i mead i could probably go through this and copy down what iv already wrote and start again on the new stuff, but this place is a wasteland

ur like the third person to comment on this

im just not motivated to go to all that trouble...

There is no way I can force a writer to write against his will... but if you find it in your heart to continue then by all means please do. When you do something from the bottom of your heart and enjoy it then it does not matter what people do or do not. I like it and would give you karma but I do not know how, do you? Is there a button for it or something? If you tell me then I can give karma to every good story I find... a good story always deserves some karma and yours is.

Anyway, please don't think I am bribing you or something. Peace man, out.

Fujuki

well, how can i say no to that? i guess i can find the time to start all over again.

expect a new one by next week

and theres a thumbs up button next to the report button, thats for karma i think

 Well, this is a great story. The next part was really eerie and ominous. Keep the story going! I wwant to hear more

Chapter 3, part 1
She Stays With Us

The Trader Emergency Coalition

1,000 years ago, outside Trader-controlled space

    "All right people gather round!" Harrison barked out.
    The command crew of the Protev colony frigate formed a circle around Harrison as he continued talking.
    "I've instructed our diplomatic staff to prepare a welcoming ceremony in the cavern outside. It is planned for tonight, and there is very little time. Therefore, if you see anyone in a yellow jacket, please get out of their way. Pass this around the ship. We need every minute we have to be ready to welcome the Family into the Trade Order!"
    "They've agreed, then?" One man called out.
    Harrison shook his head. "No, they will be asked at the ceremony. It will be a surprise. A pleasant one, hopefully. I cannot see them turning down such a lucrative offer, though, can you?"
    The crowd laughed in agreement. Exclusive rights to be fast tracked on the Trade Order admissions list? What sovereignty wouldn't wish that?

---------------------------

    "Come now, Lieutenant Harrison, tell me for what purpose we are going to your people's docking station."
    "I told you," said Harrison with a grin, "its a surprise."
    Portugal cocked his head curiously. "That is an interesting word. "Surprise." What does it mean?"
    "You don't know what a surprise is?" Harrison couldn't keep the incredulity from his voice, though he tried to hide it.
    "We do not," said Portugal tightly. Harrison winced at the sound of his voice. "Will you explain it?"
    "I apologize Brother Gibbings, I misspoke. A "surprise" is something unexpected that one does to another. Usually they are pleasant."
    "Unexpected?" Portugal's eyebrows rose. "Curious."
    Curious? But Harrison couldn't inquire further. They had reached the unmarked door that led to their "docking station." Harrison still thought of it as a cave, albeit a large one.
    "A cavern..." Portugal muttered.
    "What?" Said Harrison, startled.
    "A large cave, it is called a cavern."
    "Oh," said Harrison in the same confused tone. "All right..."
    Now what had he been thinking about? Oh, it was gone now. Whatever.
    "Brother Gibbings," said Harrison majestically, placing a hand on the door's lever. "We of the Trade Order, gentle in our sovereignty, gracious in our trade, extend to the people known as the Family the outstanding and unique offer of immediate acceptance into the Trade Order upon the signing of the Charter of Membership."
    With that he flung open the door, and the diplomatic party began.

