Massive storm systems swirled across the Earth’s atmosphere, the dark and brooding mass of clouds randomly flickering with lightning flashes. Here and there, rainbow light shimmered as radiation danced over the planet’s ionosphere, while fireballs flickered as bits and pieces of Lunar debris burned up in the air.
That, or the slagged remains of Federation starships.
Hulks and debris drifted across space, dancing with the inertia of the Battle of Earth just weeks, neither the Federation nor Starfleet having the time or resources to conduct even the basic cleanup. Not with the war going on. In the distance, the scarred corpse of the Moon somehow maintained orbit, a gaping blown into its face, its depths glowing a faint red with residual heat.
Ion engines blazed hot as a pair of TIE Fighters flew escort duty, flying alongside a Federation shuttle along a specially-cleared route, and towards the gleaming forms of the Imperial Fleet. Normally, the fleet would be arrayed in parade formation, but given the hazard of the Earth-Luna System, they were instead arrayed protectively, smaller ships screening the larger ships within the formation.
Explosions randomly flared in space as turbolasers blasted debris or hulks that got too close, while those small enough to not be a threat simply dashed themselves harmlessly against the fleet’s navigational deflectors. The fighters and the shuttle flew towards and into the formation, more fighters swooping in to join the escort as they approached the Imperial flagship, the Star Destroyer, Courageous.
The fighters peeled off even as the shuttle slowed, and came to a halt under the Star Destroyer’s cavernous hangar bay. Then it floated up, through the energy field that maintained the hangar’s atmosphere, and then slowly moved forward to the designated landing space, before landing with a soft thud.
Then the shuttle’s door opened, moments before the President of United Earth, Noel Boucher, stepped out, wearing a formal suit. A pair of Starfleet officers accompanied him, a nervous and twitchy lieutenant and a grim-looking read admiral who was the highest-ranking officer left in the Sol System after Fleet Admiral Shanthi and her command staff’s death in the Battle of Mars.
The Empire greeted their presence with all due decorum, Stormtroopers, Imperial Army troops, and even Imperial Navy armsmen in full battle gear standing in disciplined phalanges to either side of the hangar. Closer, and forming an aisle forward between them, there were twin files of Imperial officers standing to attention, the army and navy officers indistinguishable in their olive-grey uniforms, while the Stormtrooper officers stood out in their black uniforms.
Maintaining a stoic air between them, United Earth’s President and the ranking Starfleet officer stepped forward and down the aisle, to where a chair and table had been prepared. Documents and pens lay neatly on the table, while behind the table stood another file of Imperial officers, all flag-ranked, with the Commander of the Imperial Expeditionary Force standing front and center.
Admiral Jaenera of House Targaryen, Viscountess of Summerhall.
It was the first time anyone in the Federation or Starfleet had a full and clear view of the enemy commander, and she struck a beautiful and terrifying sight. Her eyes, especially, with their simply unnatural violet irises that seemed to have an inhuman sharpness to them.
It was enough to bring them up to a halt, and have the Starfleet lieutenant present to swallow dryly. Then bowing to the inevitable, President Boucher sat down, and briefly read the documents waiting for his signature. The words were all in what the Empire – the Coruscanti Humans – called the High Galactic alphabet and the Galactic Basic language, but which he otherwise knew as the Roman alphabet and the English language.
Fighting back the urge to cry, or to rage and leap at the Imperial butcher standing in front of him, President Boucher took the pen provided, and placed his signature at the indicated lines. Then standing, he stepped back, while Rear Admiral Jean-Marc Masse stepped forward in his turn to sit and sign.
After over two hundred years, so ended United Earth, all with a single scrap of paper.
The Instrument of Unconditional Surrender.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Even as United Earth was surrendering to the Galactic Empire, skirmishes continued to take place across the Sol System.
One such skirmish was taking place in interplanetary space near Uranus, where a trio of Imperial Vindictator cruisers were chasing down a Starfleet Prometheus. As much as the Empire hated to admit it, Starfleet warp drives had one advantage over hyperdrive. While so very much slower in comparison, they were much more precise, allowing planet-to-planet jumps which hyperdrive could not do.
At least, not without external assistance, as proven by the Targaryen Gambit.
