Pulling Out The Strands	Part One	C'Donath leant back in his chair and sighed. Investigation into the terrorist group known as the renegades was slower than expected. His spies and informants were gradually disappearing, and more and more convoys and deliveries were getting plundered. Generals and leaders continued to demand information on the threat, ignoring how much trouble was involved for the data gatherers.
	The comm buzzed. "Lieutenant C'Donath? General Germin'atha wishes to speak to you."
	The Igadzri inwardly groaned. "Please tell him I'm sorry, but I have more pressing activities to attend to."	"Yes, sir"
	Germin'atha was the Minister for the Upper North Territories, where one group of the renegades had made their headquarters. An impatient Zidagaran, who seemed to ignore what others needed to do, he would take insult from C'Donath's reply, but the Lieutenant was beyond caring. The Strand Forces had never faced a danger such as this, and warships in the Crescent were reasonably scarce, providing easy pickings for renegades.
	Warships - another topic for High Command to bicker about. The council had been split on the decision to take funds from projects so more warships and other offensive weaponry could be created. The one project creating most of the disagreements was Operation Probe, contrived to explore systems to the galactic west and southeast. Rumours were spreading of red battleships patrolling the lower borders, and the Government was peeved they knew nothing.
	The comm buzzed again, breaking C'Donath's line of thought. "What is it?" he snapped.
	"Sir, the General insists that he meets with you. He claims to have important news."
	"Very well. Send him in." the intelligence officer acquiesced, cursing the persistent politician as he cleared his desk of reports, and prepared himself for another long meeting.

*//*

	As dawn hit the Gadzair capital of Huin'tali, C'Donath departed from his quaters and made his way to the Strand Intelligence offices. He entered his room, and was quick to spot the large package on his desk marked 'urgent.' The lieuntenant opened the package to reveal a document, with 'Southern Renegade Report' marked on it.
	"At last!" he cried, almost ripping off the cover in excitement.
	As time progressed, and C'Donath read more, the expression of glee gradually faded, changed to one of worry and slight shock. As soon as he had finished, he hit his comm. "Get me Head of Defence!" he said forcefully to his secretary.
	"Yes, sir."
	Half an hour later, Admiral Ran'oto'fai entered his office, breathing heavily from running half the distance. "You called, C'Donath?"
	"It seems we have a small crisis on our hands - Renegades are preparing to attack Histiri Station in the Mavs system tomorrow. The estimated strike fleet is thought to be approximatly ten Cresent Fighters and five Aradas, led by a Crescent Warship!"
	"How on earth did they get one of our prize battleships?" the Azdgarian exploded. "Are you sure your sources are correct?"
	"Positive. I only hire the best, you know that." snapped the intelligence officer. "There is also other confirmation. Yesterday General Germin'atha spoke to me, and reported that Crescent Warships had been sighted along the Northen Tip, attacking our convoys, and bearing Renegade markings."
	"You were planning to inform the rest of High Command of this?"
	"I already would've done so if this report hadn't arrived. What ships can you get to defend the station before the attack?"
	The Admiral consulted his secretary through his wrist-comm, then answered the intelligence lieutenant. "Three Warships and six Fighters. It might be enough... but then again it might not."
	"Bring it to High Command, and see what they say. You need their approval, anyway."
	"See you there, then. We start in one hour."
	"Yes, sir."