---------------------------

    "Bring out the treaty!" Harrison roared as his diplomatic staff cheered Portugal Gibbings and the other Family members that had followed him into the cavern.
    Four diplomats came down the ship's ramp, holding the immense treaty in their hands. The Charter for Membership into the Trade Order hummed faintly as it was placed on an empty table near Harrison. Harrison beckoned the Family members over, and tapped the Charter when Portugal and the others approached.
    The holo-document glowed faintly as a female voice began reading its contents.
    "The Charter for Membership into the Trade Order. The purposes of the Trade Order: To maintain peace and interplanetary security and to prevent and remove threats and acts of aggression to the peace of the Trade Order. To develop friendly ties between intersystem and intrasystem planets, based on the principles of free and unrestricted trade, equal rights of all Traders, and to strengthen the universal market.
    "All members of the Trade Order shall act in accordance with the following Principles: 1. This Order is based on the principle of sovereign equality of all its members. 2. A member planet will not assault or be involved in an assault on another member planet. 3. A member planet will not assault a nonmember planet unless specifically advised to by the Trade Order. 4. A member planet will agree to give economic aid to another member planet, if requested and within reason. 5. A member planet will present one representative from its planet at the Trade Order Council (TOC) for an eight-year term. 6. A planet wishing for admittance into the Trade Order must have an approval rating of 70% or higher. 7. If at any time a member planet's approval rating drops to 30% or below, the Trade Order Council (TOC) retains the right to vote said planet out of the Trade Order, or impose precautionary restrictions or limitations on said planet as the Council sees fit. 8. If a planet is expelled from the Trade Order, it may reapply for membership if it meets the preliminary requirements. However, the Trade Order Council (TOC) retains the right to deny a  second-time applicant even if all qualifications are met. There can be no third reapplication. 9--"
    "Enough," said Portugal curtly, and Harrison paused the treaty's repetition.
    "What is it?"
    "We have already given you our answer, Lieutenant Harrison, although perhaps you did not understand what you were hearing. Our answer is no."
    "It's...what?"
    Around the room, many mouths dropped open. They were refusing?
    "We have not come here to listen to your demands of confirmation into your culture. We are here to make our own demands. There is a woman aboard your ship, a Lutrice Hawken. Bring her to us."
    Harrison gaped. They wanted what?
    The other Family members circled the Protev frigate and the diplomats. Harrison could see that other Family members had filed into the room while the treaty was reciting its contents. They now encircled the entire room, and they wore dark, menacing cloaks with intricate runes spread along the sleeves. For the first time, Harrison found himself asking the question, what exactly were the Family members?
    "You heard us." Portugal's voice was harsh, completely opposite to the light, friendly tone he had used as the Family's sole diplomat. "Bring the woman to us."
    Harrison started. The blasted man's eyes had changed! Instead of resembling Trader's eyes, they now were pure white, without even a pupil. They seemed to burn with a hidden power. Harrison looked around, and saw the Protev's crew all looking at him.
    "Blasted stars," he murmured, and hurried up the Protev's ramp. The diplomats carried no weapons, but so far Harrison had not seen the Family carry weapons either. Perhaps with the help of the Protev's crew...
    But no. When Harrison entered the bridge, he found everyone frozen. Literally frozen. Men and women rooted to their places as if by an unknown force. Harrison looked out at the room through the bridge's enormous frontal window. The Family members' eyes all blazed white as they stared fixedly at the ship. Harrison shuddered and moved on. He was halfway down a hallway when he heard a scuffling sound outside of a door. He paused, making sure he had heard correctly. Yes, there was a noise coming from the inside of this sleeping quarters. Harrison checked the name lasered into the wall beside the door. There was none. That meant that several crewmen slept here. Well, though Harrison, its better than nothing. He hesitated slightly, then pressed his thumb to the door pad, unlocking it.
    The door swung open, and something hit him in the face.
    Harrison fell backwards with a curse. Stars swam in front of his vision as he heard a young man's voice call out, "Oh, sorry sir! I thought...never mind that! I'm so sorry sir, is there anything I can do?"
    Harrison shook his head to clear his vision. An anxious youth met his eyes, hovering uncertainly near him. In his hand was a large frying pan. A cook, perhaps?
    "What the hell are you doing, son?" Harrison managed to croak out. That boy had an arm!
    "I...the crew suddenly froze, captain! I was with Miss Hawken at the time, and--"
    "Hawken?" Harrison interrupted. "Lutrice Hawken?"
    "The boy nodded. "Yes sir, and--"
    "Take me to her." Harrison grabbed the boy by the scruff of the neck and threw him into the hallway. "Now."

