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Voices of WarEdit



I am the heart of the Confederation.
A servant of peace ...
A deliverer of freedom ...
A guardian of worlds ...
As I pave the road to victory
I shall not fear the enemy
For he cannot conquer justice.
As I light the righteous fire of peace
I shall hold life sacred
For it is my duty to rise against evil.
In my comrades I do trust
For we are one anothers’ eyes.
Even in the face of death
We wear our rank in faith
That justice will right all wrongs.

My heart does not know fear
For I am a servant to Sivar.
My claws do not know shame
For I am a warrior of Kilrah.
My Clan shall not be disgraced
For I serve my Hrai and Lord.
With my tongue I offer fealty.
With my claws I unsheathe victory.
With my mane bowed I lie down.
And offer up my life for honor.


The home planet of the Kilrah culture is nestled
within the Orion arm of the Milky Way; a yearand-
a-half’s travel from the Terran base of
Earth. The Kilrathi have possessed interstellar
flight knowledge for the last century, using that
development to conquer hundreds of planets in
outlying sectors. Though they encountered
several other life forms, none could compete
with their scientific knowledge – until they ran
into a Terran exploration party in 2634.
The Terrans, likewise, had befriended several
nearby worlds and quickly assimilated them
into the Confederation. All were advanced, but
none possessed technology that could rival that
of Earth’s. Since the Terrans and Kilrathi had
experienced wars between their own people in
past centuries, the tools for interstellar war
were already in place by the time the two
races crossed paths in 2629. With a new
outlet for frustration and hatred, each side
rapidly unified after the first few encounters.
Now after almost thirty years of continuous
war, the Terrans and Kilrathi have arrived
at a stalemate, with the Kilrathi gaining slight
advantages in sectors with tactical jump
locations. Still, this desperate fight pits
humanity against honor and survival,
compassion against the deliverance of justice.
�������� (Note that Kilrah uses base 8)
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While establishing footholds in the recently explored Krat’na Sector,
the destroyer K’rath’kan detects an intruder. Leader Brath’kar nar
Caxki reports that the unidentified ship is attempting to neutralize his
shields with wide-band radiation. When the enemy fails to leave the
area of trespass after three-eighths of an hour, the destroyer opens its
guns to eliminate the threatening vessel.
��������
The Terran Confederation expands exploration and colonization
efforts and penetrates Vega Sector. On 2629.105 (March 16, 2629
Terran time) the Iason encounters a spacecraft of unknown origin.
Commander Jedora Andropolos transmits an international wideband,
non-verbal greeting designed by the Committee for
Interaction with Alien Intelligences.
Andropolos keeps Iason’s guns off-line for the TCN-recommended
20 minutes and awaits a response from the alien vessel. Finally,
without warning, the unidentified ship opens fire with full lasers,
utterly destroying Iason and all hands.
——————

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Encounters with the unknown race continue as exploration ships cross
normal Kilrathi patrol routes. Vessels are noted to have external firing
weapons and are attacked on sight to prevent further penetration into
Kilrathi territory. Captured debris indicates that the ships originate
from the “Terran Confederation.”
After drones radio back images of a colonized planet 3 trillion eights
starward of Kilrah, the Emperor decrees that Kilrathi forces are to search
out and eliminate this strategic colony. The Imperial military draws up
plans for a massive attack on the colony and its orbital space station.
When the attack commences, resistance is greater than expected –
three carriers and many eights.of fighter-craft. It appears that the
� �
enemy’s technology parallels Kilrah’s knowledge of spacecraft and
inter-sector jump mechanisms. For four days, the Kilrathi battle the
Terran forces into retreat, then return victoriously to Kilrah. Leaders
predict that forces will conquer the alien race in seven moons.
��    

On 2634.186, the Terran Confederation officially declares war on
the Empire of Kilrah for committing countless acts of piracy and
unwarranted assault.
On 2634.228, TCN cryptographer Ches M. Penney partially
decodes a stray Kilrathi cipher. The intercepted message implies
that a strike will be launched soon against a Confederation colony
on McAuliffe, then on its orbiting space station Alexandria.
Confederation High command orders a counteroffensive twice the
size of the anticipated fleet, hoping to reach McAuliffe first and
ambush the attackers.
On 2634.235, the Kilrathi fleet invades McAuliffe’s territory. It is
quadruple the expected size (the incomplete translation
underestimated the size of the offensive fleet). So begins
the McAuliffe Ambush engagement.
In several days of bloody combat, a well-armed Kilrathi force all
but obliterates the Terran fleet. The still-sizable force of functional
Kilrathi spacecraft, momentarily daunted by Terran resistance, turn
back to regroup. The first large-scale Terran-Kilrathi engagement
ends with the Kilrathi spearhead momentarily broken.
——————

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Thrakhath’s forces successfully invade and occupy McAuliffe, a
colonized Terran world abundant in metal resources and convenient
to Kilrah’s jump points. Upon claiming the planet, warriors take
countless captives to prevent reciprocative attacks by the
Confederation. (Leaders have concluded that the race follows a
religious belief that values individual lives.)
A concentrated attack force battles the Kilrathi fleet, led by a
surprisingly light squadron of heavy-class fighters bearing small,
stationary devices. The engagement turns bitter for Kilrathi troops as
invading fighters release static explosives, apparently mines of some
sort. An undetermined number of Terran ships bolster the enemy fleet,
arriving through a jump point corresponding to the middle of the
battlefield. After a heated fight, the enemy fleet limps back into Terran
territory. Losses for the enemy number several eights.
��     �
On 2639.033, Kilrathi occupation forces land on the humanoccupied
world of McAuliffe. Invading troops hold a quarter of a
million humans hostage under orbital guns and await Terran
reprisals. This triggers the McAuliffe Ambush engagement, a
tactical situation complicated by the presence of hostages.
The Confederation implements Phase One of the ambush, bringing
in an attack force against the Kilrathi fleet. The attack force
consists principally of Raptor-class heavy fighters reconfigured to
carry extra Porcupine Space Mines and practically no missiles.
Phase One forces drop their mines in one region of space near
McAuliffe and engage the enemy. Kilrathi ships evade the mined
region and concentrate on destroying the small fighter entourage.
When Kilrathi navigators realize that the mined region
corresponds to a principal.McAuliffe jump point, it is too late:
Phase Two has begun. A single radio signal detonates all the
specially modified Porcupines mines. Moments later, the rest of
the Terran fleet arrives through the jump point, making its first
strike against the gunships threatening the human colonies. The
enemy ships are destroyed, with minimal loss of life among the
colonists. After a pounding match, the McAuliffe Ambush ends
with the Kilrathi in retreat. Casualties are nearly identical between
the two fleets, but the Kilrathi have been successfully pushed
from this strategic position.
——————
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Imperial troops continue to push into Krat’na Sector, ferrying in
supplies and troops to launch offensives on occupied worlds. Terran
invasion forces launch a strike against Kr’azna colony, but are
immediately repelled by nearby Kilrathi fighter support. The intruding
ships are pushed back to the Terran boundary line, while Kilrathi forces
easily cripple the carrier Tiger’s Claw and its complement of fighters.
��

Terran ground forces launch an attack on a fortified Kilrathi
colony, only to be routed by unexpected Kilrathi fighter-craft
support. The Terrans quickly reform and turn back, their lightly
armed transports chased by heavy Kilrathi warships. The TCS
Tiger’s Claw is detached from its previous station and assigned to
intercept the pursuing ships in a delaying action eventually
referred to as Custer’s Carnival.
Though swarmed and badly damaged by Kilrathi fighters, the
carrier distracts Kilrathi forces long enough to allow the Terran
fleet to reach safety. The Claw makes it back into Terran space,
even with three-quarters of its engines destroyed and half its pilots
listed as casualties.
——————
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The Kilrathi Imperial Command deploys supply and colonization
vessels to nearby worlds to enslave the Mopoks to the Kilrathi war
effort. A new Imperial starbase is built for use as a central command
post for Kilrathi movements in surrounding sectors. The Terrans
eventually locate the starbase, for which the base’s Security
Commander is executed as a traitor. After a prolonged battle with the
Terrans, the Emperor orders the command relocated to Kilrah.
���
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Terran Intelligence reports that the Kilrathi High command is
directing war efforts from Venice System. Reconnaissance patrols
identify Kilrathi ships and follow patrols, uncovering the Imperial
starbase weeks later. The Kilrathi launch a significant resistance
that is eventually overpowered by missiles fired from swarming
fighters. Badly beaten, the Kilrathi are forced to retreat their
central command to Kilrah.
——————
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Pending a new development in weapon technology, a site is chosen to
spot-test the military’s new atomic proton-accelerator gun. After
magnetically buffering all radio waves to isolate the selected planet,
life-removal experiments prove successful. Terran forces arrive too late
to stop testing and are lured into an ambush with the captured
Confederation ship Gwenhyvar.
Survivors of the enemy fleet, however, search out and incapacitate the
dreadnought Sivar and its.deadly weapon. For this failure, the Admiral
of the ill-fated fleet pays the ultimate repentance and is executed in
the presence of his father, the Kilrathi Emperor. With the Admiral’s
death, Prince Thrakhath becomes heir to the throne of Kilrah.
���
�     ��
Tiger’s Claw receives the message that all radio contact has been lost
with Goddard Colony. Intelligence suspects the Kilrathi possess a
new super-weapon that they plan to use against the inhabited planet.
Rushing to the rescue, fighter wings from Tiger’s Claw forge a path
for transports and corvettes, only to discover that a quarter-million
human lives have already been sacrificed by the Kilrathi.
The Claw pursues the Kilrathi into enemy territory, only to be
ambushed by a captured Confederation Exeter-class ship. After
escaping immediate danger, reconnaissance ships locate a
dreadnought ship suspected of carrying the prototype superweapon.
The Claw succeeds in eliminating this Sivar dreadnought.
——————