That said, warp drive also had one major weakness: ships using them didn’t need to have a tracking device to be tracked through subspace. And while the Empire didn’t have – yet – subspace-tracking sensors, their new allies in Orion did. So when Fleet Admiral Nechayev commandeered the newly-completed Prometheus Class Medium Cruiser Mnemosyne, the Empire was quick to respond.
An interdictor cruiser forcibly dragged the Mnemosyne out of warp near Uranus, where an Imperial interception force waited. Almost immediately, the Mnemosyne went to what was called multi-vector assault mode…
…which didn’t really help much when the Empire had both superior numbers and firepower. In addition to the Vindicators and the interdictor, the latter was closely escorted by CR90s corvettes and Carracks. One of the Mnemosyne’s sections was quickly blasted apart by turbolaser fire as it attempted to take out the interdictor, with the second section destroyed as it tried to buy time for the Mnemosyne’s main section to get out of the interdictor’s range.
The three Imperial cruisers gave chase, turbolasers lashing out in precise volleys to knock out the Mnemosyne’s shields. The ship’s crew and computers desperately rerouted power to the shields to try and keep them active longer, but against turbolaser fire it just wasn’t enough.
As the ship’s shields failed, the lead Vindicator fired off a sustained volley from one of its ion cannons. This caused the Mnemosyne’s remaining nacelles to explode as the ship’s primary EPS relays blew out, knocking out main power and the main computer alike. A tractor beam then latched out, drawing the Mnemosyne in for boarding.
Aboard the ship, Section 31 commandoes and Starfleet Security rushed to form defensive positions, while Fleet Admiral Nechayev was hurried to the transporter room. It was a risk, but they needed to get her out of there. There was simply no telling how much the Empire had learned from all the Section 31 captives they’d taken at Orion, and Fleet Admiral Nechayev falling into Imperial hands simply could not be allowed.
Sparks flew from one of the ship’s entryways as Imperial troops began cutting their way into the ship, commandoes and security personnel alike bracing themselves while holding Type-2 and Type-3 Phasers to themselves. Then the door exploded inwards, moments before white-armored Stormtroopers burst in.
Orange pulses flew through the air as the Starfleet personnel opened fire, the leading Stormtroopers falling with cries of pain as their shields and armor failed against concentrated phaser fire. But more Stormtroopers were pouring through, the ones in front going prone to lay down suppressing fire, those behind them adding to the curtain while firing crouched. As more Stormtroopers arrived, they advanced by fire and movement, precise shots taking out any Starfleet personnel who tried to peek out from cover, before thermal detonators cleaned out the Starfleet positions.
The Stormtroopers advanced, leaving their wounded behind to be recovered and taken away for medical assistance. All across the ship, Imperial troops were boarding en masse, with the bridge falling especially quickly after the Stormtroopers blew through the ceiling with demolition charges.
Main engineering fell quickly as well, albeit with heavy Imperial losses: the Stormtroopers accidentally ruptured a plasma line, flooding the engineering space with plasma and killing everyone inside. This eventually forced Imperial engineers to go in with armored suits to close the line and secure the interior.
On the plus side, they were absolutely certain no one was hiding in any of engineering’s spaces, not when the whole place had been flooded with plasma.
Overall, it took only about three hours to fully clean out and secure the ship.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
A punch to the face.
“Where were you going?”
A punch to the gut.
“Where is Fleet Admiral Nechayev?”
A punch to the face.
“What was your plan?”
A punch to the groin.
“Tell us!”
“Fuck you!” the Captain of the Mnemosene spat in his interrogator’s face.
Another interrogator sighed. “Look, captain.” He began. “This doesn’t have to be hard.”
“Do your worst, Imperial dog!” the captain spat again. “I’m not going to talk, so you might as well…!”
He broke off abruptly as the first interrogator punched him in the gut again. “…Imperial…dog…” the captain wheezed. “…I’m…a prisoner of war…where’s your…Alderaan…Conventions…now?”
“The Alderaan Conventions only cover prisoners of war belonging to legitimate military forces.” The second interrogator explained. “And while Starfleet is a legitimate military force, you are Section 31, a group of fringe extremists disavowed by Starfleet and its parent Federation. In short, you’re not covered by the Alderaan Conventions.”
“And in other words,” the first interrogator said, grabbing the captain by the hair and pulling his head back. “You’ve no protections.”
