame, its surface glowing like a sun with tens of thousands of tons worth of material slowly falling away from the battered facility. Even so a few guns still replied giving the interceptor grids something to do while the dreadnoughts kept up their bombardment.
“Oh come on! Isn’t this thing ever going to die?” Tennant grumbled. “I plan on eating today some time you know!”
“We’ve burned through three layers of armour, just the core protection left.” Anderson explained. “They built this thing to last.”
“They built it to piss me off.” Tennant replied angrily. “I thought this would be fun, drive by shooting with forty gigantic cannons like we usually do. Damn I hate hard work.”
“We still have the fighter factory to kill next sir.”
He sighed. “Thank you Dilgar, thank you for robbing the joy out of massive explosions.” He paused. “Nearly.”
Finally with a crack of light the starbase exploded, its remaining structure little more than massive black lumps of molten and broken metal slowly pushed away by the blast.
“About time.” The Captain grumbled. “Note that station down in the book of things Lady Nemesis has killed.”
“You mean the ship’s log sir?”
“Same thing.” Tennant shrugged. “My girl likes to party, and nothing says party like blowing up a metric crapload of stuff and then running way.” He patted the familiar armrests. “I love my Lady Nemesis, my kind of girl.”
“Moving on sir, we’re coming into range of the factory.”
“Good, more breakables.”
“Target locked and ready.”
“Ruin their day.”

[LordArt]

Earth force has finally linked up with the Drazi Stronghold. But only one person is in charge of the Drazi military right now. The EA commander has no real idea what to expect so he has his best diplomacy hat on. This is their meeting:

“My name is Donald Ferguson, Admiral, Earth Force Sixth fleet.”
“I am Stro’kath.” The Drazi grated in heavily accented but understandable English. “I am Warleader of the Drazi space ships.”
Ferguson nodded. “I am here to offer the friendship and support of the Earth Alliance to the Drazi Freehold.”
“And you start this friendship by destroying a Dilgar fleet I had targeted, and by putting Earth soldiers on Drazi soil without permission?” The Warleader said plainly but forcefully.
Ferguson had to think very quickly, it suddenly looked like this new alliance wasn’t getting off to the best start.
“Well we had a long journey and needed some entertainment, thirty ships charging a Dreadnought line was the funniest thing I’ve seen.”
Stro’kath tilted his head a little.
“But we left you fifty thousand Dilgar soldiers in the capital, we didn’t want to have all the fun.”
The Drazi warrior moved a step closer and scrutinized Ferguson more, the thin human not flinching from his gaze. The only time he jumped was when without warning Stro’kath roared in a massive burst of laughter.
“Good! Good!” The Drazi coursed. “You stood your ground to me! You pass the test, I knew I was right about you!”
He slapped the Admiral on the shoulder, to the Drazi a friendly tap, to the human a strike bordering on assault. Ferguson took it in good humour and waited for the tingling to go away.
“I have heard lots about humans.” Stro’kath continued jovially. “From your government and from Dilgar prisoners who fought you. You should have seen their faces when we told them a human fleet was coming here!”
“I bet they were surprised.” Ferguson grinned.
“Yes they were!” Stro’kath laughed. “We thought about letting them see you in person, but by then we had decided just to burn them instead. We need better long term planning.”
“Well, that is a nice story.” Ferguson offered with a shrug. “My people are ready to turn over this world to you and your forces, we seek no claim on it.”
“And we Drazi accept and thank Earth.” Stro’kath replied formally. “You offer help and ask for nothing in return? This is unusual to us.”
“Well it isn’t without reward.” Ferguson corrected. “We get to kill Dilgar and split their forces by punching through on this front.”
“Your reward is to kill Dilgar?” Stro’kath beamed before roaring once more. “Where has your race been all this time? Oh, it’s about time we found some allies like you. Killing Dilgar, this is going to be great!”