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Battle fleets and war priestesses plan the annual Sivar-Eshrad
ceremony honoring the war-god Sivar, which is to take place in
Firekka System. The sacrificial event, however, is disrupted after the
captain of the Ras’Nik’hra is captured by the Terrans and tortured to
reveal the location of the ceremony. The Kilrathi Imperial Guard
pushes the enemy out-system after Prince Thrakhath deems the
Firekkans unworthy of destruction.
���    
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The Confederation pledges to protect a newly discovered race, the
Firekkans, who plan to unite with the Terran alliance. A huge
Kilrathi battle fleet moves into the system, led by the fearsome
Prince Thrakhath and his Drakhai (Kilrathi Imperial Guard). The
fleet’s intent is unknown until the Kilrathi defector Ralgha exposes
a plan to use Firekka as a location for a strange alien religious
ritual in which warriors rededicate themselves to Sivar, the Kilrathi
god of war.
Confederate forces decide on a desperate plan to damage enemy
morale by disrupting the religious ceremony. Marine troopships
jump into the system and land on the planet to stage the assault on
the Kilrathi priestesses. When the mission succeeds, the Claw
retreats back to Terran-controlled space, closely pursued by
Kilrathi ships. As the Claw escapes, the Firekkan natives revolt
and force the Kilrathi to withdraw.
——————

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Prince Thrakhath orders advances in Enigma Sector in order to gain
control of jump-points leading to the Terran worlds. One Kilrathi planet
in the Ghorah Khar system, also known as Ghorah Khar, falls under
Terran rule. This angers Thrakhath and his leaders, who then order
retaliatory strikes against the colonies there to eliminate any surviving
cowards.

In the following moons, the Terrans lose many eights of ships in Enigma
Sector, failing to dislodge the Imperial presence and the headquarters at
K’Tithrak Mang. After an eight of sun years, Thrakhath ceases the attacks
on Ghorah Khar and relocates the Imperial headquarters to a hidden
location outside Enigma Sector. About the same time, spacecraft research
culminates in the production of stealth fighter technology.
����
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Over the next 11 years, Confederation forces attempt to remove the
Kilrathi from Enigma Sector. The fight for this area is critical –
failure means giving the Kilrathi strategic jump nodes throughout
Enigma that lead directly to the human homeworlds.
The first attack on the headquarters at K’Tithrak Mang falls short,
but Confederation forces are able to successfully defend Olympus
Station (the human starbase established for the rebel Kilrathi world
of Ghorah Khar) from Imperial Kilrathi assault. As the extended
battle for the Enigma Sector continues, forces make a daring jump
behind enemy lines to destroy the Kilrathi sector headquarters of
K’Tithrak Mang, the same mission that finally destroys the
renowned Tiger’s Claw.
——————

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Having concentrated efforts elsewhere for several sun years, Kilrathi
forces once more strongarm their way into vital jump points that lead
to the human homeworlds. This time, the attacks are concentrated on
Pembroke Station, the gateway system between Enigma and Vega
Sectors. To divert Terran forces, Prince Thrakhath orders a retaliatory
attack on the rebel planet of Ghorah Khar.
In the next moon, Sivar tests Thrakhath’s skills as a leader by staging an
assassination attempt and giving him over to the Terrans. The Prince
proves his worth by escaping with the help of spies and reassuming
rule over Kilrah. He commands one last attack on the Terran starbase
of Olympus and obliterates Ghorah Khar’s few remaining colonists.


����
Confederation forces successfully fend off a Kilrathi attack on
Pembroke Station, the gateway system between Enigma and Vega
Sectors. Then, forces attend to a mutiny aboard Rigel Supply
Depot, where mutineers split into two factions: Rigel pirates who
want to continue their piratical lifestyle, and the crew members
that want to return to the Confederation. The pirate ship is
eventually gunned down.
The Imperial Kilrathi make an unsuccessful attempt to quell
rebelling planets in the Ghorah Khar System. An Imperial leader
named Khasra then tries to assassinate Prince Thrakhath.
Thrakhath is captured and brought aboard the Bonnie Heather,
but escapes shortly after. Finally, a desperate attack against
Olympus Station in Ghorah Khar is thwarted, saving the rebel
Kilrathi planet.
——————

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The war is going well – in one-and-a-half sun years, Kilrathi forces
destroy seven escort carriers, two fleet carriers and twenty-four eights
of other capital ships. Even though the number of actual conflicts is
dropping to several per moon, the Terrans are resorting to coward’s
attacks on rear forces – supply vessels and transports.
Thrakhath and Baron Jugara, having foreseen the need for additional
ships, reveal the existence of a shipyard that is secretly producing a
new class of Hakaga carriers. An intricate plan emerges from a
meeting of the Imperial Kilrathi, who offer a false armistice of peace to
the foreign minister of the Terran Confederation. The remote shipyard
continues producing a carrier fleet to destroy the Terran homeworld.
Seven months later, Thrakhath implements the new carrier fleet and
launches a climactic attack on the Terrans, who are in the midst of
dismantling warships and weapon production facilities. The
homeworlds are expected to surrender after witnessing the total
destruction of three minor planets. Defense efforts against the Imperial
fleet are weak, allowing Kilrathi warheads to punch through to major
points of operation on Earth.


����
For twelve months, Terrans strike the Kilrathi forces hard,
eliminating nine carriers under construction. Running low on
combat ships, the military changes tactics and concentrates on
removing troop and supply vessels. To add to the destruction, they
cripple dozens of transports and four shipyards. The Kilrathi are
forced to retreat for supplies, thus weakening the front lines.
Just as the pendulum of war swings toward the Terrans, a peace
accord is surprisingly offered by Kilrah. All fleets are withdrawn
from the middle of an engagement to take Munro, a crucial system
possessing a jump line straight to Kilrah.
In the following months, several frontier colonies refuse to abide
by the armistice rulings, investing both forces and ships in an
attempt to search out suspected active shipyards on the far side of
the Kilrathi Empire. Using captured stealth equipment, private
forces intercept a HoloVid of the rumored facility, along with a
message that Kilrathi forces are embarking on a mission to attack
Earth. The armistice is renounced, and a force of still-intact
Confederation ships prepare to defend against the attack, bolstered
by private ships and carriers.
The first enemy hits result in total radiation-warhead destruction of
Warsaw, Gilead and Sirius Prime. Front-line Marines land on the
Imperial flagship carrier, with a select few suicidally placing and
detonating mines. They destroy three of the super-carriers, but the
remainder of the fleet reaches striking distance. The Kilrathi
successfully launch anti-matter rockets on crucial defense cities –
Chicago, Pittsburgh, Boston, Miami, Quebec, Berlin, Paris, Kiev
and others – then retreat to Kilrah.
——————