---------------------------

    They entered the Protev's medical bay.
    "Lutrice is here?" Harrison whispered. Why was he whispering? There was something to the room, the slow hum of machinery seemed so much louder with the total silence aboard the ship. Through another porthole, Harrison made out the dim shapes of the Family members, their eyes glowing fiercely. How long had he been in the ship, fifteen minutes?
    The boy nodded in confirmation. "Yes sir, she's just around the corner."
    Harrison followed the boy to a bed hovering slightly off the floor. In the bed was a woman. And in the woman's eyes was stark terror.
    No, not terror, Harrison thought. This woman is crazy.
    "Can you hear them?" She moaned as Harrison moved closer to her. "Ohh, I can hear them. Whispering to me...they want me to come to them. You won't let them take me, will you?"
    Harrison shook his head, speechless and slightly frightened by the woman's manner. Was she talking about the Family? How did she know they wanted her?
    "When did she...start acting like this?" Harrison asked the boy, who had indeed turned out to be one of the cook's sons.
    "The day we arrived here, sir," the boy hesitated. "No, it was the moment we touched ground down here, sir. I remember. I was handing out dinner to her and all of a sudden there was a shudder in the ship as it settled against the ground, and poor Lutrice here, she up and threw her meal all over me, screaming. After several hours she died down and then...she was like this. Since then."
    "Muttering about how they wanted to get her?"
    "Yes, sir.." the boy hesitated again. "You won't give her to them, whoever they are, will you sir? I know she must be crazy and all but...will you promise me you won't hand her over?"
    "Help me get her to her feet," Harrison said, getting an arm around the woman.
    Strangely enough, the woman put up no fight. She muttered softly to herself and petted the hair of the young cook, who smiled worriedly at her. Harrison wondered if at one point the two had been in a relationship. True, the woman was a little old for the boy but...
    "Help me move her," Harrison said roughly. It had been nearly twenty minutes since he had entered the ship. What would the Family members do to his diplomats if he failed to show?
    Together they managed to half carry, half drag the terrified woman to the air lock before the ships' ramp.
    "Sir..." The boy said hesitantly.
    "Yes, son?" Answered Harrison absentmindedly. He was preoccupied with the coming confrontation. What would Portugal do when he handed over the woman? Would he hand over Lutrice? Out of the corner of his eye he saw the frying pan arcing towards him.
    Harrison ducked and the frying pan missed his head by inches. The boy cursed.
    "What the hell do you think you're doing, son!" Harrison yelled. He dove away from the boy as the frying pan came around for another pass.
    "You were going to turn her over!" The boy screamed, crying. "You were going to give her to them! You can't do that!"
    Harrison ran his hand through his hair. He had taken shelter behind a set of controls in the middle of the room, and was for the moment outside of swinging range. Harrison sighed.
    "Son, I'm only going to ask you once. Drop the frying pan and move over to the wall!"
    The boy sobbed. "Never! I'll never let you give her to them!"
    Harrison unsnapped his pistol and raised it to his shoulder. A sight popped out and zeroed in on the boy's hand.
    "Please, son, don't make me do this!"
    "You can't give her to them!"
    Harrison fired. The boy screamed as the bullet tore through his hand and spun him to the ground. Harrison walked up to him and hit him in the head with the butt of his gun. The boy stopped screaming as he fell unconscious. Harrison rummaged in a corner until he found a med pack, and took out what he needed. He applied a bandage to the boy's ruined hand, which contained something in its adhesive parts that stopped the bleeding and cauterized the wound. He then took out a pair of electric handcuffs and cuffed the boy, attaching the cuffs to the wall of the bridge. The cuffs hummed gently as they latched onto the smooth surface. The boy wouldn't be going anywhere until Harrison was ready to deal with him. He gathered the woman in his arms, as she had fainted during the gun shot, and walked out to meet Portugal and the Family members.
    Lutrice froze the moment she laid her eyes on Portugal Gibbings. No! Her mind screamed, but her mouth was frozen. She could only look helplessly at Harrison as Portugal moved swiftly in and took the woman from his arms.
    "Calm yourself, sister," Portugal murmured, his eyes a solid white. To Harrison's disbelief, Lutrice calmed at the touch of the Family member and her breathing regulated. She smiled dreamily up at him, and then fell asleep.
    "Take her," Portugal said, motioning to two of the Family members lining the cavern walls.
    They moved in, one taking Lutrice's legs, and the other grasping her upper body. They left the cavern.
    "Now," said Portugal, turning his glowing eyes on Harrison. "You will tell your leaders that we declined their offer. Nothing more. You will go wherever you want, I do not really care. But neither you nor your people will ever come back here. Is this understood?"
    Harrison nodded, his whole body shaking. What else was he supposed to do?
The corners of Portugal's mouth twitched in a smile.
    "Good," he said, and swept his hand across Harrison's face in the same way he did to Lutrice. Harrison's vision swam, and darkness came only a moment later.

