From: rrc3813@yahoo.com (MKSheppard) Newsgroups: alt.startrek.vs.starwars Subject: [FANFIC] Imperial Phoenix Gold : Prologue Date: Thu, 02 Sep 2004 04:42:12 GMT Imperial Phoenix Gold - A Fanfic Rewrite Prologue *Kersis System, Outer Rim* The escape pod tumbled slowly, end over end, transmitting a plaintive wail from it's homing beacon. After almost two weeks in space, nearing the end of it's battery life, the beacon was finally heard. >From out of the darkness of space, a bulky shuttlecraft carrying the New Republic's logo on it's stabilizer fins with the words BRAXTANT SECTOR SEARCH AND RESCUE emblazoned below the logo. On board the craft, the pilot exchanged choice words with his co-pilot, over the condition of the pod. "Kriff, that thing's really blasted up. Must have been a dicey ejection." "Yeah. I'm reading only one life sign aboard; very faint. Activicating docking procedures now." replied the co-pilot. The grasp of a tractor beam reached across the gulf between the pod and the shuttlecraft. Slowly, the pod began to draw closer to the docking port on the underside of the shuttle as the shuttle rotated to bring the docking port in alignment with the escape hatch of the pod, all the while the laser cutting heads on the docking port were readied just in case. Moments later, the shuttle and the pod mated with a muted thump that reverberated through both of the craft. While they waited for the decontamination lasers to finish running over the pod's escape hatch, the medical crew on board the shuttle began suiting up. You just couldn't be paranoid enough; Hive viruses were nasty things. "Think we got a live one here, or just a Mrrshan that's been eating it's master's body for the last two weeks?" cracked the MedTeam leader. Working on SAR missions tended to desensitize one rather fast to the horrors of death. "Dunno. You owe me ten if it's a live one." another MedTeam member replied, to which everyone else, the pilots included, responded with, "You're on." A beep signalled that the decontamination system had finished it's work, and a green light began to glow on the docking port control panel. "Let's do it." As the hatch opened, the stench of foul air rolled into the shuttle, causing everyone to gag involuntarily. "Kriff, that's fucking _rancid_!" Inside, still strapped into their seats, blood congealed on their horrible wounds, were corpses wearing the uniform of the New Republic Fleet. As the rescuers gazed on the horrific sight, one of them moved weakly. "Look! He's still alive!" The survivor coughed up a gobbet of bright red blood, and tried to speak, causing the medtechs to rush him. "Don't move! Don't waste your energy, we'll fix you right up!" shouted the lead Medtech. The crewer ignored the medics, and continued coughing up blood. Reaching out with a bony hand, he grabbed the lead Medtech on the shoulder and pulled him to his mouth. "Sh...Sh...Sheppard." he croaked out in a strangled gasp before the life went out of his eyes. *Federation Arms Committee room - Senate Building - San Francisco, Earth, January 23rd 2370* Senator Thomas Stravo stood before his fellow committee members, and began his speech. "Gentlebeings, these new reports out of the Klingon Empire and Romulan Star Empire are very disturbing. The Block II _Negh'vars_ are over 750 meters long, and dwarf our biggest ships, the _Sovereigns_. Meanwhile, rumors are emerging that the Romulans have begun construction of a ship that dwarfs even these beasts." "I'm sure you all remember the Dominion War, where the ships that were constructed under the _Dominion Bill_, despite being strenuously opposed by many on this committee, were the only things standing between Earth and the Dominion." "We cannot rely on Federation industry to build ships _only_ when we are at war, Senators. We _must_ have those ships ready _before_ the war starts." "That is all," finished Stravo as he took his seat at the committee's table. Another man rose to speak. Stravo sighed inwardly. Senator Kast was one of the strongest opponents of a rational buildup of military strength to protect the peoples of the Federation from the enemies which lurked in the darkness of interstellar space. "I have this Note, delivered personally from the Klingon Emperor himself, that assures us that those _Negh'vars_ are to be used only on the Romulan frontier, and will not be deployed against the Federation!" shouted Kast, who took a pause to catch his breath before he continued with more bombast. "Furthermore, I have this report, written by the Senate Budgetary Office, which proves that PellCorp took advantage of the waves of construction ordered heedlessly and without regard for fiscal oversight to rake in obscene amounts of profits! Why should we give those Ferengis in disguse another chance to rob the people of the Federation blind once more?" The sound of a fist banging down on a table interrupted Kast's tirade. Everyone looked over to see the grey-haired patriarch of the PellCorp colossus, Charles Pellegrini rising from his seat in the back of the Committee room. "That's utter garbage! I have here, a report compiled from the official shake-down cruises and routine engineering reports from PellCorp-constructed starships. In every case, the captains and engineering officers all unequivocally state that our starships are superior to the government produced ones." "We may cost more, but you get _quality_, as