� � � � ��� ��� � �� � � �  �� � � ! " � � �
After the tense months leading up to the destruction of the secretly
produced Haraka carrier force, this last assignment was anticlimactic,
to say the least. The Concordia was growing rather
rickety after years of abuse, and she’d been placed on indefinite
patrol status, Code 4. What this translated into was running routine
“safe” sector patrols. So I did just that, flying sortie after sortie in
clear, open space. For eight months straight.
Now, as the Concordia rounds Damioyn, I gaze out the tiny
porthole in my bunk. A waning crescent moon dips behind the
thick clouds of this transfer planet, brightly lit off the starboard
hull. The rapidly approaching haze is a curious swirl of avocado
and cranberry, like nothing I’ve seen before. In a less than half an
hour, I’ll taste the first steak I’ve had in months. Showers, phones,
all the conveniences of real life on a real planet. Best of all, I’ll be
transferring home.
Packing up what few odds and ends I’ve collected, I begin to think
I might actually miss this old bird after all. There’s the brass wing
Shotglass gave me after K’Tithrak Mang. And the tall, thin
Firekkan chalice that my feathered friend K’Kai gifted me with
during her last stop-in. Finally, there’s the framed picture of the
crew’s last launch party. Friends hugging friends. Some friends
who never came back.
After I’m through packing, I zip my standard-issue duffle shut and
jog toward the decompression lounge. I wave goodbye to my
quarters and envision beaches, blondes, brunettes and banana
daiquiris. Not to mention a promotion or two.
TO: Clanmates of the Twenty-Third Vessel of the Imperial fleet
FROM: Baron M’rathtak nar Ragitagha
You are hereby ordered to the temple of Sivar in three eights of sun
shifts for your next hunt. Make your resolves with your blood-born
hrai and home clan, for the mission that awaits requires your highest
bidding of honor. The annual sacrifice to Sivar is not far off, and the
Prince himself has decreed that the twenty-third vessel will be our
final messenger to the Terrans.
After a feast honoring the war-god Sivar, you will jump into Terran
strongholds and prey on their military forces and homeworlds. This
will be your finest sacrifice and an eternal honor to your lair.
In return for your obedience, the Prince grants the offspring of each
member of the hunt partial blood of nobility. Upon entering the service,
young warriors will receive preferred appointments. Females will
likewise find privileged positions within Sivar’s temples.
Signed,
Jak’rav nar Caxki
Messenger of the Emperor
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
TrainSim Challenge
The Red Rangers of Squadron 23 have organized a
TrainSim flight challenge, slated for tomorrow at
1300 hours. Pilots and non-pilots are eligible to
participate, with semi-valuable prizes to be awarded
to the top three scorers. Rumor has it that the
prizes include platinum-plated wings, an autographed
Camden Payne poster, and a check for 1000 dols good
at any Confederation trading outpost.
If you need more information, contact 1st Lt. Merri
Lancaster by 1800. Following the usual daily
exercises, the TrainSim will be available to anyone
who wants to brush up on their combat skills.
Captain Dane McAllister has generously offered
hands-on training to anyone who personally delivers
to him a litre of Firekkan Fire liquor.
Remember, you must reply tonight to be eligible for
this competition.


As I hoist the honorary bowl of Vak’qu to my furred lips and drink, the
vivid images finally come. Precious, vivid images of odd black-andwhite
striped beasts without claws. Crackling, dry beds of camouflage
as footsteps pound out the final moments of the hunt. The final
twitches of a fresh kill secure in my jaws and reeking with the warm
red scent of blood.
Scenes like these are now rare on Kilrah, but the instinct of ages is
enough to drive the thrill of the hunt. Even Prince Thrakhath is caught
up in the moment as he spells out to us his plan to attack the Terran
homeworld of Earth.
“Stand tall, my mighty warriors, as I send you to accomplish what I
know to be the will of Sivar. By striking at the very heart of the
Confederation, we shall stand unopposed in our rightful expansion
into Terran sectors!
Clenching my muzzle in pride, I feel hot cheers rise all around me.
Someone shouts above the clamor, but I cannot make out the words
over the crowd’s roar. Over a dozen clans clutter the pilot’s rites
ceremony, each represented by a splendorous coat-of-arms. On my
own breast, I proudly boast the heavy red and gold shield of Kur’u’tak,
my home-clan.
The words of Thrakhath rouse more cheers from the growing temper
of agreement. As if to signal the occasion, an honorary transport
shuttle streaks in through the red western sky and lumbers to a slow
halt on a nearby launch platform.
One by one, my somber crewmates file onboard, the line dictated by
blood and rank. I offer a paw to my mate and hrai, and they in turn
touch my coat-of-arms for one last blessing. As I turn away, I flick my
mighty tail toward the kneeling masses in a gesture of pride. The
crowd’s clamor gives way to silent breathing when the airlock door
squeezes shut behind the last Kilrathi pilot. While the shuttle rises
above the temple city, I fall into deep thought and absorb what might
be my last glimpse of Kilrah.
� � � � ��� ��� � �� � � �  �� � � # "���
My leave was unexpectedly cut short yesterday, after a
Confederation courier hand-delivered sealed assignment papers.
Strange, since the navy ordinarily sends out electronic orders.
Expecting some podunk patrol assignment, I was confused even
further after reading them. All they said was to pack up and
register for the transport shuttle run to Goddard Transfer Station at
1850 hours. Instinct suggests a dangerous priority assignment,
length and type unknown. So much for my rest and relaxation…
Upon arriving, I meet General Sturdivan, a stern associate of my
old troublesome commander, Tolwyn. The solemn briefing seems
like a bad dream – I’m to tell the crew only that our ship is
performing a dangerous strike run. Sworn to secrecy, I’m whisked
off to Concourse 4, a tightly guarded isolation level. Equip crews
work around the clock to ready a new ship for flight, complete
with self-sufficient oxygen planetariums, water-producing modules
and greenhouse gardens. I’m to have the crew report to Goddard as
soon as possible.
Alone in my room, I send exactly 61 urgent e-mails on the red line.
DATE: 2669.011
PILOT: #TCN/SHIP-133B/CREW
SECURITY: Level II
STATEMENT OF SECRECY: This information is the sole
property of the Terran Confederation and is not to be
distributed publicly. The penalty for doing so, as
stated in the Terran Security Council Proceedings,
Section 1.32-A, will result in a fine of 25,000 dols
and no less than 36 months confinement in a military
holding facility.
MISSION ORDERS: Report for duty at Goddard Transfer
Station by 1700 hours, 2669.018. Return date not yet
determined, estimated to be 4 - 6 months.


To-day I hold my hrai close to my heart. Was it only two days ago that I
bowed to them and oathed to bring honor to my clan? It was a noble
gathering, with over a thousand-fold of Thrak’hra and Kilra’hra alike
gathering around the temple of Sivar. The Emperor himself spoke to the
clans and bestowed upon us numerous words of honor. My mate,
cousins and cublings I feasted on fine Firekkan roasts and drank of
Vak’qu. I can still hear the ringing yowls given by the crowd as I lifted
the sacred bowl to my jowls and passed it on to my mate and other hrai.
The jeweling to Leader of Arms also swells me with pride, for my
offspring now reserve the right to apply for privileged Imperial service
positions. Even my smallest cub, Rathka, dreams of accompanying his
father and assimilating the spirit of Sivar. He and my clan sacrifice
gifts in faith that our war-god will protect us from the enemy.
The hair on my mane stiffens at the dishonorable thought of ever
kneeling to lowly humans. I do not understand their ways of war; they
are of a lesser blood and scoff at our claims of superiority. The only
way to quell such rebels is to conquer them. There is only one human
we find not to be weak, a warrior whom we know as the Heart of the
Tiger. Being of thick blood and high stature, he alone stands worthy of
battling Prince Thrakhath. What would I not give to slit his throat and
hang him as my captured prey!
It is with much hope and spirit that I give my clawmark of honor. As
always, I depart with the humblest of hopes that I can rightfully bring
victory to Kilrah.
Mangkrah nar Caxki, Leader of Arms


� � � # "��!
As I feel the tug of artificial gravity on my gut, the carrier lifts off
the Transport Holding Deck and pushes through a thick cloud cover.
I bark out the usual go-aheads ... “Apply Gravity,” “Engage Main
Thrusters,” “Check Comm Network.” It feels strange to be issuing
the orders – I’m used to the hoarse roar of commanders past.
Stelkta, the main moon of Goddard, sails smoothly past the main
port window, immediately replaced by the streaming rays of an
ascending sun. The only sound I hear on the bridge is the heavy
hum of the twin engines as they de-thrust. I give the all-clear
signal, sending the crew scattering to the cafeteria, lounge and
recreational facilities. I don’t give them a chance to ask questions.
Making my way into the freshly furnished Commander’s Quarters,
I settle into a large, leathery chair. Now, where’s that blasted
security access card? I fish it out of my sleeve pocket, slide it into
the log station and apply the proper code sequence of numbers ...
LOGIN>> login victory/security1/emp185020957
PLEASE TYPE PASSWORD>> ********
IDENTIFIED: ENLISTEE #185020957, 2669.018>>
WELCOME. YOU HAVE (1) NEW MESSAGE TO READ.
TO ACTIVATE FILE, PRESS CONTINUE.
WARNING: THIS FILE WILL SELF-DELETE IN 8 MINUTES.
Commander,
I’m sorry our last meeting occurred under such extreme
circumstances. Our thoughts are with you as you embark
on this unselfish demonstration of loyalty. Attached,
you will find your official briefing. It’s no
different from what you were told earlier, but between
you and me – this is the first you’ve heard of it.
Good luck from those of us back home!
-Admiral Hancock