---------------------------

    When Harrison woke again, he was lying on the floor of his Protev frigate. He started, looking around with wild eyes. Had that all been only a dream? Nothing more than a horrible, terrible dream? But no, it was not to be. There was a haunted look in his men, a common stamp of fear across their faces. And attached to the wall was the cook's boy, his arms chained together. Harrison rubbed at his eyes with his hands. Why did these things happen to him? His men were looking at him questioningly.
    "Get the Council on the phone," Harrison ordered, standing. "Tell them its urgent."

That is some great stuff guy !!!  Sounds like you could make a book out of all this !!  KEEP IT COMING !!

Those damn Advent always reminded me of those freaks from one of the Planet of the Apes movies ha.

I never knew about that karma thingy, but just tried to give you some, great story.

Chapter 3, part 2
Psion

The Trader Emergency Coalition

1,000 years ago, galactic position 5694, 1359
star christened "Tauris"

    "I want you to listen to me very carefully, son," Councilman Whitejack barked. "I want you as far away from the star-blighted planet as fast as your little engines can run. Continue on your original route to Lusitania. We explained your delay by saying you had engine trouble. You can use the time it takes you to complete the trip to figure out a more detailed excuse. Do not tell them what you found on planet X-4. They are not part of the Order yet."
    "Councilman," Harrison protested, but Whitejack cut him off.
    "You will follow these orders to the best of your ability and leave the inhabitants of planet X-4 to our special team."
    "What special team, Councilman?"
    "Now that's not really a concern of yours, is it? But if you must know, we are putting together a special task force of elite combative diplomats. No offense to you and your oh-so-wonderful diplo-team Lieutenant, but these are the best of the best. In combat and in diplomacy. If these people can't get the Family to see reason and return that women, no one can."
    "Lutrice Hawken." Harrison swallowed. "Her name was Lutrice Hawken."
    "Right, that one. Do you still have her son locked up on your ship?"
    "Her...son?"
    "You didn't know? He's the kid who wasn't frozen like the rest of the ship in your report. Whatever they did, it could be DNA-oriented, which is why the boy and his mother were both unfrozen." Whitejack sounded tired. "Frankly, we have no idea what they did. It's beyond anything we've ever seen before."
    Harrison kept quiet.
    "Well you have your orders. Continue to Lusitania and establish diplomatic relations. Show me you can talk someone over to the Trade Order."
    "Yes, Councilman. Permission to disconnect?"
    "Son you've had my permission to hang up the moment your report drove me out of bed at 03:00 this morning. Dismissed."
    Harrison disconnected himself from the ship's ansible and leaned back into his chair. He massaged the muscles in his face and sighed. Then he got up to relay the order to the bridge.

1,000 years ago, aboard Protev colony frigate product number 022018438
nicknamed "Storm"