opposed to sheer garbage. And I would like to remind the committee members of what happened when PellCorp was removed as the primary drivetrain contractor for the _Galaxy_-class!" A hushed silence filled the room. Nobody liked to admit that having PellCorp shut out from their traditional engineering integration contract with Starfleet for the _Galaxy_-class and their subsequent replacement by a Starfleet-led team from Utopia Planita had led to massive core problems with the Block I _Galaxies_, including several preventable LOSes (Loss of Ship). Kast stood there, knocked off his carefully written tirade by Pellegrini's counter-accusation, and was saved by the voice of the Chief Senator of the Committee announcing that this day's meeting was adjourned. _Damn him, he made me look like a god-damned fool! I'll get him back, somehow..._ fumed Kast as he gathered up his datapads. He had a meeting in an hour with Leah Brahms, who was unhappy about her team being shut out of the latest engineering contract by those Ferengis at PellCorp. *Kileak System, Imperal Remnant* High Admiral Michael Wong (retired), grumbled as he tinkered with the open innards of a holovid tank with a hydrospanner. Damned thing had gone on the fritz in the middle of a particularly good sex disc. Another tweak with the hydrospanner caused the hyperwave tuner to get back on track, albeit not on the channel he'd been watching before. Some pretty newsanchor was talking about some strange new alien invasion in the Outer Rim, and how the New Republic was sending a fleet to check it out. "Newfie idiots will probably screw this one beyond all belief," growled Wong as he turned off the holovid in frustration. Imperial Phoenix Gold - Chapter 1 *ISS Revenger, Somewhere in the Outer Rim* Admiral Mark Sheppard sighed as he looked around his shattered bridge. That Bothan Assault Cruiser had come out of nowhere, and had tried their damndest to destroy them; it was only the brave actions by "Donuts" Dalton and his TIEs that had saved their asses. Now, they were fleeing through the starless space that made up most of the Outer Rim, where systems were easily a hundred light years away from each other. A noise came from the sensor pit below him, and Sheppard looked into the face of Chief Petty Officer Bucher, who was in charge of the sensors. Normally, that'd be a Lieutenant's job, but they were so damned short handed... "ComScan is picking up faint energy traces in the Fendar system, just off our port bow." "How powerful's the trace?" "Not big, sir, it keeps fading on and off our sensors." Nodding, Sheppard turned around and faced his second-in-command, Vice-Admiral Glasgow. "Your opinion?" "Probably a heavily shielded smuggler base. No one will give a rusty kriff if we hit 'em." Sheppard considered it for a moment before replying. "Good. We need supplies, and badly. We're down to the 'hundred year' consumables in the mess. I can't stand that shit anymore." *Task Force Black Knight HQ - an undisclosed location -January 24th 2370* Rear Admiral Jonathan Boyd looked at his comrade in this murky twilight world, Admiral Alex Sutton. Sitting in front of them at the head of the table was the man known only as 'Sloan'. Nobody knew who the fuck he was, or where he came from. "Admirals, Section 31 is in need of your services once again. The Klingons and Romulans look like they're starting to kiss and make up again. This is clearly unacceptable from a strategic standpoint. The Federation needs them to hate each other, so they will divert manpower and ships to looking over each other's borders." "I don't like the sound of where this is going, Sloan," replied Boyd. "You don't have to like it, Admiral. Because you're going to do it for the greater good of the Federation." With that, Sloan threw a datapad over the table to Boyd. "Your target, Admiral. The Klingon world of Hkraakh. Four hundred million Klingons. Major manufacturing center for disruptor crystals. I want it destroyed in a week, and I want it to look like the Romulans did it." Boyd shifted uneasily in his seat. "Do we really have to do this? Can't we blow up a few ships at random instead of an entire world?" "We've tried that, Admiral. They seem to accept it as the price of a heavily militarized border." "I suppose...we can take one of the _D'deridex_ warbirds that we recovered during the war for this job. We're running out of original photon torpedoes for them though." "We can always get more," replied Sloan in a voice which caused the temperature of the room to drop several degrees. *Pellegrini Estate, Earth - January 24th 2370* "Father, why do you play this dangerous game with the Federation?" asked Carl Pellegrini, the 23-year old son of Charles Pellegrini, and heir apparent to the family business. "There are plenty of governments who would want PellCorp in their territories...such as the Cardassian Hedgemony. Hell, those guys have let even the _Orion Pirates_ settle there!" "Carl, Carl..." muttered Charles. "If we moved to the Cardassian territories, we would lose nearly all of our contacts in Starfleet, and the Federation's government. Contacts which we have built up over decades. No. We shall suffer their indignities for only a little while longer." "You've said that ever since the Nationalization Decree of 2348! How much longer do we have to wait?" "Not much longer, my son. Soon, it shall be time to make our move." *ISS