FROM: Sector Fleet Admiral Price Hancock
DATE 2669.016
PILOT: #185020957
RANK: Commander
SECURITY: Level I
STATEMENT OF SECRECY: This mission entails the
highest level of secrecy. You are to mention this
briefing to no one. Specifically, do not relay
details to the crew until you complete the final jump
sequence. The penalty for doing so is prescribed in
the Terran Security Council Proceedings, Section
1.32-A, and shall not amount to less than loss of
rank, a fine of 100,000 dols, and 10 years
confinement in a solitary prison.
MISSION ORDERS: You are to jump through Kilrathi jump
point KL-23 and proceed through uncharted territory.
You are to seek out and destroy all Kilrathi forces
you encounter. You are to locate and eliminate the
homeworld of Kilrah.
MISSION TERMINATION CONDITIONS: None. Due to your
position in uncharted territory, we cannot guarantee
a reverse-jump. No occurrence of medical conditions
or equipment failures shall warrant mission abortion
procedures. If resource levels become critical,
explore and mine suitable planets.
RETURN DATE: To be determined by mission success.
I watch the lines slowly melt from the phosphorous-green screen,
wondering how I’m going to tell the crew that we’ll probably
never go home again. Punching up the personal log, I reach for the
keys and begin to type ...
� � � � ��� ��� � �� � � �  �� � � # "��#
It’s a fine morning, 8 tense hours until we sneak into the Kilrathi
jump sphere and make our final jump. This by far is the most
delicate of assignments, the most risky, but mostly just insane.
Sixty-two men and women, eighteen ships, an almost selfsufficient
carrier. One last jump into who knows where.
The worst part about this mission is its secrecy. I was told to
instruct the crew only to report to Goddard colony station, nothing
more. I couldn’t tell my friends and family goodbye. I couldn’t
bring along all those sentimental items that make my home a home
… there just wasn’t enough room. Worst of all, now, is my
conscience – how can I tell the crew our final destination? They
don’t know that we’re essentially running a suicide mission. And
now, I have only myself and a mindless log computer to bear the
brunt of my words.
I’m still wondering why I accepted this assignment. I guess I took
it on for one reason. No, make that two. The first reason is Admiral
Price Hancock. Someone, wish I knew who, came up with the
bright idea of feeding a small force through a Kilrathi jump point
in hopes that it could penetrate the battle line and strike Kilrah. It
was Hancock who made the idea reality.
Why he wanted me to lead this run, I’ll never understand. Maybe
it’s my recklessness finally paying dues ... maybe Tolwyn just
wanted me out of the Confederation for good. It’s hard to turn
down an offer like that. Especially when you’ve got five stars and
eight ribbons staring you down, just waiting for the slightest
excuse to toss you out the nearest hatch.
The second reason I took on the mission is simple. I detest cats.
The damned cats have smoked over half our carrier force and
pushed our defense to its most.fragile limits. This war’s taken a
spin toward hell, with the Kilrathi gaining klicks on every starhold
we have. And if I can contribute to our success, by God, I will.
Maybe someone someday will tractor in the shrapnel of our ship,
then solemnly salute us as the Confederation’s last attempt to
penetrate the heart of Kilrah. Maybe someone somewhere will read
this. Like a fledgling moon loosed from an uncharted planet, so do
we head into the dark bowels of the universe...
��
“Jrath’kar, I do not understand the habits of our human captive. He
wants for food, but not of the flesh and Ak’rah leaves we give him. Are
the prey species not plant- and meat-eaters?” I watch as the odd, bare
breasted creature stirs in his cell, standing erect and desperately
uttering a string of peculiar syllables.
“I have noticed this also, Liege-lord,” my servant replies as he turns
toward the babbling form. “If not for Thrakhath’s orders, I would as
soon claw his throat as nourish him. What value does he find in
keeping this tuka, this low scum of humanity?”
“Do not question Thrakhath’s reasoning!” I rebuke him in a low growl,
my ears laid flat in disgusted anger. I see that my harsh outburst causes
the bristles on Jrath’kar’s mane to rise. Good, he should learn more
respect for his Emperor. Immediately, this inferior officer lowers his
haunches and falls prostrate to me. I am tempted to claw him, but I
restrain myself.
“The Prince wishes to make a public spectacle of this Terran. Morale
among the commoners has been lessened by recent setbacks on the
front lines, and the clans whisper of revolt. Perhaps if they tear apart a
human captive and feast upon its hot meat, they will unify once
again.” I would like to do so myself, were it not my Lord’s orders to
shuttle this cowardly human back to Kilrah.
“I apologize, my lord. If I may suggest, let us summon our Leader of
Tongues to communicate with the human.”
“Make it so, Jrath’kar.” As I send the chagrined officer off to find the
translator, I study the captive. “And what of you, shamed human? Do
you have a hrai? What would they say if they learned of your fate?”
It was, after all, a quirk of fate that had delivered this human to me.
The stranded pilot had run out of fuel, probably missing a jump
rendezvous with his mother ship, and drifted directly into the path of
my carrier. Towed in by beam, he had been unable to resist capture.
Yes, Thrakhath had been most pleased by this news. My left jowl
curling up in a slight smirk, I spin sharply on my hindpaws and leave
this miserable creature to his own thoughts.

