A new chapter commeth, whoo! Anyway, thanks to Ted Hsu for beta reading again and to all reviewers both here and on TLR, replies are at the end of the chapter.

Chapter 14: Incentive

Von Claussen stepped onto the flight deck and was surprised to find it free of technicians hurriedly buzzing around fighters, re-attaching severed wings and so forth.

Today all he found was a group of pilots in various house military uniforms, gathered around Orillion. After a moment he recognised a number of the faces and realised that he was looking at the survivors of the fighter squadron that the fleet had launched, minus Trent and Commander Zane of course.

"Von Claussen," Orillion uttered distantly, his voice seemed sadder somehow, maybe thing were worse then they seemed.

"As you may or may not know, I recently sent Colonel's Trent and Zane, and Lieutenant Commander Andriano," he gestured at one of the pilots, Von Claussen couldn't clearly see who, "On a patrol into Omega 41. What they found was the debris of your houses' combined attack fleet."

A deathly silence was the answer to this. There were no surprised gasps or utterances of disbelief. People simply stared at Orillion, deadpan, as they waited for the anger to appear.

After a few moments, one man uttered what appeared to be a snarl. A few faces turned to look at him, but most people were too wound up in their own pain and hatred.

Every one of them had had friends on the battleships that were now apparently nothing but floating hulks in the middle of some backwater system that almost no one had ever heard of. The ships had

been crewed by their friends and colleagues, trusted people who had pledged their lives to bring peace and stability to Sirius, who had been murdered by beings with no respect for such things; creatures who sought only genocide.

Von Claussen simply stared at Orillion feeling nothing but a sick numbness. Again. The Nomads had snatched the lives of friends and colleagues from him again! The part of his mind that would quote from years of training and experience that told him these things like this happened in war was silent. He didn't want logic, he didn't want rationality and he didn't want any form of relief from the pain he was feeling. He wanted Nomad blood, and he wanted it soon.

It took a measure of self-control to keep him from launching a fist at the person standing next to him, the remnants of his self control pulled him back however, and he settled for launching a fist at the wing of a 'Dagger' that lay next to him.

The result was what he'd expected, the fighter was undamaged and his fist hurt. Nevertheless, he clung to the pain, and let it fuel his hatred.

Orillion waited almost ten minutes before speaking again, these people needed time to deal with their pain, a lot more time than ten minutes, but time was a luxury that they could no longer afford. At least they'd have calmed down somewhat.

"I'm sorry." He paused slightly as the crowd turned their attention back to him. Some people appeared to look upon him with hostility. It was all too easy in situations like this to blame the messenger.

It won't last, he told himself.

"Listen carefully all of you, the threat the Nomads now pose if far greater then that we faced during the first war. The Nomads are far stronger then before, and if our information is correct, they're

producing dozens of new capital ships and hundreds of new fighters on a daily basis."

An uneasy murmur passed through the collection of pilots. The hatred, though far from gone in any of them, had receded enough to allow a new emotion to take form: fear.

"Reports from Zoner convoys, Freelancers and Bounty Hunters indicate that the Nomads have already purged Omega 11, Omicron Theta and Omicron Alpha. We also have reports of incursions into Omicron Gamma and the Sigma systems, and we believe an enemy taskforce is on its way to Bretonian space. I have already contacted the Bretonain government and they assure me that they'll move a significant force to the Cambridge system." This news did little to ease the growing

anxiety in the Bretonian pilots.

"I do have some good news however."

For some, the shock of this last sentence was almost as great as that of hearing that the fleet had been destroyed.

"We have information from a Freelancer by the name of Kristin Skiba of the location and defences of what appears to be a Nomad shipyard in an uncharted system accessible through Omicron Gamma. From Skiba's flight recorder, we have been able to make out fourteen Orbital battleship construction areas, as well as what looks like a," Orillion paused, searching for the right word, "hatchery on one of the two planet surfaces," on another they appear to be constructing

human fighters, so far we've positively identified the construction of both Dragons and Crusader class fighters."

"How is THIS good news?" One of the pilots near the back asked, she virtually spat out the words.

"Because I believe we have a good chance of destroying it, and also that doing so will successfully halt the enemy's advance, and give us a fighting chance in this war."

Orillion paused again, letting the words sink in. The situation had already begun to look hopeless for one too many people; he had already had three suicides and one deserter among his own people. He

needed to convince them that all was not lost yet, and to help nurture this belief, humanity needed a victory. A big one, and soon.

"I want any volunteers who are willing to help destroy this shipyard to take one step..."

