It's 2244. The year has been less than wonderful. Their are many strange omens floating
about. Four large asteroidal fragments recently touched down in the Western ocean.
The craters, and the rocks that created them, have been nicknamed Death, War, Famine
and Pestilence, after the four horsemen of the apocalypse.

On the bright side, Morgan bank has started up a new, totally crime-proof form of 
transaction checking: gene tagging. Every six hundred and sixty sixth gene in the
double-helix of everyone on planet has been tagged with an identical print, a symbol,
a shape, a number, sometimes just a random collection of lines. The mark not randomly
produced, but assembled using a special code from the data already stored in the subject's
DNA. Effectively, the genemark told you what sort of person you were.

The second of these two things is really rather good news. Except, that is, for anyone 
who is a student of the book of revelation.

Sister Miriam got rather agitated. Well, you would too, if you were a devoted bible
basher (no offence to anyone out there) and you saw the end of the world coming.

Then came the meeting of the Planetary council. Everyone, of course, had to have their 
genemarks inspected before being allowed to enter. Deirdre, a tree. Lal, a dove.
Zakharov, a bulb bottom test tube. Miriam, a cross. Santiago, a dagger.

Yang, a pentagram.

Miriam shat herself. The final prophecy of the book of revelation had been fulfilled.
The Antichrist had arrived. Not only arrived, but set himself up as the tyrranic 
leader of a powerful faction.

The Hive and believers were soon at war.

The Peacekeepers and the Gaians were soon dragged in.

Yang bribed the Spartans into the fray with the promise of a large slice of the Peacekeeper
pie. Zakharov, outraged at this superstitious nonsense, quickly allied himself with the 
Hive and struck out against the others.

It was, no, IS, the final apocalyptic battle. There can be no peace, no draw; It's 
clobbering time!!!!