Chief Ambassador Vladkomer Kirreman
Outpost ES-341
Terran Alliance, Enigma Sector
Dear Ambassador Kirreman:
Let me thank you for submitting your Resource
Allocation Statement to the Terran Council for
Planetary Resources (TCPR). Although your planet
presents a very favorable position within Enigma
Sector, we are unable to grant your shipyard
construction permit at this time.
As stated in the Galactic Trading Rights, Section
112-64.23, you have the right to know why your
application was denied. You will find these listed
below. If you feel this decision has been made in
error, you may appeal using Form GTR-A-123.
1. Your planetary resource samples show insufficient
amounts of materials to warrant a full-fledge mining
operation. The required percentages of necessary
elements break down as follows:
Element %Minable Resource rating (kg/meter)
Kormion .005% .5
Titanium 5% 9
Uranium .002% 1
Plutonium .008% .5
Nickel 20% 3
Aluminum 20% 4
TOTAL 45.015% 18
2. To support a shipyard, you must have a resource
rating of at least 20 and have a 100,000 meter
square area with non-violating terrain (no faults,
volcanoes, or major bodies of water). Terra
engineers report that the upper crust of the
asthenosphere measures 314 degrees centigrade,
ruling out any possibility of mantle drilling for
heavier elements.
��
However, we have a compromise offer concerning your
Titanium resources. For normal trading compensation,
you can contribute 4% of your available stock (3.6
kg/minable meter) to a top-secret war effort. I
cannot reveal the details of the mission. Should you
choose to sell your Titanium, an unnamed ship will
dock on your planet for final fueling at
approximately 1300 hours on 2669.120. Please have all
sources mined and readied for transport on this date.
Once again, I thank you for your generous offer to
join the mining planets of the Terran Confederation.
We hope to work with you in the future.
Sincerely,
Alynna Marbro
Resource Manager
E-Mail Address: #TCN/RESOURCE/142135234
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
M’rathka, I leave our den in good faith, confident that we will at last
conquer the Terrans. Though I hail from lesser blood, it is my glorious
destiny to fight toward this purpose. Sivar the war god has given me
signs in dreams and hails our efforts.
I dreamt that we all died bravely, our fighters and carrier sucked into
the explosion of their precious homeplanet Earth. Their solar system
echoed with screams of defeat, then we were all lifted into the stars
and caused new points of light to appear in a new constellation
measuring fourteen hundred eights long from Kilrah.
Worry not, M’rathka. I have left instructions with our oldest cubling to
assume my clan duties. Instead of mourning my departure, honor me
at each moon’s appearance in the usual manner – blooms of red
Frak’ha, scattered across the Imperial deathstone at the temple.
Farewell, my mate of many years. You have brought much joy to our
clan and hrai, and my heart purrs for you eternally.
Yours in honor,
Mar’buk
��
��������    ����
�����
� Hard news has just arrived of losses on the front line, though our
Navigation Leader cannot pinpoint the time of transmission. Our
brother forces lost two light carriers in a battle near Omega Sector,
along with seventy-four brave warriors. The message from the last
remaining carrier indicates that the enemy task force was presumably
attempting an attack on a Feeding Colony on Bordrav. Six Salthis
torpedoed the Confederation carrier in time to prevent the attack.
��������� ���
��� �� �� �� �� �� � ��
A reconnaissance Jrathek patrolling this sector has detected vapor
trails from a recently jumped vehicle. The origin of the gases is
unknown and possibly indicates that a Confederation ship has
intruded into the area. Constant radar scans fail to identify any such
craft. In preparation for the possible intrusion of enemy forces, the
carrier security level has been raised to Level II.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
� � � � ��� ��� � �� � � �  �� � � # "�� �
It’s been five days now, and we’re all feeling the pangs of reality.
The jump several days ago was uneventful; we ran into no
opposition and cleanly stepped through into Kilrathi territory. No
one’s been this far yet, which means our trillion-dol navigation
system isn’t worth a damned dime now.
I finally broke the news. Needless to say, it was a solemn meeting
on the bridge. I broadcast the general briefing on the bridge
VidCom and called for five minutes of silence to honor those
who’ve died already in this war. Those were the longest five
minutes of my life. The crew read the screen and looked away.
Some glared at me, others bore their stare straight into the steel
tiles. A few grins broke out among the young kids aiming for glory
and adventure. No one had the inclination to speak, not even me.
As I passed them by and retired into my quarters, half the salutes
rang with eager pride. The other half stung with hatred and
resentment. What they don’t know, what they don’t understand, is
that I feel it too. Maybe after everyone settles down a bit, I can
plant the seeds of heroism. After all, we could all be heroes if this
bird ever toasts Kilrah!
��
Son,
You’re a brave kid to stay behind and take care of
your Mom. I know it’s hard to understand, but the
cats I’m fighting want to take away your freedom. Do
you know what freedom is, Graham? It’s sort of like
being able to choose what you want to wear, then
going outside to play with your friends.
Sometimes really strong people with big guns think
that they can control freedom and tell everyone else
what to do. That’s why I’m fighting – the big cats
you asked me about want to take over our planet and
hurt people.
I know your friends say that some people don’t come
home after they fight. But I don’t want you to
listen to them … as soon as I see you, we’re going
to go on a long vacation at the beach. So, be a good
kid and give your Mom lots of hugs for me. I miss
all of you just as much as you miss me, and hope to
come home soon.
Love,
Dad
P..S. Mister Cat is being a great help – he’s
perched right on top of my pillow and guards my bed
while I’m out flying!
��
� � � � ��� ��� � �� � � �  �����"�� �
I cherish the spirit of this war, for I command a treasury of loyal
warriors who are ready to lay down their lives for Kilrah. I, too, would
gladly fight by their side to the death for honor if nothing else. Yet, I
have lost half of my hrai to this cause, the conquest of the Terrans. I
was away defending Ghorah Khar when the humans fired upon the
inhabited moon of Trak’mar. The stunning grief haunts me even now
as I write, and I know the humans feel this same swelling hatred. Were
it not for my honor, I would have nothing left for which to fight.
Still, the war continues. And for what, besides sadness and more rocks
upon which to plant Ak’rah bushes? I do not see an end, for the
generations continue to die in multitudes of eights.
I pause now to bow my mane in shame, for I should not question
Thrakhath’s wisdom in this matter. He is wiser than I, of nobler blood,
a capable commander of Kilrah. He himself has survived one battle
with the top pilot in the Confederation. Should he even hear of the
words I write, I would most definitely disgrace my hrai and world.
I am a Commander, I am the spirit of the men I lead through this war.
For them, I must be strong and able to place faith in my Lord. I must
remember this as we wage revenge on the Terran doorstep.
In true faith of Sivar,
Commander Azruk’ha nar Caxki
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Medical Notice
All crews should report to the Medical Suite between
1450 and 1800 hours to obtain a preventative viral
patch. Being in a foreign sector, it is possible
that you may be exposed to unknown contaminants. For
this reason, all spacewalk suits exposed outside the
ship airlock will be incinerated upon removal.
��
Medical Report.
Procedure Analysis of Morale
Commander,
I have noticed some marked changes in the crew as of
late. Over twenty men and women have come to me
within the last 48 hours, some for counseling,
others for various anti-anxiety medications. For
reasons of confidentiality, I cannot discuss
individual cases with you. But, I feel that you
should be aware of the morale situation.
Medically speaking, it seems that many crewhands are
suffering from borderline hysterical anxiety. Common
threads among the counselees are feelings of
hopelessness, thoughts of mutiny, and requests for
functional coping patches.
I assume, obviously, that the state of the war and
the mission at hand are contributing to the stress
levels of the men and women onboard. In other words,
your crewhands are about ready to blow their corks!
I’ve slated group sessions for 1300 hours every day
to build ship morale. Unless we want mass hysteria
on our hands, I suggest that we both attend.
With all due respect,
James Heircho, TCN M.D.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Mail Notice
One final mail drop will be transmitted to a central
processing planet preceding our cross into enemy
territory. Any mail not posted to the
SYSTEM>>MAIL>>OUT>> network by 1200 hours will not
be sent. Remember, do not disclose any information
outside the scope of normal civilian knowledge.
��
$ ���%
Today I scratched my twenty-second kill mark onto the hull of a
Gladius. It’s weird ... I feel equally sad and hyped each time I blast
one of the furballs. You know they’ve got families, just like we do.
You know that they breathe, feel and die just like our pilots do. As
many as I blow away, the feelings of remorse never quite fade.
Still, years of fighting these mange-ridden pilots have taught me
not to waste much time being humanitarian. If an enemy is injured
or retreating, blast him. Just don’t give him a chance to take you
out first. A buddy of mine made that mistake once when he hung
around to study the exhaust mechanism of an injured Jalthi.
The Kilrathi are a strange race, vaguely humanlike – if you overlook
the fur. They stand erect and communicate. Once, I even saw their
written language inside the cockpit of a captured ship. It reminds me
of written Morse code, turned on its side. Stacks of vertical lines,
some short and others long, represent phonetic syllables.
The cats remind me of the old Imperial Army, never giving up
honor even at the cost of life. They’ve even committed Zu’kara for
simply insulting their superiors. Imagine that, clawing out your
own throat in a ritual suicide just because someone tells you to!
Another oddity I find is their crazy hierarchy. They take the phrase
“born leader” quite seriously, passing royalty down from one
generation to another. Kilrah swears loyalty to its current dictator,
and even the Imperial bloodlines are themselves subdivided into
clans of sorts. Apparently, a cat’s entire future is determined by his
social status from birth. I guess that kind of compares to being
born on Pluto versus Jupiter or Manhattan Island on Earth.
As strict as the cats are on social “rules,” they sure aren’t the
chauvinistic type! All of their religious factions have females in
charge. I find this interesting – after all, it wasn’t until the late
1990s that we even let women hold high church offices on Earth.
Oh well, enough of my analysis of the hairballs ... it’s time to grab
a bite and fly. With any luck, I might bag another cat before the
day’s out and add more meaningless entries into my bank of
Kilrathi knowledge!
2nd Lieutenant Niekro Hammond
��
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�    
“Mar’buk.”
“Sire?”
“I wish to see you immediately.”
“Yes, my Lord.” Though my voice runs steady, I feel fear turn cold and
dark inside me. Butlav descends directly from the Imperial family and
never himself asks to speak with individual officers unless something
is terribly unright. Pulse pounding, I follow him slowly into a nearby
Holo room. He closes the door with meticulous care, and I steel
myself against what is to come. I think this is my end ...
“You have spoken with the human, no?”
“I have, Butlav, he ... ”
“Is this what our race has stooped to, Mar’buk?”
“My Lord?”
“Sit! You will listen and watch. Do not disturb me with your words!”
I watch him flick on a monitor, then my heart falls as I see myself on
the screen. I am interrogating the human prisoner. I visibly loose a
massive sigh, then slump frustratedly back into the Interrogation chair.
As I slowly sink into somber thought, sounds from the Holofilm pierce
the silent room.
I remember now that the air in the tiny Interrogation Quarters had
turned warm and sticky with human sweat. Other cats had awaited
their fate there, accused of non-fealty and treasonous words. Most had
met with death. But not this human, who was to be Thrakhath’s toy
once he contributed enough threads of knowledge.
How I wished now not to have heard his words of peace, his cowardly
pleas for a bargain … what did he call it, a “hostage deal”? I did not
know this word. He is merely a prisoner, one of many weak Terrans
who would rather jump from their burning ship than die honorably.
A flash of anger courses through me. How dare the Commander tape
this conversation and thus violate my honor! My thoughts seething, I
watch my Holoform turn angrily toward the creature and growl
awkwardly in the clipped language of the Terrans.
“Human! I will only ask this of you once more. What plans has the
Confederation laid for their next attack? You are of high standing
among your people and should know of these objectives.”
� �
I watch as the golden-headed human’s jowl opens and closes rapidly,
releasing a few uninterpretable utterances mixed with words of
desperation. He points to a strange emblem on his left bicep, a colored
scar of some sort decorated with numbers. It appears to be some type
of medal, drawn directly on the thin, pale hide of the human.
“Look, all I want is for you to radio this badge number – see, it’s
tattooed right here on my arm. Just key it out to the nearest
Confederate ship and we can work out some kind of deal. I know you
hairballs have a few cats stranded inside our systems, and I’ve got
contacts. All you have to do is mention the name Corporal ...”
Before he can finish, I hear my Holoform bite his words off sharply.
“Would you dishonor your hrai as you do now? If I were you, death
would be the only welcome reward for such cowardice!”
“You’re all such damn martyrs that you can’t see the meaning of real
honor!“ exclaims the sweaty human. “Okay, try this – put yourself in
my shoes. What would you rather do, die miserably alone at the
mercy of the enemy, or fight like a drowning cat to stay alive long
enough to see your family, your hrai, whatever you call it?”
“Your only choice, Terran, is to honor your god of war and lose your
life as a hero. Were I to do as you say, my superiors and hrai would
fight amongst themselves to decide who should claw me to death.”
I see the human close his eyes, a small splash of red flushing his
stubbled cheek.
“Maybe that’s the difference between you and me. We have no ‘god
of war’ as such. The beings that we worship, at least for those of us
that do believe in such beings, stand for peace, not war.”
Peace? Was that the word he had used? I struggle with my thoughts,
for an instant remembering that I had almost offered this Terran the
privilege of addressing him by name. I scold myself for having
weakened at his words.
“I do not know this peace you speak of, human. War is necessary for
our survival. We survive on Kilrah because we must. When the fresh
meat and the plants and the water are not enough to feed our clans,
we are entitled to search for other sources elsewhere. Would you not
wish the same for your ... family?”