Revenger, Outer Limits of the Fendar System* Sheppard listened as CPO Bucher shouted out from the pit that they'd localized the emissions to the second planet of the system. "Shall I lay in a course?" asked Lt. Commander Mike Gillis, the _Revenger's_ OOW for this watch. "No. I've got a strange feeling about this. Send the TIE Droids instead." *Several minutes later* Sheppard watched as the bright engine glows of the TIE Droids faded into the black starfield as they accelerated away from their mother ship. "Approaching the asteroid belt between the second and third planets." came the voice of CPO Bucher as he monitored the readouts from the TIE Drone. "Picking up debris." "What kind of debris?" "All kinds, sir. Most of it's of alloys used in civilian craft, along with some alloys used only by the Rebels." Suddenly, a howl of static rose from the control panel in the Pit from where they were controlling the TIE Droids. "They're gone, sir." "What happened?" demanded Sheppard. Bucher studied the readouts for a few moments before replying. "Sir, before the loss of all the TIEs, they picked up large energy readings from inside the belt, probably from hidden guns emplaced on the asteroids themselves." "Good," replied Sheppard, drawing several puzzled stares from the men around the bridge. "This is no smuggling base," added Sheppard. "Kriffing right, sir." "They're protecting something. Something important." chimed in Glasgow. Sheppard considered his options for several moments, before deciding on a course of action. "Have tractor control grab one of those asteroids. A big one. One a _lot_ bigger than this ship. Burn a hole big enough to hide this ship in it with our main battery. We'll snuggle up into there, and fire our main engines long enough to get us on a course that will take us through the field and near the second planet before we die of old age." "Then we shut down. Go cold. It'll take a day or two to get close enough to that planet. Tell General Schmidt to begin drilling his troops. Their services will be needed soon." Imperial Phoenix Gold - Chapter 2 *ISS Revenger - The Fendar System* Lt. Commander Gillis walked across the darkened bridge of the _Revenger_ and looked out the window towards the blackness of the huge bubble that the ship had been hiding in for the last two days as it drifted towards the planet. He barely noticed CPO Bucher walking up behind him until Bucher announced his presence. "Chief Petty Officer Bucher, reporting for duty, sir." "Damnation, do you have to speak so loud? We're in a power-down sequence!" replied Gillis in a hushed tone of voice. Bucher fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Sir, with all respect to the Lieutenant Commander, perhaps he hasn't noticed that we are sitting in a armoured citadel which can resist turbolaser blasts, and outside these walls is a vacuum. Somehow, I don't think even an officer's voice can carry that far in hard vacuum." "Damnit, Bucher, I've told you before, don't make an ass of me in front of the men!" "Sorry, Sir." replied Bucher with a faint smirk. "Break it off you two," came a voice from behind them. They both turned around to see Line Captain Paul Howedar looking at them with an amused look on his face. "Sorry sir," replied the two rivals as they saluted simultaneously. Howedar watched the two of them walk away before shouting out orders to begin the power up sequence. It wasn't very often that he got to command the _Revenger_, even though he was her captain, due to the fact that either Sheppard or Glasgow was always around on the bridge, and you always deferred to an admiral. Above his head, the faint blue emergency lighting went out as the cool white normal lighting came on, and status displays all over the bridge came to life. _God, I love this job._ *ISS Revenger, Flag Plot, Deck 20* Flag Plot on an _Imperator_-class Star Destroyer was truly a thing to behold. Deck after deck all devoted to an Admiral's staff, with even a throne room for the Emperor, in case Palpatine ever felt the need to personally come aboard one of his Star Destroyers. In one of the numerous briefing rooms, Sheppard and Glasgow were conversing, while their assistants walked around in the background, checking background information that the two admirals demanded from time to time and coming back with answers. "I think I know what that planet is." said Glasgow confidently. "What?" "You know all about Mount Tantiss." "Unfortunately." "Well, there have always been rumors that Tantiss wasn't the only storehouse, which makes sense; as Palpatine would have demanded a backup plan, such as the Galaxy Gun design, which would have replaced the Death Stars if the Empire hadn't fallen apart." "Makes sense," murmured Sheppard. He watched as Glasgow slowly got up. "No. No. Let Paul have command this time; he doesn't need to have us old fogies always stealing it away from him." Glasgow sat back down in his seat. "What now, then?" "We watch as General Schmidt goes and gets us our toys." *ISS Revenger, Main Troop Briefing Room, Deck 130* General Charles Schmidt looked at the officers gathered around the holotank and rubbed his chin. It'd been a long time since they did a ground assault. Hopefully nobody would kriff up catastrophically. Gathering his breath, he began the briefing. "Men, we will be executing a ground assault today, with a reinforced repulsorlift company to investigate