Part Two

	Squadron Leader J'mael Hin'tai, one of the most experienced pilots - in comparison to the rest of the fighter pilots under his command - prepared himself for his first major battle as the hyperspace counter gradually wound down. None of the members of the recently formed Strand Navy Force had spent too much time incinerating Renegade vessels, but already he was receiving praise for his efforts. Today would be the real test. Never before had Strand ships faced such a large rebel group. Apparently, there was even a Crescent Warship stolen from High Command to help attack Histiri station.
	Hin'tai slowly eased the lever into subspace mode, seeing white lines become stars again. Around his Arada, his fellow pilots appeared in the system, followed by the S.S.S. Avenger, the pride of the fleet, and two other Warships.
	Flicking through his scanner, he quickly hailed the lone trader already in the system. "Excuse me, S.S. Melbourne, this is Squadron Leader Hin'tai of the Strand Navy. You may wish to depart from this system rather soon, as a Renegade fleet is approaching."
	"Say What!? Thanks for the warning. I'll hot tail my little ship out of here right now. Good Luck!"
	"Thanks," replied Hin'tai dryly. They would need it.
	The small Miranu courier jumped out, leaving the fleet in silent, empty space, apart from hulls with the red emblem of the Crescent. "Okay, Alpha Squadron, report in."
	"Alpha One, ready."
	"Alpha Two, let's fry their carcases."	
	The Zidagaran, relaxing to the drone of his cohorts, stiffened in shock as the alarm caterwauled though the audio systems. "Strand Forces, this is it! Destroy the Renegades!"
	Six grey Aradas entered the system, followed by four Crescent Fighters. "Lock and load. Seems like they've forgotten their flagship!" cried one eager fighter.
	"Calm down, and keep a cool head. I want to minimise loses, okay?"
	The Strand fighters zoomed in at the fast approaching enemy. Hin'tai let loose an early Pursuit missile, then changed to Dispersion Rockets. Knock down their shields, and their sitting ducks. Using his afterburner, he dodged an oncoming missile, then spun around to hail yellow phase shots at the passing enemy. It returned for another strike, with the Squadron Leader meeting it half way. Letting out a rocket, he sideskidded, then sighted down his targets, and transformed the Arada into a burning hull. Around him his wingmen were accomplishing their mission, if not as swiftly.
	He swooped down towards a pesky Crescent Fighter. "Alpha Six, are you free?"
	"Right beside you Captain" called the pilot in his heavy Igadzri accent.
	"Pincer movement, ready?"
	"Let's blast him to pieces!"
	The two Aradas swung out to each side, almost in perfect formation.
	Then it was spoiled by two Pursuit missiles streaking towards Alpha Six, and reducing him to space ash.
	"What the...." Around him two Crescent Warships, accompanied by half a dozen fighters, swiftly moved towards the Avenger and proceeded in creating some mass damage. "This wasn't supposed to happen? Where the hell did those other ships come from? Wingmen, report in, NOW!"
	"Alpha Two, here."
	"Alpha Three, by your side."
	"Alpha Five, damaged, but still kicking."
	That was it? Hin'tai was shocked. Three of his wingmen consumed by fiery deaths in destroyed ships. Two Warships? High Command never even hinted at that.
	"Okay, Alpha Squadron, lets destroy one of those menaces to space society. Follow my lead."
	He sped closer to one of the large ships, letting off a missile before he reached attacking range. Three missiles followed the dust from his own. "Spread out, and use those rockets!"
	The four green Aradas edged their way towards the cruiser. Suddenly aware of fighters bearing down on it, the warship turned to face the oncoming threat, just in time for four dispersion rockets to attack it's hull. The Strand forces finished off the kill, although Alpha Two lost his shields, as the remaining two Crescent Warships made light work of the other Renegade flagship.
	As soon as their lead ships were destroyed, most of the rebel fighters hyperjumped, the slow ones becoming small pieces of fried metal.
	The debris clearing, Squadron Leader J'mael Hin'tai assessed the damage to each side. The S.S.S Avenger had been destroyed, along with four Arada fighters. On the Renegade dead list, two warships, seven Aradas and all four Crescent Fighters. A victory, but only just. How could he face High Command now?

Part Three
	C'Donath strided out of the council hall. Finally the bickering politicians had decided to detour funds into production of warships. It had taken the death of the S.S.S Avenger to persuade them, but now that the problem of a defence force had subisded, the intelligence officer could concentrate on his job.
	His Azdgarian secretary, Hornt'aik, looked up as C'Donath entered the office. "Ah, sir, another report has arrived. It's on your desk."
	"Thanks. Don't let anyone in, unless there is a very good reason. I don't want to be disturbed."
	"Yes sir."
	The Lientenant glanced around his office, and, spotting the data chip on his desk, inserted it into his communicator. "Lights out". The room was reduced to darkness. "Play Message".
	A light flickered, then a small image of a Zidagaran appeared. "Greetings, commander" she said. "Latest news from the north tip is that the Miranu have set up a defence fleet, known as the Zachit, or singularly, a Zacha. They have realised the new threat, and quickly have retaliated."
	C'Donath grimaced, the unintended barb sinking deep.
	"There is also something strange happening near New Mira. An increasing number of Renegade vessels have been sighted in the area. This makes it extremely hard to get spies in, but my best are working on it. I should have news of events, or, if unlucky, their deaths, in four days. Until then, Duran'dior out."
	Exentira Duran'dior, his best informant, who was his main force in the galctic north west region of the Crescent. At least someone could do their job properly. But what was going on in that area? The intelligence officer sighed, for what seemed the hundredth time, and pressed his comlink.
	"Hornt'aik, can you put me through to Germin'atha, please?"
	"Yes sir, just wait a moment."
	Seconds later, the line was subject to the Zidagaran's accent. "You wish to speak to me, Lientenant?"
	"Yes, General. I have recieved word that there is an increase in activity near New Mira. I was warning you, and also asking if there is any change in events, could i be notified."
	"This is surprising news. Thank you for your concern, and rest assured that i was forward any information regarding this threat to you."
	"Thank you, sir."
	C'Donath flicked his com back into standby, then returned to his desk, focusing his attention of the piles of minor reports stacked up.