I watch the screen as my clone on the Holo straightens its back. I
remember feeling quite pleased with my use of this foreign word for
hrai. The human should by all means have sprawled on his back then,
forepaws up to me for serving him such a word. Instead, he falls silent
and solemnly gazes at my form on the screen.
“War is not about survival, Mar’buk. War is pure hell, fathomed out of
someone else’s principles and ideas of what is Ôgood for the
homeland.’ We fight not for food, but for freedom. I doubt you know this
word, but it means that all living beings have the same rights to
survival.
“When we ran out of supplies for our 14 billion-plus people, we built
self-sufficient hydroponic stations on uninhabited planets. Our
scientists searched for ways to streamline and improve our survival
skills. Then, your people came along and destroyed our colonies. We
weren’t intruding on anyone else’s world ... you cats, on the other
hand, take what you want and pay no heed to freedom or life.”
These human words strike me strangely even now, though I know not
why. He has not experienced the hunt, nor the honor and thrill in
bringing home extended life to his clan. I remember being quite
exhausted at this point, halfway feeling a remote pity for this Terran.
“Do the humans not hunt for food, then? How do you feed the people
with these ... with these hydrones?“ I ask these questions of the
Terran, my ears slightly tilted for his response. His lips curl upward on
either side in a strange expression, and he parts with a strange guttural
sound.
“Uh, I think you mean hydroponic. We raise food, see, both meats and
plants. People in the processing stations prepare the food and send it
out to all the worlds. It’s not hunting, really. Though I guess in our
anthropological background, we used to wield clubs and antique
projectile guns to gather food. Listen, I’d love to sit around and talk
gardens with you some other time, but ...”
Suddenly, the Holoscreen floods with the bleeps and flashes of the
remote siren indicator. I hear the halls echoing with the footsteps of
dozens of Kilrathi pilots, their hindlegs clicking on beaded steel floors.
Our conversation thus interrupted, I can almost see my momentary
sensation of understanding pass, the cold stare of war returning my
Holoform’s eyes to a deep, glazed yellow. Without a word, I watch
myself exit the room and close the door on this gold-headed human.
� �
I remember silently make my way to the bridge, thinking I ought to
request cooked meat and warmed milk for his next daily platter.
I am jolted back into my present predicament as Butlav addresses me.
“Mar’buk. You know that you have failed me by allowing yourself to
empathize with this scum.”
I lower myself before Butlav in the proper gesture of disgrace.
“My Lord, I was simply trying to gain some understanding with the
human. How else could I extract information from a creature who does
not respond to normal methods of torture?”
“It is inexcusable, Mar’buk! Now, leave my presence and administer
your punishment!”
He is almost screaming at me now, not understanding what I had
learned from this human. I cannot refuse his orders, for I have shamed
my Liege-Lord. The punishment he speaks of is the harshest, expected
of any warrior that fails in his duties. My takhar, my human equal, may
your fate be better than mine ...
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
HoloVid of the Week
All hands are invited to tonight’s screening of The
Dangerous Angels at 1900 hours in the HoloVid room.
This thrilling saga pits intergalactic supercop
(played by Camden Payne) against a ruthless pirate
(Allen Amikov) who makes his living by disrupting
commercial trade routes.
According to the International Film Reviewers,
Payne’s “good guy” performance is legendary and
breaks away from his usual assortment of evil roles.
His love interest in Caren McCall (Sheena Anne
Zwastky) is convincing enough to evoke tears from the
most hard-hearted of movie-goers. The critics rave at
the romance between the two, which consists mostly of
holographic e-mail messages.
With its suspenseful scenes and romantic allure, The
Dangerous Angels proves that classic action Holofilms
haven’t given way to commercialism. Payne and Zwatsky
turn out to be pleasurably compatible, and their
romance takes a unique twist midway through the plot.
� �
LOGIN E-MAIL> /#TCN/BBS/PILOTS
SUBSCRIBERS> SAMBYA, MARIKA
CONNECT TO?> FRASIER, JAY
<JF> Getting off duty at 1600. Dinner? :)
<MS> Can’t. Have to meet with Jacorski.
<JF> Meeting with the big man! What’s up?
<MS> Don’t know. Maybe I’ll finally learn what’s
going on!
<JF> If you do, and it isn’t confidential, let me
know... no one’s talking, not even Cap!
<MS> I hate this. It makes me feel like a cadet all
over again!
<JF> You have to admit, it’s exciting. Exactly what
I had in mind when I signed up!
<MS> Well, I don’t remember the paragraph in my
enlistment papers about accepting a mission
before I’m briefed.
<JF> Me either, but I like surprises. Don’t get
boring on me now...
<MS> Boring? I’m just worried that a furball’s
going to surprise ME!
<JF> Hey, you can’t sit around worrying if you’ll
survive your next mission. Jump into it!
<MS> Right. What I’m really worried about is three
kids back home. You play cool, Mr. I -Wanna-
Be-A-Fighter-Hero, but I bet you worry about
home sometimes, too.
<JF> Not anymore. Know what home is to me?
<MS> What?
<JF> A steaming pile of charred cat dung. All
because of those damned kamikaze cats! You
worry about home when you still have the
chance to protect one!
<MS> Maybe the cats are worried about their own
families. They’ve got homes too, you know.
<JF> I love it. Do you realize what you’re saying?
We’ve got to take the fight to THEM... wipe
them clean before they get the last of us!
Can’t you see sense?
<MS> You’re the one who needs some sense, Jay.
<JF> You’re starting to sound like one of those
philosophizing, uppity ambassadors. More
� �
concerned with everybody being nice than
winning a war we didn’t start!
<MS> Hey, the ambassadors are trying to end this
hellish war, just like you are. Only without
all the deaths. That’s more than the snotnosed
kids you fly with. They’re just
interested in their kill-scores.
<JF> They might be cocky, but you shouldn’t knock
them yet. They’ve never been in battle.
<MS> Yeah, that’s my point exactly. They’d better
get all their ducks in a row before I get
paired up with one of them!
<JF> Anyway...
<MS> Anyway. Dinner at 1900?
<JF> 1900. Rec Room. Be there.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
My Liege-Lord,
At this time, my body surely will have been discovered by a
crewmate. You are correct to assume that I have failed in the eyes of
the Kilrathi creed of war. After many hours of deliberation, I find my
only recourse to be death.
While interrogating the human, I allowed him to weaken my mind
and question my ethics of duty. He does not understand our ways of
survival and tried to sway me with a wagging tongue. I was unable to
extract anything useful from him – he is a skinned creature of higher
rank and wishes to be “traded” to his Liege-lord’s ship. I infer that this
means he means he wants to be exchanged for a similar
Confederation prisoner.
My mission thus failed, it is with much sorrow and repentance that I
remove myself from the line of duty. I hope you find some slight hair
of honor in my retribution.
Honorably yours,
Mar’buk nar Caxki
Leader of Tongues
� �
��������    �
�����
�    �
���
At four-eights past dinner, Leader of Tongues Mar’buk disposed of his
own life. He failed in his attempts to extract military information from
our human prisoner and will not be granted normal burial procedures.
No one is to communicate with the Terran until further notice. Any
warrior that breaks this command is subject to an isolation sentence.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
���������        
����
�������
TO: Fellow pilots and gunners
FROM: Marcus O’Donnell, TCN Gunnery Officer II
Since we’re about to encounter the Kilrathi’s top defenses, I’ve
taken the liberty of gathering a list of weapons. In the attached
report, you’ll find weapons used in both fleets. As far as I know,
the cats have about the same level of technology that we do. It’s
long, and it may bore you. But, I’m trying to keep you alive, and
any bit of information I can offer may help. Read it, remember it,
use it – none of you flyboys are good enough to ignore me!
� �� ���
��    ��� ��� ���� ��� �� ��
� �� ��
�� ����

Weapons are categorized into two types – guns and missiles. Guns
are all multiple-fire weapons that draw energy from a ship to
function. Missiles encompass all single-shot munitions, both
dumb-mechanism missiles and those equipped with targeting
systems. Years of combat have determined that the Kilrathi
possess nearly the same types and numbers of firearms that we do.
Note: Items in parentheses indicate Kilrathi equivalents.
���

Mass Driver Cannon. The mass driver has medium range, good
accuracy and applies medium damage. Heat buildup and power
drain are minimal, and the damage potential remains constant
within the cannon’s range. Though other types of cannon have
evolved, the mass driver remains a solid weapon in any situation.
Damage 20 dpph (damage potential per hit)
Range 2500 km
Speed 2000 kps
Refire delay .14 sec
� �
Laser Cannon. The laser is a lightweight weapon and a staple
among carriers and transports. It drains less power than other
mounted guns but delivers more shots wielding slightly less
damage. Its range of 5000 meters surpasses that of most guns.
Damage 13 dpph (10)
Range 5000 m (5000)
Speed 3000 kps (3000)
Refire delay .125 sec (.125)
Flux Cannon (Kilrathi). The flux cannon uses magnetic pulses to
track and identify enemy ships. It delivers average damage at
medium range and low energy cost.
Damage 20 dpph
Range 2500 km
Speed 2000 kps
Refire delay .14 sec
Photon Cannon. The photon cannon came into service recently
and falls into the category of sophisticated arms. Although it
depletes blaster power quickly, the damage potential is high
enough that a single shot can down your ship if you’re not careful.
With long-range and high velocity, the effectiveness of the photon
is second only to the reaper cannon.
Damage 37 dpph (40)
Range 4200 km (4200)
Speed 2800 kps (2700)
Refire delay .165 sec (.125)
Neutron Gun. A relative of the mass driver, the neutron gun is
found mostly on light fighters designed to attack at close range.
Blasts from this gun apply piercing damage to armor and can
obliterate another fighter at close range.
Damage 18 dpph
Range 4400 km
Speed 2400 kps
Refire delay .133 sec
� �
Flak Gun. Flak guns provide most of the side and rear gun
protection for carriers. Computer-operated, they employ explosive
energy bursts. Flak guns have medium range and high firing rates,
and they diminish power more slowly than other guns.
Damage 50 dpph
Range 2500 km
Speed 2500 kps
Refire delay .1 sec
Electron Gun (Kilrathi). This weapon fires high energy bursts of
electronic energy that effectively diminish shields. However, the
electron gun has medium range and refire delay.
Damage 25 dpph
Range 3500 km
Speed 2500 kps
Refire delay .15 sec
Plasma Gun (Kilrathi). Plasma-bolt guns are new weapons,
present only on a few fighter prototypes. These guns are only
effective at short ranges and apply little damage. Don’t take them
lightly—the blasts use little power and can be fired indefinitely.
Damage 37 dpph
Range 4200 km
Speed 2800 kps
Refire delay .125 sec
Reaper Cannon. The heaviest gun developed to date, the reaper
cannon has gunned down more ships than all other weapons
combined. Besides acting effectively at long range, this blaster has
powerful damage potential and recharges quickly.
Damage 40 dpph
Range 4200 km
Speed 2700 kps
Refire delay .175 sec
� �
Particle Cannon. The particle cannon fires nuclear particles that
inflict average damage on energy shields. This weapon has
medium range and speed.
Damage 23 dpph
Range 3000 km
Speed 2200 kps
Refire delay .13 sec
Tachyon Cannon. The newly developed tachyon cannon emits
sub-atomic particles that are able to penetrate weakened shields
and retain their damage potential.
Damage 25 dpph
Range 3500 km
Speed 2500 kps
Refire delay .15 sec
Ionic Pulse Cannon. This high-power cannon fires ionized
electrical pulses that can down a light fighter with just a few shots.
It inflicts high damage at medium range but renergizes more
quickly than other guns. (Kilrathi Matter Disruptor)
Damage 33 dpph (33)
Range 2000 km (2000)
Speed 2500 kps (2300)
Refire delay .1 sec (.1)
Mass Accelerator Gun (Kilrathi). A relative of the super-collider,
this gun delivers light damage using blasts of sub-atomic particles.
Damage 15 dpph
Range 2600 km
Speed 2000 kps
Refire delay .14 sec
Sonic Accelerator (Kilrathi). Still in the prototype stage, the
long-range sonic accelerator gun uses a sonar tracking system.
Damage potential is low, but will probably improve with time.
Damage 18 dpph
Range 4400 km
Speed 2400 kps
Refire delay .13 sec
�     
Phase Blaster (Kilrathi). These guns interrupt the electrical
phasing mechanism of energy shields. Phase blasters inflict heavy
damage at medium range.
Damage 30 dpph
Range 3000 km
Speed 2200 kps
Refire delay .13 sec


��

Dumbfire. This missile is a point-and-shoot weapon that doesn’t
require a missile lock – just aim at a target and launch it. With no
homing capability, a dumb-fire is most dangerous against pilots
who can anticipate your reactions. Pilots usually reserve DF
missiles for use in close quarters or against slow-moving targets. In
most cases, you can easily evade these missiles by outmaneuvering
the missile. (Kilrathi brand Paw, Terran brand Dart.)
Active timer 30 sec
Speed 2800 kps
Turn rate 0 dps
Damage 210 dpph
Lock time -na-
Heat-Seeker (HS). The engines of fighters and capital ships
generate a lot of heat, a fact that the heat-seeking missile uses to its
advantage. The targeting system looks for the hottest, closest
object, so you can try flying near an enemy ship. In some cases,
the missile will adhere to a second heat source and quit tracking
you. (Kilrathi brand Stalker, Terran brand Javelin.)
Active timer 20 sec (20)
Speed 2500 kps (2400)
Turn rate 60 dps (60)
Damage 250 dpph (240)
Lock time 1.5 sec (1.7)
Image-Recognition (IR). An image-recognition missile operates
by “memorizing” a targeted ship. It’s difficult to evade once it
gains a lock, and a chaff pod won’t distract it from a target. If you
spot one coming at you, your best bet is to dart behind another
� �
enemy ship and hope that it inadvertently hits your opponent
instead. (Kilrathi brand Claw, Terran brand Spiculum.)
Active timer 20 sec
Speed 2300 kps
Turn rate 60 dps
Damage 260 dpph
Lock time 2.5 sec
Friend-or-Foe (FF). The friend-or-foe missile locks onto the
nearest enemy ship. Capable of identifying the distinctive signal
broadcast by enemy ships, it makes a beeline for the nearest ship
that isn’t broadcasting. This weapon will target friendly ships
whose communications systems are damaged. Even the firing ship
is not safe! (Kilrathi brand Fang, Terran brand Pilum.)
Active timer 25 sec
Speed 2200 kps
Turn rate 60 dps
Damage 275 dpph
Lock time -na-
Torpedo. A mainstay in both Kilrathi and Confederation loadouts,
the torpedo is the only missile capable of destroying a carrier. It can
penetrate heavy-duty phase shields in a single shot. This weapon is
reserved for medium-to-heavy class fighters.
Active timer 28 sec
Speed 2600 kps
Turn rate 0 dps
Damage 18,000 dpph
Lock time -na-
Leech (L). The leech missile first appeared on prototypes of the
Confederation’s Wraith fighter. However, recent developments
incorporate hardpoint mounts for the leech. It drains a target of all
energy for 20 seconds.
Active timer 12 sec
Speed 2300 kps
Turn rate 45 dps
Damage 1 dpph
Lock time 2.5 sec

Chaff Pod. Pilots drop chaff pods to intercept incoming missiles
with locking mechanisms. Try to persuade the opposing pilot to
drop these early during a battle, then launch one of your heatseeking
missiles. With any luck, he won’t have any pods left to
counter your missiles.
Active timer 30 sec
Speed 0 kps
Turn rate 0 dps
Damage -2 dpph
Lock time -na-
� �
� � ��� ��� ��        
����
�������
TO: All pilots
FROM: William Harrison, TCN Deck Officer III
We’re about to fight the most important battle of our lives, and it is
imperative that we gain the upper hand. Therefore, I’ve done a
little digging to unearth resource files on five Kilrathi ships that
we’re most likely to face. In the attached report, I have listed these
ships and their statistics. You will also find brief explanation of
some of the rating characteristics.
Maximum Velocity/Cruise Velocity. These velocity settings are
governed by the ship’s computer and set in relation to (a) the
flagship, (b) an escorted vessel, (c) a nearby planetary body, (d) a
beacon or (e) a value derived from radar positions of all visible
ships. The velocity is expressed in kilometers per second (kps),
although the Kilrathi use “octomaks” instead of meters.
Acceleration. This evaluation of the ship’s acceleration rate is
described as Bad, Poor, Average, Good or Excellent.
Maximum Pitch, Roll and Yaw. These characteristics are
expressed in degrees per second (dps).
Pitch. Ability to change direction up or down.
Roll. Ability of a ship to rotate along an imaginary axis extending
through the nose and tail.
� �
Yaw. Ability of a ship to turn right or left without changing its
vertical position.
Ship’s Armor. Defensive armor is measured in centimeters
thickness of Durasteel, while Fore and Aft values have values
displayed equivalent to centimeters of Durasteel.
The Kilrathi have possessed spacecraft technology for over six
centuries, following nearly the same timeline as us. Engineers have
decided that presently our technologies are almost equal, with the
Kilrathi having more access to raw materials for ship construction.