some mysterious anomalies on the planet below. The planet is listed on our charts as being uninhabited, so we don't expect resistance." "Even so, we'll be treating this as a assault against defended territory. The anomalies we're to investigate lie within a five kilometer radius of each other, so we don't have much ground to cover today." This bought a cheer from the gathered troopers. "Now, for the environmental conditions at the surface. It's a nice warm -20 Celsius, so those Snowtrooper suits we swiped will be the order of the day. If you come under hostile fire, don't be a hero. Take cover and call in fire support from the armour platoon, or if it's bad enough, get the Revenger on line for some multi-gigaton orbital fire support." Everyone cheered even more loudly at that. Everyone knew the story about their General, and how he was notorious for massive unneeded displays of firepower. Almost a decade ago, he'd been a High General, answerable to no one except the local Moff. But that was before he'd razed a forest that was full of Rebels using AT-ATs chained together to clear multi-kilometer stretches of forest at a time. But that wasn't enough for Schmidt. He'd ordered his men to use L-42 defoliant, which was banned on most every civilized planet. It had gotten rid of the Rebels' tree cover allright, but that forest had been the private hunting preserve of the Moff for that Sector. So down he went in rank to a mere General and had been ejected into a backwater posting in the Outer Rim, where he pushed around misfits while the Empire collapsed. A few more minutes were spent while Schmidt detailed the individual platoons and what they were to do. Finally, he was done. "That concludes our briefing. Does anyone have any questions about anything?" No one raised their hands, and Schmidt smiled at that. He'd trained his boys well. "Good. We launch in ten minutes." Imperial Phoenix Gold - Chapter 3 *Surface of Fendar II* Slowly, the cargo door of the landing craft opened onto a desolate landscape, and howling winds filled the craft's bay, tearing at the sides of the AT-AT inside the cavernous bay. The AT-AT was suddenly picked up by the LCA's internal loading crane and lowered onto the ground outside, where it slowly unkneeled and stood up. The walkers carried by the _Revenger were no ordinary stock AT-ATs. They had been modified through hard-earned experience to carry thicker armor along with a pack of VLS cells for Merr-Sonn PLX-2Ms so they could provide their own organic indirect fire support, and not be limited to line of sight fire like an ordinary walker. Behind the heavy AT-ATs, the smaller repulsorlifts carrying most of the troops followed, their repulsorfields barely disturbing the snow underneath them, while the AT-ATs left their customary deep footprints. Leading this deadly assortment of armour was a remote-controlled TIE Crawler, which crunched through the snowdrifts well ahead of the reinforced company as a sacrifical lamb. As the crawler crested a ridgeline, a brilliant green bolt leapt out of the mist, and speared it dead center, vaporizing it in a ball of indecandescent gasses. >From his command post in the lead AT-AT, Schmidt looked at the dissipating fireball from the crawler. "Well, we've found the enemy," he remarked, as he reached and clicked on the commlink to the _Revenger, which was orbiting just over their heads in a geoschrynous orbit. "Get me Commander Degan. We are in need of his turbolasers." A voice crackled in Schmidt's helmet. "_Revenger fire control here." "Schmidt here. I have a fire request for you. I want grid squares 121, 122, 123 and 124 wiped off the map. One megaton per strike, I want the surface scoured clean of all non-hardened hostiles." "Roger, request recieved. Fire mission being computed....on it's way in fifteen." As the repulsorlifts and AT-ATs dropped to the ground to minimize the effects of the airblasts from the turbolaser strikes, several bolts of brilliant green fire lanced through the wind-swept sky and impacted the ground, sending shockwaves that rumbled through the vehicles, and lit the sky up with brilliant light from the thermal flashes when the bolts struck solid targets. When the shockwaves had faded, Schmidt ordered the advance to continue. As they crested the ridgeline, the macro-optical scanners in the AT-ATs picked up the charred, melted stumps of what had previously been gun turrets sticking out of the smooth blackened craters that were the result of turbolaser strikes. A few kilometers beyond the craters was massive blast door dug into the side of a hill. "I guess that's what we're after." muttered one of the pilots driving the AT-AT. Schmidt merely nodded. "Charlie platoon, get your ass up there and peel that door open!" he shouted over the Company comchannel. Charlie platoon was the assault platoon, and they toted around heavy weapons and demolition charges that could make short work of any fortification, if they could get close enough to it. That looked like it wouldn't be a problem. Suddenly, the door ground open, and sunlight gleamed off the beetle-browed carapices within as several platoons' worth of X-1 Vipers swarmed forth. "KRIFF! KRIFFF!" screamed Schmidt as he saw them swarm forth, firing their heavy arm-mounted cannons, which could put a dent in even AT-ATs. "FIGHTING WITHDRAWAL!" he shouted, even as he raised Degan on the fire support