*//*

	For Talihn K'gora, it was another typical day in space control. A slight increase in space traffic - those who were seeking refuge on the Crescent homeworld - but apart from that, everything proceeded as expected. Suddenly the klaxxons blared. A squadron of Crescent Fighters, marked with Renegade signals, entered the system. In two seconds, the port was a place of confusion and terror. Ships flew every which way to escape the oncoming threat.
	Talihn's eye was drawn to the image of a Crescent Transporter, gradually edging it's way out to space. The semi-dozen fighters swept in the sluggish ship's direction. As one, the renegades opened fire, reducing the Transporter to space ash.
	Then, as quickly as they came, the fighters left the system.
	The controller was astonished. Why did they only attack one ship, and even more, a Transporter?

*//*

	C'Donath was astonished too, when he heard the news, but for different reasons. How did the Renegades find out that General Germin'atha was using that ship as a secret transport to his head of command, the planet Zidigar? The lientenant was filled with dread as he made his way towards another council meeting. Who was the link, the informant? Who was the Traitor in the Council?

Part Four

	C'Donath sat, listening to the stressed voice of General Ji'tara, second in command of the Crescent Government. "The renegade threat is growing at an incomprehensible rate. We must move quickly if we are to end this ravaging of our systems and ships."
	"That's all very well to say, but don't forget, we do have a traitor in our midst," cried Lord Velor, considered the most outspoken member of the council. "He is in here now, plotting, gathering information. Who will be his next victim? What vital secrets will he tell?"
	"Steps are being taken," assured Ji'tara, the Igadzran rolling his eyes with his colleague's outburst. Which was true, C'Donath had no doubts. A full investigation of every member of the council was being undertaken at that very moment. Offices were being examined, documents checked. "It's only a matter of time," continued the General, his voice rising in volume. "The perpetrator in our midst will be found. And when he is, he will be publicly executed."
	His morbid comment created whispers of fear and surprise. It had been five hundred years - over two generations - since the last death sentence had been imposed, with the hanging of Nar'suida, the insurgent who lead rebel forces in the Rim Wars.
	The intelligence lieutenant groaned. The council could never function properly, especially during crises. He sighed. At least the chairs were comfortable.

*//*

	Newly Promoted Vice-Admiral of the Strand Fleet, J'mael Hin'tai sat in his office, pondering over the recent survey on working ships which were able to serve the navy. He grimaced as his eyes reached the total. Very few. That last battle had hit them hard, and, although not a huge number of craft were lost, the pilots that died on them was the hardest thing to replace. The Strand Society hadn't faced any threats such as this for close to a millenia. At least in the Rim War they knew where the enemy was.
	There was a knock at the door. "Enter" he said shortly.
	Head of Defence on the council and Hin'tai's superior, Admiral Ran'oto'fai strided into the room, his Azdgarian pride supporting his chin in the fight against gravity.
	"Yes, sir?"
	"Vice-Admiral, I want a full report on our ships by the end of the day."
	"I've almost finished."
	"Good. You're working well" the tall politician stated before leaving abruptly. Hin'tai shivered. He could almost touch the racial distaste in his commander's voice. Damn those Azdgarians, the Zidagar almost cried out loud. They would never recognise anyone as equals, he thought, before returning to the readouts from his computer.