�� �
Class Light Fighter
Length 28 meters
Mass 4725 kg
Max. Velocity 745 kps
Cruise Velocity 500 kps
Acceleration Excellent
Max. YPR 5/6/7 dps
Weapons Mass Accelerator Gun (2) Paw Dumbfire (2)
Armor Fore and Aft Shields 1.5 cm equivalent each
Front and Rear 1.5 cm each
Right and Left 1.5 cm each
� � �� �

Class Medium Fighter
Length 39 meters
Mass 7150 kg
Max. Velocity 695 kps
Cruise Velocity 500 kps
Acceleration OK
Max. YPR 5 dps
Weapons Sonic Accelerator Gun (2) Matter Disrupter Gun (2)
Stalker Heatseeker (2) Claw Image Recognition (2)
Chaff Pod (1)
Armor Fore and Aft Shields 2.7 cm equivalent each
Front and Rear 2 cm each
Right and Left 1.5 cm each.
� �

� �� ��
Class Medium Fighter
Length 35 meters
Mass 6300 kg
Max. Velocity 595 kps
Cruise Velocity 450 kps
Acceleration Excellent
Max. YPR 4/7/5 dps
Weapons Flux Cannon (2) Photon Cannon (2)
Fang Friend-or-Foe (2) Claw Image-Recognition (2)
Chaff Pod (1)
Armor Fore and Aft Shields 4.0 cm equivalent each
Front and Rear 2.7 cm each
Right and Left 2.5 cm each
� �


� Class Heavy Fighter
Length 38 meters
Mass 7135 kg
Max. Velocity 695 kps
Cruise Velocity 500 kps
Acceleration OK
Max. YPR 4/3/3 dps
Weapons Flux Cannon (2) Phase Blaster Gun (2)
Paw Dumbfire (4) Claw Image-Recognition (2)
Torpedo (2) Chaff Pod (2)
Armor Fore and Aft Shields 5.0 cm equivalent each
Front and Rear 3.7 cm each
Right and Left 3.7 cm each
� �
� �
Class Heavy Fighter
Length 42 meters
Mass 8200 kg
Max. Velocity 375 kps
Cruise Velocity 350 kps
Acceleration Poor
Max. YPR 2/3/3 dps
Weapons Laser Cannon (2) Flux Cannon (2)
Electron Gun (2) Paw Dumbfire (4)
Fang Friend-or-Foe (2) Claw Image-Recognition (4)
Torpedo (2) Chaff Pod (2)
� �
Armor Fore and Aft Shields 8.0 cm equivalent each
Front and Rear 6.5 cm each
Right and Left 4.5 cm each
� �
� �� ��� �

��

Class Capital Ship
Length 715 meters
Mass 2.8 million kg
Max. Velocity 50 kps
Cruise Velocity 50 kps
Acceleration Poor
Max. YPR 1 dps
Weapons Flak Gun (12)
Armor Fore and Aft Shields 120 cm equivalent each
Front and Rear 80 cm each
Right and Left 80 cm each
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
� � � �
�� ���� �� ��
��   ! " # $ % �
TO: Clanmates of the 23rd vessel
FROM: Z’ratmak nar Kur’u’tak
As ordered by our Liege-lord Butlav, I have compiled an update for
interstellar spacecraft. This document has been specifically revised for
warriors in front-line sectors. The supplement contains the latest
specifications on common Terran craft.
All pilots are ordered to familiarize themselves with these
specifications. If you wish, archived computer files of this material
have been placed in the main computer. For those of you unfamiliar
with the evaluation system, review these rating categories:
Maximum Velocity/Cruise Velocity. Ship velocity, set relative to
nearby objects, planets or radar positions of other ships. The Terrans
express velocity in kilometers per second (kps), roughly equivalent to
12 octomaks per second.
Length. The length of the ship. Terrans measure this in meters,
comparable to 1.2 of our maks.
Mass. Mass of the ship. Terrans measure this in kilograms (1 kilogram
equals 12 octogrammas).
� �
Acceleration. The ship’s acceleration rate is given as Bad, Poor,
Average, Good or Excellent.
Maximum Pitch, Roll and Yaw. The Terrans measure these vectors as
we do, in degrees per second (dps).
Ship’s Armor. Armor measured in zarmaks thickness of Durasteel (12
zarmaks are equivalent.to 1 Terran centimeter) or values equivalent to
zarmaks of Durasteel. Higher numbers idicate more effective armor.
Confederation spacecraft have been in production for almost 1130 sun
years, paralleling our research in the field. Though the Confederation
ships have different designs and levels of functionality, their basic
premise of operation is almost identical to ours. Only eleven eights of
Confederation ships have been sighted in the last 24 suns. The evident
statistics for all current ships are listed in this entry. Several data may
be skewed slightly because of damage on captured ships.
Note: Numbers in parentheses are Terran measurements.
&

�'
Class Light Fighter
Length 22 maks, (18 m)
Mass 10,376 octogrammas (og), (4350 kg)
Max. Velocity 1433 octomaks/sec (om/s), (795 m/s)
Cruise Velocity 764 octomaks/sec (om/s), (500 m/s)
Acceleration Excellent
Max. YPR 6/6/7 dps
Weapons Laser Cannon (2) Dart Dumbfire (4)
Armor Fore and Aft Shields 1zarmaks(zm)equivalenteach(1.7cm)
Front and Rear 1 zm each (1.2 cm)
Right and Left 1 zm each (1.2 cm)
� � ����
Class Heavy Fighter
Length 50 maks, (40 m)
Mass 17,531 og, (8025 kg)
Max. Velocity 1267 om/s, (695 m/s)
Cruise Velocity 733 om/s, (475 m/s)
Acceleration Good
Max. YPR 5 dps
� �
Weapons Laser Cannon (2) Mass Driver (2)
Dart Dumbfire (2) Spiculum Image-Recognition (2)
Armor Fore and Aft Shields 2 zm equivalent each, (2.6 cm)
Front and Rear 2 zm each, (2.1 cm)
Right and Left 2 zm each, (2.1 cm)
(
� ���
Class Medium Fighter
Length 43 maks, (35 m)
Mass 15,054og, (6700 kg)
Max. Velocity 1123 om/s, (595 m/s)
Cruise Velocity 702 om/s, (450 m/s)
Acceleration Excellent
Max. YPR 5/4/5 dps
Weapons Particle Cannon (2) Reaper Cannon (2)
Dart Dumbfire (6) Spiculum Image-Recognition (2)
Leech (2) Chaff Pods (3)
Armor Fore and Aft Shields 4 zm equivalent each (4.0 cm)
Front and Rear 3 zm each (3.2 cm)
Right and Left 2 zm each (2.2 cm).

� ) �� �
Class Medium Fighter
Length 44maks, (36 m)
Mass 15,364 og, (6900 kg)
Max. Velocity 1356 om/s, (750 m/s)
Cruise Velocity 764 om/s, (500 m/s)
Acceleration Good
Max. YPR 3/4/5 dps
Weapons Laser Cannon (2) Particle Cannon (2)
Tachyon Cannon (2) Dart Dumbfire (8)
Javelin Heatseeker (1) Torpedo (1)
Chaff Pod (1)
Armor Fore and Aft Shields 5 zm equivalent each (5.0 cm)
Front and Rear 4 zm each (4.0 cm)
Right and Left 3 zm each (3.7 cm)
� �
* � ��� ��
Class Heavy Fighter
Length maks, (43 m)
Mass 53 og, (8345 kg)
Max. Velocity 20,231 om/s, 395 kps)
Cruise Velocity 536 om/s, (350 kps)
Acceleration Poor
Max. YPR 3/2/3 dps
Weapons Neutron Gun (2) Ionic Pulse Cannon (2)
Photon Cannon (2) Dart Dumbfire (2)
Javelin Heatseeker (2) Pilum Friend-or-Foe (2)
Leech (1) Torpedo (2)
Chaff Pod (2)
Armor Fore and Aft Shields 7 zm equivalent each (7 cm)
Front and Rear 5 zm each (5 cm)
Right and Left 5 zm each (5 cm)
+ �

� ��� �

��

Class Capital Ship
Length 1325 maks, (725 m)
Mass 4 octomils (3.25 million kg)
Max. Velocity 62 om/s, (50 m/s)
Cruise Velocity 62 om/s, (50 m/s)
Acceleration Poor
Max. YPR 1 dps
Weapons Flak Gun (10)
Armor Fore and Aft Shields 170 zm equivalent each, (120 cm)
Front and Rear 132 zm each, (90 cm)
Right and Left 132 zm each, (90 cm)

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