link. "DEEGAN! TWENTY KILOTON CREEPING BARRIAGE RIGHT THE KRIFF NOW ON GRID SQUARE 152!" At that moment, the AT-AT shook from a heavy blaster bolt from one of the Vipers, it couldn't penetrate the armor at this range, but it was enough to shake everyone up. And then the Fist of God began raining down from above their heads... *Arnatis IV, somewhere in the former Demilitarized Zone between the UFP and Cardassians - January 26th 2370* Nathan Fortner looked at the man who was sitting at the back of the bar. Could it be him? Well, there was only one way to find out... "That seat there taken, partner?" The man looked up at Nathan, and he could see that the man's eyes were the eyes of someone who had seen far, far too much combat. "No. It isn't taken." Nodding, Nathan sat down next to the man. "You see much combat during the War?" "Some." "I flew off the USS _Lexington_, one of the new _Ranger_-class carriers during the war, I saw a lot of action up and down the Chin'toka chain, and after the war, I returned home. You?" "I spent most of the war right here, fighting the Cardies," replied the man. _Ah, could it be him?_ thought Nathan. Nathan cleared his throat slightly. "I...ah...represent a group of people who are slightly...displeased with the way the Federation has ignored the way that the Cardies have let the Orions ravage their way through the DMZ from Cardie worlds." "So? My war's over. I don't need a new one." replied the man. Nathan sighed. His boss had said that the man would be hard to convince. "Valdemar said you'd be a tough one." The man looked up at the mention of the name. "Bullshit," he replied, and in a flash, a knife was at Nathan's throat. "How do I know you're just not name-dropping?" "Valdemar also said you'd be like this; so he told me about Operation Babylon. How you infiltrated the Cardie sector headquarters and blew away their head Admiral like it was a stroll through the park." Slowly, Nathan felt the pressure on his throat from the knife ease up, until it was gone. "Keep talking." "We need a man of your calibre, Mister Wilson. The Federation has been breathing down our necks rather heavily as of lately. We need them off our backs. We don't care how you do it." Wilson merely nodded as he got up from the table. "I'll think about it," was the cryptic reply. Imperial Phoenix Gold - Chapter 4 **ISS Revenger, Flag Plot, Deck 20** The commlink on the table chirped; causing Sheppard to reach over and activicate it. "Sheppard here," he replied. "Schmidt here. We've cleared the area of hostiles with orbital fire; hostiles appear to have been X-1 Viper wardroids." "Sithspit," muttered Sheppard. "Lose anyone?" "No, only light casualties from broken bones caused by our men being knocked around in the AT-ATs when they came under weapons fire." "Good." Turning to Glasgow, Sheppard spoke. "Looks like your theory was right after all. No two-bit smuggler would have that many X-1s. Only the Empire in it's glory days could have afforded that many." "But how did they hide all that hardware for all these years? Tantiss stayed hidden for so long because it was just a Dark Jedi walking around, and not a massive military base spewing energy all over the galaxy. Which seems to be the case here, what with all of these droids and gun emplacements." Sheppard hit the commlink button again. "Schmidt, investigate that base, I want an answer to why nobody ever detected this until now." "Sir, we're having problems getting the door open, that last orbital bombardment jammed it into position, we can't get it open." "Then blow it open, General." "Yessir." "Wait! I want whatever's inside intact, General. No playing with proton warheads." "Damnit." **Fendar II** Schmidt lowered his hand away from his helmet in disgust. Damnit. Oh well, orders were orders. "Charlie platoon, bust that door open!" he shouted over the comnet. Stormtrooper Lieutenant Magi nodded and motioned for his platoon to move forward. It was time to play with high explosives and have fun. **Fifteen Minutes Later** "FIRE IN THE HOLE!" shouted Magi just before he pushed his thumb down onto the detonator trigger in his hand. The earth rumbled beneath their feet and smoke and flame roared into the sky as the shaped charges they'd placed on the door detonated. When the smoke and dust cleared, the door was still standing there, severely dented where the charges had gone off. "Kriff." **ISS Revenger, Flag Plot, Deck 20** "Sir, we've detected a large explosion in the vinicity of the entrance, sir." crackled the voice of CPO Bucher over the commlink. "How big?" asked Sheppard. "Less than a kiloton, sir." "Good." The comlink beeped once more. "Schmidt here; we're having problems cracking that door. Request permission to double the explosive charges." Sheppard pondered this for several moments. "Granted." **Fendar II** "DOUBLE THE CHARGES!" shouted Schmidt. Magi nodded, and looked at the door with a critical eye. They'd put a couple kilotons of force on that door, and it had merely dented it. This was going to need some thinking.... Calling together his platoon, he announced his new plan. "Guys, I want a frame charge on that door, stuff a couple kilotons worth of charges around the door, and a few kilotons in the center, we'll blow that bitch in like it wasn't there." Once the charges were emplaced on the charred door for the second time, everyone scampered away to safe firing positions, and