<This is something I have been writing on and off for the last couple of months, and this is what I have acheived so far.>

Admiral Lincon Maxton looked out from the observetory window on the shuttle 'Pride' at the space dock above the planet Minu. He took in the whole sight with a mixture of happiness and nervousness. The space dock stretched out for fifteen kilometres in a safe orbit around the desert planet. It could hold thirty C-class battle ships and two D-class command ships at one time; fifteen ships along each side and one command ship on each end. The O.E.A (Old Earth Administration) had spent untold amounts of resources, time and people on the space dock, making it the best in the O.E.A and therefore making it the most protected. Six 'Gunsight' orbital defence stations were stationed near the space station. The array of weaponry on the space stations made them a formidable opponent to face and a reassuring thing to see on your side.

Lincon saw three B-class frigates, one C-class and one D-class ship docked on one side of the space station and two other B-class ships spaced along the other end. He could see tiny specks of movement from both ships hulls and knew that they were both being repaired. He turned his attention to the other five ships docked.

These were his ships. He had a copy of the ceremony on his Vidlog which was in the top pocket of his dark blue naval uniform. As he thought about it, he was taken back to the promotion ceremony.

"Commander Lincon Maxton, of the O.E.A you have brought honour, valor and integrity to the Naval Army of the Administration. wour ability to lead a crew from several different ships to victory has earned you a placed in the circle of Army Command. May your insight in war be what we need to lead our forces to victory over the New Earth/Cataloniun Empire..."

A surge of anger rose up through Lincon at the thought of the N.E.C.E. For four hundred years the war had lasted. The actual reason for the war had been lost to the common people who were now just raised to hate the N.E.C.E. At the age of fourteen every Old Earth citizen had to serve the military for a mandatory period of seven years. In that time a minimum rank of Sargeant had to be earned and held for a year before the citizen would be allowed to return home. If a soldier showed promising signs they were kept on in the military with the knowledge that their family back home would be well looked after as long as their service to their superiors was exceptional.

The N.E.C.E were known to attack any where at any time giving them the titles of ruthless, merciless and extremely unpredictable. Many, many times Old Earth forces attacked what they believed were important military staging grounds or other equally important facilites only to find that when the forces arrived, the target in question was nothing more then an empty planet already stripped of all valuable resources and only guarded by a small guardian force which would always open fire with every weapon they could then turn tail and run before the Old Earth forces had a chance to react, and on other occasions Old Earth would send a small scout force to worlds believed to be those exact kinds of traps only to be met with a massive fleet that would wipe out the scout force.

"Transport shuttle 'Pride' will dock with Minu Space Station in ten minutes." The pilot said through the ships intercom, breaking Lincon from his thoughts. He looked at the small Vidlog screen he had pulled from his pocket and was now in his hands. It read 10:12 Standard Earth Time, 6735 AD. Every citizen was given a Vidlog during their initiation into the military. It was was an individuals responsibility to keep it maintained. It looked to be nothing more than a pencil about fifteen centemetres long. A small Flexiplax screen could be unrolled to about twenty-five centemetres. It consisted of a touch screen, and all the data that the owner wanted to store. It could hold one hundred billion Gigabytes of audio and visual files, and many other tools that were helpful. Each individual Vidlog was keyed to the DNA, fingerprint, voice and retina scan of its owner, making it impossible to hack into. Once the owner had deceased, the contents would be uploaded to the Old Earth Mainframe for cataloging. A scanner in the Vidlog measured how far it was away from its owner and would emit a high pitched sound to alert the owner that they had forgotten their Vidlog.

Lincon put the Vidlog in his pocket again and looked out over the Space Station. It had grown steadily larger since he had replayed the ceremony in his head, and it now filled most of the view port. At this closer angle he could see more then just specks of light over the frigates; they were men and women working over the hull, fusing exposed wiring and tubing back in place, while larger remote controlled arms were hovering in the back ground, ready to fit a new plate of reinforced armor over the newly repaired sections.

He could see the extent of the damage on the two frigates as he passed over them. There were no nuclear explosion markings that he could see, which was the norm. Missiles, torpedos and weapons of the like were almost obsolete due to the advfancements in gravitational knowledge. Gigantic blocks of solid metals were hurled through the cold dead of space at other ships for a simple reason; A thirty tonne ten by ten metre solid piece of iron being launched at roughly eight-hundred and fifty kilometres an hour generally did a lot of damage and not much can stop that sort of mass at that speed. Although it might of seemed easy to dodge, a skilled marksman would predict the evasive direction the enemy ship could take and fire a number of the projectiles at each angle making it virtually impossible to dodge. Not many ships had the power to hold such a deadly weapon, and it was reserved for the largest ships in the Old Earth Fleet. The size of that weapon gave it a classing of Mk. Seven. Not many fleets lived to tell the tale of facing such a weapon.