    Richard Franklins gazed out of the misted viewport in his cabin. Blues of every shade streamed past, together forming what scientists called phase space. Richard thought it was beautiful. His society had long been interested in the particulars of phase space. Scientists thought about how to manipulate it; Richard thought about how it came to be. How it originated. That was when the society found him. He was asking questions the Trade Order didn't want to answer, and the society came to him and took him away before Trader assassins ransacked his apartment. It made headline news for a few weeks; it was the first act of violence in over thirty years. But Richard knew better. The Trade Order, at least the heads of the Trade Order, had never given up on humanity's warlike nature as the general mass had believed during the beginning of the Golden Age. They just brought their battles indoors, so to speak. They took them under the radar. But Richard had poked too far, he had pinched the wrong people, and they had reacted strongly. So strongly that they attacked his apartment in hope that they would catch him in it. The assassins would go on trial and die, but Richard would have been dead as well. They would have succeeded too, if it hadn't been for the society.
    Richard owed them his life.
    And now...now he was experiencing the magic of the universe, first hand. He was experiencing Psion, the element that sparked the creation of the Universe and everything inside it. Scientists believed an interaction between phase space and antimatter created a sort of tear into a kind of warped space where space and time was very, very different. Richard and his society knew phase space was not a cause. It was the effect. They dedicated their lives to understanding the real cause. Psion. Richard stared again through the hazy viewport. He rubbed at it with his sleeve to clear the image. He wanted to gaze at it forever! He wanted to call in the other members of his society that was also on board this ship headed to the planet X-4 in the Tauris system. He wanted to pull on his thick purple robes and feel the roughness of the runes stitched into it, to feel the golden tasseled rope snug around his waist, the hood hanging limp across his back. He itched to return to his society and be involved in the ceremonies no doubt being performed right at this moment. But no matter. His group had been selected for a very important task, and that task was to get to planet X-4. They were to collect Psion readings from the system and report back to the society for more orders. They were hunting the Foremost, the original species in the Universe, the wielders of Psion. For if Psion created the universe, and it did, then the wielders of Psion were the actual creators of the universe. The "Gods" of the mythical Earth Richard had read about in fairy tales as a child. This frigate was going past the fringes of Trader-colonized space and heading out far beyond, beyond even the new frontier planned for the coming decade. This would be the farthest Traders would be flying for many years, and the Society for Higher Minded Individuals wanted more data.
    Richard looked out the viewpoint as the colors swirled past, fascinated. He could hardly wait to take the first reading.

I like where this is going !! haha, always bothered me that a bunch of females ran the advent, however powerfull thier mind control abilities were...  These stories are great, keep them coming !!

Maybe the Giterna will help thier fellow human ancestors, the TEC !!!!

Nice job dude! interesting...

That was kick ass!

nope sorry, the Giterna formed because they didn't like how the Advent was preparing to kill the TEC. They still want to kill them, they just wanna do it their way. so no Advent+TEC team, sry

actually thats wat i started this story for. to make a book outa it. its never gonna be a real book i guess, unless the ironclad guys ask me to (plz?) but im working on another story, no connection to sins, which im pretty far into (100 something pages) and im hoping to get a publisher for that as soon as its done.  so if u no any good ones....ha. new chapter coming up.

Chapter 3, part 3
Miscalculation

The Trader Emergency Coalition

1,000 years ago, aboard Protev colony frigate product number 022018438
nicknamed "Storm"