the cry went out once more: "FIRE IN THE HOLE!", and the world shook once more with sound and fury. As the smoke slowly faded, it revealed a gaping hole where the door had once stood. Smiling underneath his Snowtrooper helmet, Schmidt motioned with his hands for one of the other platoons to search the interior of the base for hidden traps. He just couldn't afford to lose his only assault platoon. They were far too good at their work, and he had no source of replacements. Several minutes later, they reported back in, saying there were no traps they could find, and that there were no casualties. "Allright, lets get out of this damned wind. It's annoying." shouted Schmidt, motioning for everyone to move into the base. Even Snowtrooper suits started to let the cold in after a while, much less suits that had been patched together over and over. As they stepped inside the door, past the shattered entrance section that had been ruined by the blast of the shaped charges, everything was working like it had been empty for only ten minutes, rather than abandoned for nearly twenty years. The lights were burning brightly, and small mouse droids scuttled underneath their feet, already vainly attempting to clean up the debris from the door. At least that explained why there was no dust on the floor. As they moved deeper into the base, they saw cargo bay doors labelled clearly as "Droid Parts Storage". "That's bullshit." muttered Schmidt. "Check it out." One of the troopers walked to a door and pushed the open stud. With the whine of well-oiled hydraulics, the door opened, and the lights inside the cargo bay snapped on, revealing a full squadron of TIE Defenders hanging from the ceiling, their distinctive tri-winged silhoulette unmistakeable. "Sithspit," muttered the trooper as he turned around and motioned for the officers. **ISS Revenger, Flag Plot, Deck 20** The comm bleeped again, only this time it was Glasgow who answered it. "Yes?" "Schmidt here, we're finding a lot of stuff here, from TIE Defenders to Missile Boats, along with a lot of advanced manufacturing equipment, stuff we haven't seen ever since the Fall." "Why is it no one knew about this base before us?" "Oh, that. The techs are reporting that a cloaking shield was used to hide the base's emissions, but due to a clerical error when this base was orginally staffed, a crucial piece failed, and there was nothing on base that the maintenance droids could use to repair it." "Lucky for us. Our colonization idea may not be as risky as we'd originally thought." **Kharo II, UFP Frontier HQ, along the old DMZ - January 27th 2374** The transporter chiefs manning the console looked at each other wearily. Another transport before their shift was over. Damnit. "Right. Let's get this one over with." "Energizing." As the figure of the humanoid they were beaming over appeared on the pad in a shimmery translucent form, alarms began going off everywhere. "Shit! Biofilter's not interfacing properly with the pattern buffer! We're getting corruption here!" "Compensate!" "I can't!" "Shift him to another transporter room!" "I CAN'T!" As the transport continued, even more alarms began to blare; and with a final convulsive set of alarms going off, the figure materialized fully on the pad; a quivering mass of flesh turned inside out, which stood upright before collapsing with a guttural moan. **Kharo II, UFP Frontier HQ - Office of the late Admiral John Clark** Wilson deftly ran his hands over the laptop datareader in the late admiral's office, deftly erasing all the evidence of resurgent Maquis activity in the former DMZ with a few touches of his hand after guessing the late admiral's passcode after a few tries. He'd already cleaned out the admiral's private quarters minutes ago; now all he had to do was inform the computer core to write over the erased data fifty times with random garbage before removing all trace of him in the system's access log. Well, he was done here. Time to get out before they came to lock down the admiral's quarters for the post-accident investigation. It had been so easy to exploit that bug in the biofilter's programming, not many knew about it; and even fewer knew how to exploit it. **PellCorp Pantex Plant, Texas, Earth - January 27th 2374** Both Pellegrinis walked down the gleaming antiseptic assembly line where a good 20% of Starfleet's photon torpedoes were made. Final assembly of the system, with deuterium and anti-deuterium slugs was done off site at a secured Starfleet station well beyond the orbit of Pluto. "Good to hear about your assignment to the Valkyrie, Carl." "Thanks." "It's time to begin, son. We've waited long enough." Carl immediately stiffened upon hearing those words. "So early?" "Yes. The Federation is starting to look too closely into the affairs of the Maquis in the former DMZ. If they look any closer, I fear they shall find out things they do not need to know." "I'm still a bit unprepared, Dad. I don't know who I can trust on the Valkyrie, it's a new assignment." "Don't worry. You won't be asked to do your part yet. The wheels have started to turn, however." Imperial Phoenix Gold - Chapter 5 ISS Revenger, Flag Plot, Deck 21 Every officer of significance was clustered in the auditorium, along with several of the civilian leaders who had elected to join Sheppard and follow him into Wild Space six months ago. In the podium at the center of the auditorium, Commander