The two senior officers began to walk through the rubble clogged streets, the honour guards standing down and mingling, fascinated by the collection of weapons and equipment each side used.
“As I say Admiral,” Stro’kath spoke more conversationally. “We have examined your battles, and the great success you have achieved.”
“Thank you, unfortunately we haven’t seen many of your engagements.”
Stro’kath huffed. “Our government is not so open and sharing, they did not even want you here you know? They said we could win alone and did not need help.”
Ferguson raised an eyebrow. “What changed?”
“I convinced them to agree to Earth ships fighting with us. You have proven yourselves and I say openly I am honoured to fight with the victors of Markab. You wiped out Deathwalker’s fleet! That alone made me smile for two weeks solid!”
“How did you change their minds?” Ferguson asked.
“Traditional Drazi method.” He answered earnestly. “I hit them. In the face. Very hard until they agreed, or were unable to vote against me because they were unconscious.”
“That sounds like a good way to win a vote.”
“It takes some effort.” Stro’kath nodded. “But is very great fun!”
The two Commanders laughed, to Ferguson it was an insane system but it seemed to have delivered a worthy result in the squat but powerful shape of Stro’kath. Sometimes he concluded it did seem to work.

[LordArt]

This is during the "Final Battle" at Balos (This is the second major engagement there since the first one, EA got thier butt handed to them by Jha'dur...This isn't going much better.). My favorite Dreadnaught Captain Tennant in the middle of a massive battle:

The bridge rattled as Bolter fire impacted several hundred yards away, battering the heavy armour.
“Those ships are heading straight for us.” Tennant pointed out, the image of them framed by outgoing laser fire.
“I see that sir, guns are tracking!”
“If they hit my ship I’ll be pissed!” Tennant said.
“I know sir!”
“We only just got finished picking kitty bits out of the hull after last time!”
“Yes sir!”
The Nemesis held her nerve, drowning the enemy ships in fire. The fast moving Dilgar vessels fell apart just a few hundred yards away, rolling into fireballs that scraped by on either side of the Earth warship framing her in a ring of bright fire, one the Nemesis cruised through with all guns roaring in defiance. A picture of the indomitable spirit of both ship and crew.
“Kiss my arse kitty!” Tennant shook his fist at the wrecks. “Next!”

[LordArt]

On Balos, a massive skimmish is going on to Capture the main hacker into the Dilgar coded message systems. Jha'dur wants him alive and sent in Spectres (invisible commandos who are only loyal to Jha'dur...She's taken out the entire Warmaster Council with them at this point) to capture the hacker (electronic warfare expert). Paul is kind of a "pirate" freighter Captain with a fetish for old weapons....

Val’cet, second in prestige among the Spectres smiled, removing his mask so the human could se his face. This was the target, the code breaker his Warmaster demanded. He had wounded him, and the wound was a serious one but if he moved fast the Warmaster would still have a living prize for her entertainment. He took a cord from his pocket and prepared to bind the young man, stepping over him when he heard a mechanical click, then an impact like a hammer.
Paul had risen to his feet, mouth full of blood like a Vampire. He raised a pistol in his hand, a potent .45 Colt and without bothering to declare himself fired into the Spectre, the bullets punching into his back. Unfortunately Val’cet also had high grade body armour. He turned as the bullets hit him, changing the impacts from his back to his chest, the fabric ripping and one round searing past one ear before the gun clicked empty.
It was a distraction, but one Val’cet decided to indulge in, withdrawing his personalised knife with a slow deliberate action. He felt the bullet impacts, the squashed hot lead in his body armour and their ineffectiveness, then looked up and smiled evilly at Paul, taking a step forward.
Paul also smiled, exposing blood streaked teeth as he dropped the expended Colt and took another weapon from his side, the smile growing wider as he hauled up a massive revolver with an impractically long barrel. It was his pride and joy, an original Smith and Wesson .44 Magnum immortalised in 20th Century culture. He owned it because of its heritage, but also because in a galaxy of giant aliens the stupidly big gun usually was the last word in any situation.
As he raised it up and pointed the vast hand cannon at Val’cet, the Dilgar’s smile slowly died on his face.

This time the body armour did not save the Spectre, and Val’cet’s last thought was a curse of humans and their unswerving desire to always have a bigger gun.
Paul raised the gun as the Spectre sailed through the air and hit the ground, thrown there by the force of the high powered bullet.
“Made my day.” He remarked coldly. “Punk.”