Every one of the assembled pilots took one step forward.

Satisfaction zinged through Trent as he watched the second Nomad fighter die, the enemy patrol had ambushed them near the jump hole, two gunboats and five fighters. They had presumably been left behind to deal with any pestiferous humans that entered the system and keep their presence secret from the rest of Sirius for as long as possible.

The reason didn't matter so much to Trent however seeing as the Nomads were taking pot shots at both him and Juni.

So far, the Nomads attempt at an ambush had met with limited success, they had already lost four fighters, and one gunboat had been forced to cloak and retreat through the jump hole.

The Nomads had a fearful reputation amongst the house militaries, they were considered by many to be semi-mythical demons who were more then a match for any human at the best of times. The simple truth however was that Nomads were, with few exceptions, no better in the cockpit then any experienced human pilot. Their key to victory was to fly in swarms, using multiple fighters to attack one target; this was the reason for the heavy losses the Order had suffered during the first war, and also the reason for their reputation.

Trent and Juni, from experience, knew better. Their two ships were more then a match for the Nomad fighters, and there were not enough enemy ships to do enough damage to them.

A cannonball missile from Juni finished off the final Nomad fighter that was attempting to make it back to the Jump hole. Its destruction left only one gunboat in the area, which also appeared to be retreating.

Trent unleashed a Sunslayer torpedo at the enemy. During the first war, just one would have been enough to destroy a Nomad gunboat. Now it managed to reduce the enemy's hull integrity by roughly fifty percent.

The ship's turrets opened fire on Juni's tri-winged Defender as it flew closer to its weakened flank. Juni had little trouble evading its fire. The weapons on any gunboat, human or Nomad were designed for punching holes in large targets, but fighters could more often than not evade their fire.

She unleashed a stream of gunfire into the target, as well as two more Sunslayer torpedoes. After delivering her payload, she flew over the target and away, dropping a Ripper mine as she did so. It was this that finally caused the Nomad vessel's destruction.

Trent watched the series of blue explosions and felt another, stronger surge of elation. He had watched human installations and ships as nothing but debris for too long. The Nomads were owed some losses of their own, and even though these losses would hardly cripple their war effort, and that future battles would be nowhere near that easy, it felt good to score a victory.

There was no salvagable loot from the downed vessels, not that Trent especially cared, tractoring severed Nomad weapons or Nanobots always made him nervous, he always found himself worrying that he tractored a Nomad onboard with the loot.

"Feeling better?" Juni asked conversationally over the radio.

"Much," Trent replied with obvious satisfaction in his voice, "but we can't waste time, we have to get to Bretonia."

"Right, we're already in range of the jump hole, you go first, I'll bring up the rear, stay sharp we don't know what's..."

"Something's coming through!" Trent said suddenly, fresh tension emerging within him.

"Damn it!" Juni said, "Pull back, get at least two and a half kilometres away, I want to be able to run if we have to."

"Got it." Trent replied.

The two pulled away from the jump hole, but they weren't quick enough to stay out of weapons' range of the ship coming through.

Not that this really mattered considering that it was a Rheinland battleship with two gunboat escorts.

"Commander Zane, Mr. Trent, we've been looking for you." The thick Rheinland accent was so similar to the one Trent remembered in Cambridge from the battleship Wotan that he half expected to be fired

upon.

"We were told you might be heading this way." The voice continued, "Rheinland recently received word from the Order battleship regarding the new Nomad threat, this information has also been conveyed to all other houses and independent stations throughout

Sirius. We've been sent to collect you."

"Collect us?" Juni asked, "Why?"

"All house warships not dedicated to defence of our territories have been diverted to the Edge worlds, and your leader, Orillion I think it is, anyway, he requested that any ship that runs into you bring you back to the battleship Osiris."

Juni scanned all of the Rheinland vessels for Nomad life signs. It was possible that this was a ruse used by the enemy to lure unsuspecting human pilots to land, where they could be promptly possessed and used as spies or infiltrators.

When the scan result showed nothing but humans on all three vessels, she breathed a slight sigh of relief.

"Alright, Trent, you dock first, I'll follow you in."

To be continued.

Right, now for replies:

Hahukum Konn: Save your eeks sir, things are looking up. Not that I won't bring in more problems or the protagonists but still, all is not lost. Thanks for reviewing and I'll look over your chapter tomorrow.

Jummeh: The Microsoft guys neither confirm nor deny a Freelancer 2, and I'm not bringing co-allition types into the story. Anyway, thanks for reviewing. Who's Dubya by the way?