    Richard Franklins rose from where he had been kneeling on the floor when his door buzzed. He knew who it was, so he was not angry that he had been interrupted during his devotions. He tapped a finger to the middle of the door so it would project a miniaturized hologram of the person waiting outside, just to be safe. It was Stephanie, just as Richard had thought. He quickly unbolted the door and tugged her inside.
    "How are you?" He asked, plopping down on his small cot. Stephanie sat beside him. Her eyes sparkled as she looked out at the blue luminescence of phase space.
    "Its beautiful," she whispered in amazement, "its incredible...to think that we will someday meet the creators of such miracles...it is beyond words."
    Richard nodded in contentment. She must have just come from her devotions as well. Richard leaned over and cupped Stephanie's chin with his hand.
    "Are you ready to begin?"
    She tilted her head and sucked seductively on his forefinger, nibbling it as she let out a throaty laugh. "I'm always ready, Richard."
    "You always are." Richard stood and motioned Stephanie to the door. "I'd love to have you stay longer, but if you are ready you had better begin straight away. We don't have much time before you must win him over."
    Stephanie parted her lips in what most people would think was a seductive smile, but Richard knew her better. She was showing off her fangs, so to speak.
    "It won't take me long, love. If you need me, I'll be with the captain."
    She swayed out of Richard's room and down the hall toward the bridge. Richard watched her go for a while before shutting his door and kneeling back down to finish his devotions, but his mind drifted. Stephanie Willcock. Richard smiled as images appeared in his mind's eye. Stephanie was a loyal member of the Society--she had been there before even Richard arrived. Stephanie was one of the Society's temptresses. The Society had many of these women whom it used to get others to do its bidding, but Stephanie was the best. This was a very important mission, and as head of this mission Richard was not going to take any chances. He could not let himself fail. His mission was too important to fail. If he found no trace evidence of Psion on this new planet...
    No, he wouldn't think of such things. Besides, he needed to finish his devotions. And he would do it properly to make up for all the time he had wasted. Richard rose and went to his closet, feeling around in the back for the silky purple robes that he knew were there. He found them, and drew them out. He caressed the golden runes etched in shimmering spirals down the length of the robe, and reverently picked up the golden tasseled rope that would tighten the robe around his stomach. He carefully pulled it on, sighing in relief when he felt the buzz of Psion settle around him. Inside his robe, he was at peace. He didn't know exactly what made it work, but somehow the runes etched into the fabric used a form of Psion to bring a sense of calmness upon those who wore it, along with a sense of utter bliss. It was rapture to wear the robe, and agony to be without it. Moaning in pleasure, Richard once again sank to his knees. This time no other thoughts interrupted his most fervent devotions to the Foremost.
   