Kazuki Shimazaki, who wore the gold stripes of the Imperial Naval General Staff on his trousers, was briefing everyone on the importance of the depot. "Greetings, everyone. I am here to explain to you the implications of our recent discoveries in what is being called the Fendar II Depot. What we've found in the depot simply staggers the imagination. Two full wings of TIE Defenders and a missile boat wing, to begin with." "Excuse me," broke in Sheppard. "But I thought the majority of missile boats built had been destroyed in putting down Admiral Zaarin. So what the kriff is a full wing of them doing here?" "They were. Obviously the Emperor was farsighted enough to plan ahead. From what general files I have managed to recover from the depot's computers, this was one of several dozen other depots built all over the Galaxy during the later years of his reign, to provide pre-positioned equipment for his praetorian guard. " This time, it was Glasgow who interrupted. "Do you have the locations of the other depots?" "Unfortunately, no. Palpatine was very paranoid. It appears after the Zaarin fiasco, he began thinking seriously about how to crush any future rebellion against his rule by his own officers, and also about ensuing that the advanced technologies of the TIE Defender and Missile Boat remained firmly under his control." Shimazaki paused, and took a sip of water before continuing. "The solution he came up with, as far as what I've been able to piece together, was to have these depots filled with the best technology, whether it be ground vehicles, starfighters, or manufacturing equipment, to allow a entirely-self contained strike force to appear out of nowhere, crush the uprising, and then disappear back into the darkness. The only requirements for the strike force would have been to have fast couriers to transport the personnel to the depot; from there on, they would use the depot's equipment to crush the uprising quietly, with no additional support needed from the Navy or Army." A pause. "This also means we have come into control of enough ground vehicles to equip two complete mobile corps, as well as the transports to move it." The auditorium erupted into a sea of voices, everyone arguing what this meant to their plans, until Debi Caroc, one of the civilians who had chosen to join their group, walked up to the podium and cleared her voice. Slowly, the roar of conversations in the auditorium died down to a low murmur. "Thank you all for paying attention. I have information that you need to know; which is as important as Commander Shimazaki's. In room 18B of the depot, we found several piles of unidentified wreckage." A holo image of the wreckage began to float in the center of the auditorium, many times larger than life-size, and everyone could see the strange markings on it, a arrowhead, and markings reading out USS Ranger, NCC 12341. "I searched our computers for any kind of markings which matched these, and came up with blanks. The material that this wreckage is made out of is also very primitive from what the engineers tell me. And in my professional interpetation as an anthropologist, this clearly was not made by any interstellar culture at all in this galaxy." Caroc paused to let this sink in, and to let her audience ask questions. "So where did it come from, then?" asked Sheppard. "We've found that a large portion of the data in the depot's computer system is encrypted behind security level black," replied Debi. A hushed pause gathered around the auditorium. Black was the second-highest classification level in the entire Imperial military. Only one level was even higher, open only to the Emperor himself. Since his death, that level had fallen into disuse. Sighing, Sheppard asked the inevitable question. "How long?" "Admiral, I have my best men working around the clock on this, and they tell me that we won't have it cracked for a few more days. Just too many permutations to run through, and we can only go so fast before we trip the self-erase routines," replied Lt. Commander Phong Nguyen, the Revenger's Electronics Division's head. Sheppard nodded. "Keep at it." At that moment, the General Quarters alarm began to wail, before it was abruptly cut off. Moments later, the OOW's voice came on the 1MC. "Talen here. The Vengeance has just arrived, along with her escorts." "Excellent. The others can't be far behind." Outer Edges of the Fendar System The mighty Imperator-class Star Destroyer, a gleaming city teeming with life in the eternal void of space smoothly accelerated away from her hyperjump point, escorted by the smaller shapes of her escorts, three CR90 Corvettes. Bridge, ISS Vengeance The tall figure stood at the bridge windows, staring at the blackness of space. Nobody wanted to approach the captain when he was meditating.The last time anyone had gone near him when he was in this mood, the unfortunate soul had gotten broken down all the way to buck spaceman. It was with good reason everyone tiptoed around Michael January. There were rumors that he'd been mentally unstable since the day his wife and children had been killed by a Rebel attack on a research center that they had had the bad luck to be walking next to when the bomb went off. So what everyone did when they needed to tell the captain something that wasn't critically important was to simply stand at attention until he finished meditating. Which