Lincon remembered his first days at training, and the words his Drill Sargeant Haakon said.

"While fifty nuclear missiles being launched at a single ship might sound impressive and deadly, it is not. All ships are armed with an array of Mk. One and Mk. Two point defence turrets, at all angles. One glancing bullet from these weapons is enough to either blow the warhead apart, cause enough damage to send the missile in any direction or simply detonate the warhead at the time of impact, which would usually end up with one hell of an chain explosion, and one hell of an angry ship's captain."

The Drill Sargeant was right, Lincon thought as he shifted slightly to the left. The closest frigate had three massive craters across her side, the product of a badly executed broadside; the ship should had been ripped apart and although it hadn't been destroyed, the ship was now out of action for at least three weeks, if only the other frigate was here for that duration. Lincon thought about the Admiral of the fleet that ship belonged to and what his reaction might of been; Lincon would of been angry at the absence of one of his support ships.

He pushed the sudden train of thought from his head as he readied himself. He had to be calm. He was about to lead his first fleet and the crew did not need a jittery Admiral. He stood and brushed the crinkles from his unifom as the captain informed Lincon that the shuttle was now entering its landing phase. The shuttle shook ever so slightly as it entered the thrid landing bay doors. The ship headed along a row of similar ships on landing pads untill it came upon its target one fourth of the way down the long corridor. The shuttle stopped dead, and slowly manouvered to the landing pad. The soft clunk of landing gear on pads reverberated through the whole shuttle. Safety clamps rose up from the pad and fastened them selves around the landing gear. The pad suddenly jolted and the shuttle was drawn down into the depths of the Space Station. The ground rose up and eventually passed the view port untill all Lincon could see was black. He took this as his que to head towards the back of the shuttle where he would disembark and meet the ships leaders of his fleet. He stood in the airlock and he could suddenly hear a shard hiss, meaning that the roof had closed over thier heads and the outside was now being pressurized. He waited untill the light above the ramp had turned green, and when it did, the ramp lowered and Lincon took a deap breath.

He took a step forward before the ramp had even lowered half way and he had taken two steps onto the ramp before it had even touched the ground.

Before him, spread in a semi-circle around the right half of the ramp, were the Commander and Captains and the Lietenant of the command ship.

He walked up to the Commander first and shook the mans hand in traditional Old Earth custom.

"Admiral Maxton, it is finally an honor to meet you in person. Commander Christopher Sadder, Commander of the battle ship 'Fist of Vengence'." The tall thin man said. He had a fine trimmed moustache and a small goatee which fitted his lean face perfectly, giving off the impression of a very well learned man. Lincon greeted in much the same way, purely for formalities sake, they already knew his name and his history. Lincon couldn't wait untill he was settled in, he could get rid of all the unneeded talk.

He walked a litle further down to the three captains. There was a tall man, slightly more stocky then Chris, but with out the air of knowledge.

"Captain Nick Harrison, captain of the frigate 'Swordstroke.'" Nick said, also shaking hands. Next to him a smaller man stood, about a head smaller then Lincon.

"Captain Henry Martin, captain of the frigate 'Ender.'" Henry said. Lincon shook his head heartily hating such formal greetings. The best way to meet the crew you would be spending a solid chunk of your life with should be over a bottle of matured Hiron. The thought of the taste of the alcohol brought a smile to his face. The next person in line was a tall slender woman, who looked as though she had aged before her time. She had dark red hair that hung just below her shoulders and a face that looked weatherworn. The woman thought that Lincon had smiled at her so she smiled back, thankful that her
knew commanding officer was at least friendly.

"Captain Maggie Harper, captain of the frigate 'Hammers Anvil.'" She said in a soft but determined voice. He shook her hand and stood in front of the Lietenant.

"Lietenant Mark Hayes, sir!" The lad said, saluting Lincon, looking barely out of his teens. Lincon saluted back then shook the boys hand.

"It has been a pleasure to meet you all, and I am sure that you are all eager to get straight to work." Lincon said, taking several steps back so that he could see them all without turning his head. They all looked at him, awaiting his next words, determining whether he was a good man or a hard man. "I have brought some good news for you all. The fleet will be rested for nine Standard Earth Days before we set off for the Solina System where we will link up with the 31st and 57th fleets. More details will be uploaded to your Vidlogs before the day is out." Lincon saw the smiles on his crews faces and continued. "That shuttle ride has taken a while and there was no drink or food aboard. Do any of you care to show me to a decent food court?" He asked. Chris stepped forward.

"This way sir." He said, and although Lincon smiled and fell into step next to the commander while the others walked behind them, he gritted his teeth, and said to himself, you won't be calling me that after this.

