Admiral Damond Price's Story

Admiral Price was looking over the operation plans that had just been delivered to him. For several months he had been informed of the possibilty of Congregate ships hyperwarping into the Excalibur's main territory. It seemed unlikely, but he needed to be prepared. No more human lives were to be lost to the enemy. Well, THAT enemy. The Republic was another problem altogether.

Price had been under the impression for some time that the Republic may have been tricking humanity all along. He believed, though he did not express it very often, that the Congregate and Republic were working together to end the Federation permanently. Though many new he was anti-Republic, few had fully realized his conspiritorial mind at work. His ideas had many holes, which he plugged with further theories and wild tales. He had spies throughout the Republic Navy, though none past the rank of Commander. They were meant to help confirm his suspiscions.

"Sir."

He looked to his left. A commander was saluting him. Interesting timing.

"Yes, commander?"

"We've received reports that confirm your earlier statements: Julian Russell is building a team to take back Earth."

"Does he plan on having any unduli on his side?" the admiral asked, looking back at the operation plans.

"Yes, sir," was the answer that reached his ears. Price sighed deeply and said, "Let the radical keep swimming. But the further out he goes, the closer he'll come to getting bitten by a shark."

Was he wrong? Was this dangerous territory to step in? Could the Republic even be trusted?

"Admiral."

Price was looking out at the stars from the Excalibur's bridge.

"What is it, Trevor?"

"Sir, it's about the Valiance. It just got back."

The room went quiet, cold, and then became utterly soaked in the apphrension of Admiral Price. He whipped around and was silent for what seemed like centuries. Then, he spoke:

"Who survived the scouting run."

"Only the pilot, sir," was the response. "He has much to tell you."

Again, the silence dragged. It felt like another thousand years had passed before Price said, "Get him to the debriefing chamber now."

It wasn't long before he and the pilot were sitting in front of one another in the debriefing room. The latter looked terrified, frozen from head to toe.

"You made it to Luna?" Damond asked, and the response was, "Yes."

"You landed on the surface?"

A horrible memory seemed to pass through the pilot before he answered, "Yes."

"And you sent the probe out?"

"We did."

"Did it make it?"

"Yes."

"And what did you see?"

The pilot's eyes were glazed, but no tears fell. The madness of the memory filled the room. Price understood.

"I..." the pilot started, "...I saw buildings toppled in. Home...I was just a baby when...there were bodies. But, Admiral, sir."

"Take your time, son."

They were of course unrelated, but name seemed necessary to remind the young man that he was cared for.

"There were some, still alive...they were different though. Circuits...circuits running through them."

"Like the jecktar?"

"Yes, sir."

This was news.

"Then, they saw the probe...they tracked the...we were overwhelmed. The whole ship was...I barely made it out. The captain...Jeff...he died in our escape. I'm so...I'm sorry..."

He couldn't talk. He was absolutely wrecked. Admiral Price told him, "You did good, son, you did good. I'm proud of you."

He left and told the nearest officer, "Earth's a lost cause. Julian's efforts will be for nothing."

What was there left to go back to? Why go at all? For the victory? For the truth?

"The beast has grown too strong. Our only chance against the Congregate is to be prepared for a strike."

"But, sir," began the officer, who had been listening in on the debriefing, "they're augmenting humans. Why?"

The admiral didn't know, but he gave the officer his best answer, "They lost of lot of troops in the war. They may have needed to regroup. I don't have all the data. But we should be prepared to fight our own fallen people if necessary."

He then departed to return to the bridge.

Previously on Renaissance: Captain Julian Russel assembled a team of misfit specialists in an attempt to retake the human homeworld of Earth from the Jecktar Congregate. The team members so far are Jane Solara, Tyriel Tanani, Douglas "Penknife" Arthurs, Andreah Lawrence, and pilot Jaron Greer. They were all briefed on their first objective: to acquire the technology of a race only spoken of in tall tales and ancient lore. Some of them believed the captain was nuts to bank everything on these rumors, but his desperation was justified by a so-called "backup plan."

Meanwhile, Admiral Zhotan Kuro has begun to concentrate on the activities of this new team, hoping it does well on its mission to save Earth. On the other hand, Admiral Damond Price of the Federation Navy has more pessimistic views, especially after receiving news from a scouting team he sent to Earth (well, the pilot of the team). Apparently the Congregate has been augmenting humans in some way. It's unknown what the reason was.

On Earth itself, the one they call "Chief" has lost his team to the jecktar. Only time will tell whether he'll be alive by the time Cap's team reaches the planet. On a side note, it seems he and his resistance were experimenting new ways of defeating the jecktar. Could this be the solution to defeating them?

Well shall find out in the first true chapter of the series:

CHAPTER ONE: GOD REST YE MERRY GENTLEMEN.

Julian sounded off the alert to report to the Sunstrider's primary hangar bay. A large congregation was surrounding the ship now. Julian stood on the boarding ramp answering the questions of reports, some from the Republic, others from the Federation.

"It's been rumored," one human reporter began, "that your current objective is based on legends and speculation, Captain Russell. Why attempt this mission at all with such slim odds of starting, let alone success?"

Julian kept his poker face up as he answered, "I don't know where you heard that rumor, but I can say with complete certainty that it is false and should be dismissed by any who believe it in the slightest."

He wondered who had spilled the beans. There was a Non-Disclosure Agreement that everyone had to sign when asked about the Anathians.

Now, where were those crew members of his? It had been at least two hours since he sent the alert. They'd have to push through the crowd, but that'd come alone fine.