was what Lieutenant Rye was doing right now. Finally, January finished meditating, and turned around, the dim red glow from his artificial eye playing across the young lieutenant's face. "Yes?" "Captain, we're on course to rendevous with the Revenger. At our present speed, we'll be there in ten minutes." Bridge, Corellian Corvette ISS Dagger The fly buzzed through the fetid air on the bridge of the corvette, until someone killed it with a flyswatter. The air fresheners had long ago given up the ghost, along with the anti-vermin systems. The crew of the Dagger simply cursed and went about their business like they always did. Lieutenant Arnad Katol, the captain of this besotted little ship, raised a cup containing an unidentifiable greenish liquid and swallowed half of the cup's content in a single gulp, so he wouldn't have to taste it any longer than possible. The crew was now down to the emergency rations, and if they didn't get any fresh food soon, there'd be a mutiny, he was sure of that. "Time to rendevous?" asked Katol. "Ten minutes, sir. And the word is, there'll be replenishments waiting for us there." At this, a low cheer ran around the bridge, before Katol cut it off with a glare at his crew. "Good. I can't stand this damnable green juice any longer." USS Bellerophon, NCC-87224, Sol System, January 27th 2374 Rear Admiral Timothy E. Jones stalked through the corridors of his flagship, his anger building. How dare that captain of all people, do this to him? Didn't he know that there was a fleet-wide review coming up? He finally came to the quarters he wanted, and entered them without any formalities. [size=18]"Captain Alyeska! What's the meaning of this?"[/size] Captain John Alyeska looked up from the PADD he was working on at the Admiral. "Meaning of what, sir?" "Why is the sensor department manned with only one officer? Regulations state that it must be manned with five people at all times!" Alyeska sighed. Not more bullshit from Jones. "Sir, with all due respect sir, we're in spacedock now, and there's no need for an full sensor watch, all we need is someone to keep an eye on the system to keep it from breaking down while in dock. Secondly, regulation states that sensor watch bills should have four people, not five." "I don't care! Get those people back on their job!" "But sir, they've already been granted leave shoreside." "Are you deaf, Captain. I said I want them back!!" "Yessir. I'll recall them immediately." This brought a smile to Jones' face, and he exited the quarters as abruptly as he had entered it. Back in his quarters, Alyeska waited until the doors had closed completely, before replying to the Admiral's back. "Fucking incompetent prick." Arnatis IV, somewhere in the former Demilitarized Zone between the UFP and Cardassians, January 28th 2374 Once again, Nathan was sitting in the bar, waiting for Wilson to show up. He was about to get up and leave after several hours of staring into the smoky interior of the bar, when he felt a hand on his back. "I did the job for you." Turning around, he saw Wilson standing in the shadows, a disruptor pistol trained square at his chest. "And a damn good job it was. Valdemar wanted me to send his compliments on your...creative method of dealing with the problem." Wilson's face remained unchanged. "Tell Valdemar that we're even now." With that, Wilson lowered the pistol and backed away. "Wait!" shouted Nathan, just before Wilson disappeared completely into the darkness. "Why should I do any more work for you? I saw enough killing during the war." Nathan licked his lips. Here was his big chance. "Do you remember when the Federation used to fight piracy?" "Depends." "Do you remember when the Federation used to imprison pirates instead of looking the other way in exchange for kickbacks?" "I have a vague recollection of that." "Do you remember when the Federation used to protect it's people, rather than looking the other way for fear of offending the other side?" "I remember something along those lines, yes." "Why should we lay down our lives for the Federation if they ignore our sacrifices once we're no longer desperately needed?" "Good question, son." "I can't tell you any more than this, unfortunately, I'm not high enough in the loop to know more. But I do know enough to ask you this; are you with us?" Wilson thought it over for several moments. They were asking him to betray the oath he'd sworn to uphold the Federation ten years ago at Starfleet Academy. On the other hand, the boy had a lot of good points. The various peoples of the Federation had surrendered their sovereignity to the Federation in exchange for protection. If the Federation was no longer listening or giving them protection, were those people bound by their oaths as Federation Citizens? He remembered an incident several years ago, of a woman pleading with them not to leave, when the Federation had transferred their colony in the DMZ to the Cardassians. Back then, he'd thought their sacrifice was merely for the greater good of the Federation, but now...he wasn't so sure. Wilson took a deep breath, and then uttered the words which erased a decade of service to the Federation and it's ideals. "I reckon so." Editors Note: Thanks much to the Mess for helping me develop Admiral Jones; they are providing me with real life examples of incompetence to elevate Jones to the level he so deserves as the original troll