Christopher lead the way while Lincon asked questions about the fleet. They were a cheery bunch, jesting with each other and beneath all the banter he could tell that these people had fought many times and that there was a deep bond between these people.

They walked through many corridors and from the general direction that they were heading Lincon knew they were heading along the longer section of the Space Station. They didn't pass many other people in the corridors. They arrived at a simple mess hall with four tables laid out in a square. The far wall held a small cafeteria with a small selection of food imported from other worlds. The group quickly chose some food and sat at the table furthest from the cafe.

Lincon grew quiter as the group talked and he learned many things about the people. They finished their food and Lincon decided that it was time to rest before he examined the ships the next day. He left the group in the eating area and walked to the temperary sleeping quarters.

Lincon looked around the room and could see that although it was well used, it was well kept. Triple layered bunk beds lined the walls while a long rectangular table sat in the middle. A door at the far end indicated the showers. A couple of people had already occupied beds and their curtains were closed over. Lincon sat on the bed closest to the door, and he wasn't there for long before he was compelled to visit one of the ships. He stood up and decided to see which ship was closest. He left the dorm and walked down the corridor. A computer console was up ahead and Lincon typed his password into the touchscreen, and gave his fingerprint.

The screen lit up and Lincon queried about the closest docked ship. It was the 'Hammers Anvil' and was only a short walk away. He typed a message into the data-stream of the Space Dock saying where he was headed and walked towards the frigate. As he walked he heard a soft beep from his pocket and pulled his vidlog from its holster. He had a message from Lt. Mark Hayes telling Lincon that he would meet himself and captain Maggie Harper aboard the frigate. Lincon was expecting to sneak aboard to check the ship out himself, but he suspected the Lt. had his Vidlog tied into Lincons data. Figuring the young boy wanted to impress, he walked on.

He found the cold red of the metal walls strangely comforting as he walked, his soft footsteps echoing queitly. He turned a view  corners, and while he was lost in thought he arrived at the 'Hammers Anvil' before he knew it. He walked along the small walkway that seperated the ship and the Space Station. Suddenly the walls around him changed texture and color. It was a soft warm blue, and although he knew the walls were still steal, they looked as though they were made from wood. There was a corridor leading straight ahead, so Lincon followed it.

Doors dotted the side every now and then, but he knew that the Command Centre was directly in the middle so he kept in a straight line. Only a five minute walk later and he walked through one of the entrances to the Command Centre. The room was circular, with a chair in the middle and several Flexiplax monitors around it. Surrounding that was a circle slightly elavated above the command chair. Behind that, a second story stood above the rest, and no monitors or consoles were there, he knew they were for observing. To one side of the room stood Maggie Harper and the Lt. Harper had opened her mouth to say something but all that he heard was a high pitched squealing. He thought it odd for Harper to be screaming, but then suddenly the sound cut through the outlaying mind of the Admiral and straight to the militarized part of his brain. His body reacted to it a split second before he knew what was happening. He had jogged straight over to the Command Chair. Around him, personnal had exploded into activity manning consoles and shouting things to each other over the blaring alarm which had turned from the screaming to a simple loud beeping.

As soon as he had sat down, the monitors had jumped to life. They showed him a wealth of knowledge about the ship. The top left monitor had a double screen. One of them was a top down view of the anvil while the other showed a side on view. The lower left was a three-dimensional screen showing the immediate area around the ship, although it could be zoomed out to a range of thirty thousand kilometres. A large screen to the right showed every gun on the ship, its operational status, the ammunition gauges and the targetting data while a smaller screen underneath it showed the camera footage of all cameras on the hull of the Anvil. A small thin screen across the top was blank, but it was for any messages that couldn't be heard. Within a heart beat this all had happened, now Lincon had finally caught up with the events going on.

The Lt. was standing by his side, while Harper had manned the nearest console. Lincon pressed the touchscreen representing the Radar and zoomed out as far as the sensors could. Over fifty red dots appeared from the edge of the screen all in a tight formation, heading straight for the Space Station. He looked at the camera footage but saw nothing. Then out of the darkness he could see a horde of giant slabs of metal flying through the cold dead of space. He knew what had to be done.

"Disengage the clamps, have full engine power ready!" He shouted, not looking around.

Closer the objects came.

On the top screen a message scrolled across quickly saying the ship was disengaged from the Space Station. A second later another message came saying the engines were ready. "Full thrust forward!" Lincon shouted. He felt himself flatten against the back of his seat slightly and saw through the camera footage that the Space Station was falling behind. "Swing us around starboard, I want a full port side coverage on the direction the projectiles came from!" He shouted as he zoomed the radar in to see the projectiles better. He felt it as the ship turned to his desired place. There was still nothing on the radar from where the projectiles came from.