---------------------------

    Major Lee Hastings scowled as he looked over his ship's charted course. They had five minutes left until they phased out at the yellow star Tauris, at which point the Protev's main engines would begin to charge and the ship would rumble out to the gravity well's edge and begin its much shorter phase jump to planet X-4, where the hostiles were located. He rubbed the stubble on his chin, thinking hard. The engines on the Protev were too old; they were beginning to fail. Hastings could postpone the ship's course to the edge of the gravity well for forty minutes so the engine crew could run a full diagnostic scan, but Councilman Whitejack would probably have Hastings' head in a fruit mixer for the delay, no matter what argument Hastings presented. Mooncakes, there was no way out of it!
    "Mr. Captain?"
    Hastings turned at the sound of a feminine voice, and inhaled a sweet fragrance. His mouth dropped. The most beautiful woman in the Trade Order stood in front of him, her hips swaying as she moved towards him. She stopped only when another step would mean walking on top of him. The woman looked up and smiled at Hastings, and oh, what a dazzling smile it was!
    "My name is Stephanie, Mr. Captain. Can you help me with something?"
    Hastings found his mouth wasn't working. He wet his lips and coughed hoarsely before responding. "Ye..yes, of course. Anything."
    The woman, Stephanie, let out a girlish giggle. "Well, its kind of silly, don't you see. The lights are out in my room and nothing I do can turn them on. Surely you can help me with this?"
    "You want me to go to your room?" Hastings heard himself say. He gave himself a mental shake. What was he doing! The woman was doing something to his mind...
    Stephanie giggled again. "Yes, Mr. Captain, that is what I'm asking."
    "Well...I'm sure I can ask one of the Crewmen to take care of that...seems like just a power failure..." Fight it! Hastings told himself. But this was a battle that he could not win.
    Stephanie pressed up against him. Hastings shivered at the feel of her body against his.
    "Oh, but I would really love for you to do it, Mr. Captain! Oh, won't you say you will?"
    Hastings was dimly aware of the incredulous faces of the bridge crew around him as he led the dazzling woman from the bridge, her arm wrapped around his. He turned only slightly to shut the bridge doors behind him, then wrapped his arms around the woman and breathed in the sweet fragrance of her body. Stephanie put her hands on his chest.
    "Please, Captain, I don't think I can wait too much longer. Let's go to my room."
    "What room was that?" Hastings asked her distractedly as one hand trailed down her back.
    Stephanie let out a low moan as his hands explored her body. "Let me show you, Captain."
    "My names Lee," Hastings said gently, "Lee Hastings. I'm sorry, but I can't remember why you're on my ship. What's your role on planet X-4?"
    Stephanie took his arm and tugged him down the hallway. "There will be time enough for these sorts of questions later, Lee!"
    Hastings inhaled the sweet smell of her perfume once more. Then he shoved her up against the wall and put a hand around her throat.
    "Sorry," Hastings growled, "but this really is the time for these sorts of questions. There were no woman assigned to this mission. I'm going to ask you again, politely, and I would advise you to answer me this time. What are you doing on my ship!"
    Stephanie choked as Hastings increased pressure on her windpipe.
    Hastings eased up on the pressure. "Now talk."
    Stephanie's eyes were full of tears. "I...I saw you at the space dock...you...you looked so handsome...I just wanted to get to know you!" She burst into tears.
    Hastings let go of Stephanie and she collapsed onto the ground, sobbing.
    "Get up," Hastings ordered, and pulled her up when Stephanie didn't immediately comply. "That has to be the dumbest story I have ever heard. Do you really think I'd fall for that? Come with me, we're going to have a talk with a special friend of mine."
    Stephanie wiped the tears from her face. She was not crying any longer.
    "What friend?" She asked in a tone that demanded an answer.
    Hastings chuckled. "No more crying? I thought not. Specifically, my "friend" is really a room. And this room does some very special things for me.
    "You see, this frigate is never used in ordinary diplomatic missions. They call us in when there's a real shit storm going down, and the Storm is needed to calm it down...or blow it away. Every diplomat I carry on this ship of mine can dismantle a rifle faster than you could shoot someone, and every single one of them is merciless. No matter what kind of situation it is, when we show up, diplomacy ends. We usually take one or two of the hostile force's diplomats, or whatever is sent out to greet us, and we bring them to this room I am about to show you. In this room we get all of our questions answered, and we enjoy the methods used to retrieve those answers almost as much as they like killing themselves when we're done with them to end the pain. You see, this room of mine is a torture chamber, and I have no limit of willing hands to get the answers I want. I have to go back to the bridge in a few minutes and give a couple of orders. That means that I'll have just enough time to strap you in before someone else takes over. We take shifts, so you never fall asleep or enjoy a moment without pain. Even if its only slapping you in the face, you are never without some form of pain. Even when we get all the answers we need, you are still not allowed a moment of rest. The only thing that changes after we get our answers is a knife in your hand, aimed at your heart, to use whenever you wish. And believe me sweetheart, they always end the pain. As soon as they grip their escape they are plunging it into themselves, and you will do the same. I'm telling you this so that I will get the most enjoyment possible out of our coming discussions, because now you will try to lie to me. Now that you know that there is no escape, even in telling the truth, you will lie to me and try to get me to kill you in my work. But I promise you that you will not die by my hand. I will get the answers I want from you, and then it will be by your hand that you die. That is also a promise. Do you have any questions so far, sweetheart? No? Good, because we're here."
    Hastings swung open a hatch to reveal darkness. He flicked a couple of switches on the wall and small parts of the room flickered into view. An elongated table with straps for arms and legs and needles hanging down from somewhere above, slowly dripping onto the dark blood stains on the floor. A pillar with straps to go around the hands and feet, spikes jutting out of it on several levels. A thinner, smooth pole with similar restraints, but with a red toolbox lying on a table nearby. Stephanie didn't want to guess what was in the toolbox, but her mind raced madly over possibilities. How could things have gone so terribly wrong! No one had ever overcome the influence of her perfume, a normal mixture with the special addition of liquidated Psion. It made men's minds go to mush, and thoughts of her body to run amok in them. How did this captain overcome that! But then he was dragging her towards the spiky pole, and Stephanie began to scream. Oh moonstones, she had miscalculated. She had made a terrible, terrible mistake.

Love the stories, keep them coming.

Have you ever thought about actually writing a novel out of all this. You have the skills to.

This is sad, write your own stories, not someone elses...write your dreams not something that already exists....

I am 73 pages into a book I'm writing. I have another completed but I went out of order because I never anticipated writing a book series.

Write your own book. Change the names, places, and forum and write your own book. My advice.

Come on guys give him some uber Karma! 

This is good stuff!