He drew his fist back to strike…
…only to be restrained with a firm hand on his wrist by his fellow interrogator. “Come on, captain.” He began. “This isn’t going to end well for you. So just tell us what you know, and make it easier for yourself. It’s not like there’s much point in holding out, your core worlds have fallen, and the Federation practically done for already.”
“…yeah…sure…keep thinking that way, Imperial dog.” The captain spat, and causing both interrogators to blink in surprise. “But you’ll see soon enough. The Federation’s going to win this war…we’ll bring down your Empire…no way we can lose…regimes like yours always fall before us…history’s on our side…”
The two interrogators looked at each other, with the first one tilting his head. The second one just shook his head, then heading to the door, opened it. “Well…if that’s how you feel…” he said with a sigh. “…then I guess we’d best get serious.”
“Do your worst!” the captain shouted, before his eyes widened as a spherical droid floated into the room.
The second interrogator chuckled. “Oh, we will.” He promised. “And you’ll both wish you’d talked, and that I stayed in charge of interrogating you.”
The door slammed shut, and keeping the screaming inside.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I looked up from the report I’d received, looking at Sara with wide eyes. And to think I was just about looking forward to watching the victory parade down the Champs Elysees, through the Arc de Triomphe, and watching the Imperial flag fly from the Eiffel Tower.
Damn Section 31.
“Watch Station Argus…” I echoed with a sigh. “…well, I’m not surprised. They did have a prison for political and…cultural, prisoners on Pluto, so it follows they’d have some kind of…listening post, somewhere in Sol monitoring all subspace communications for various purposes.”
“Your orders, ma’am?” Sara said.
“Inform Admiral Tye of the Fifth Battlegroup to detach a force of ships to seize Watch Station Argus.” I said. “Also, when boarding the station, I want Spacetroopers to take the lead.”
Sara’s eyes went wide. “Spacetroopers, ma’am?” she asked in surprise.
“Yes, Spacetroopers.” I confirmed. “I’m not taking any chances. Winning this war is easy enough, just crush Starfleet, force Earth to unconditionally surrender, make treaties with everyone else, and everything else will follow. Winning the peace, though, now that’s hard.”
“With all due respect, ma’am, but is that what Plans Z and MO are for?”
“True…but Section 31’s existence complicates matters…hence a new plan Torrhen and I are currently drafting, Plan Osk.”
“I…see…”
I nodded before narrowing my eyes. “Section 31’s existence,” I continued. “Along with every other…measure, the Federation has resorted to in order to maintain the system of smoke and mirrors to preserve the façade of a utopian society should work to our advantage. Provided we play our cards right, that is.”
Sara blinked and then narrowed her eyes in understanding. “People don’t like being lied.” She said. “I see your point, ma’am.”
“Quite.” I said before gesturing dismissively. “You have your orders, lieutenant.”
Sara stood to attention. “Yes, ma’am!” she said, before turning and leaving. Alone in my office on the Courageous, I relaxed in my seat thoughtfully, before pulling up the data on planetary operations. Most of it was pretty routine, Stormtrooper garrisons being deployed in key areas, along with Imperial Army units in supporting positions.
Others, though…
…well, only preliminary reports were coming in so far, but…resocialization camps in Antarctica, Siberia, the Australian Outback, and other such places?
I knew the Federation was just another authoritarian government pretending to be otherwise, but to go this far…
…even I didn’t think they had it in them.
But…if so…then the Federation isn’t even an authoritarian state at all…not even close…
…it’s a totalitarian state.
Just what kind of future is this?
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Constantly hidden on the opposite side of Neptune from the Sun, Watch Station Argus was a modified Regula-I Class Space Station. Its modifications included reinforced shielding, heavy armor plating, advanced sensor and listening systems, as well as heavy weapons such phaser lances and anti-proton cannons.
One of the latter even crippled a Vindicator Cruiser shortly after it dropped out of hyperspace, with its shields down. Venators immediately returned fire, turbolasers and proton torpedoes hammering Argus Station as the task force hastily raised shields. It took a few moments to bring Argus Station’s shields down, followed by ion cannon strikes to disable its primary systems. Meanwhile assault boats closed in, latched on with magnetic clamps, before using boarding charges to open up passageways into the station.
Section 31 commandoes and new model battle androids quickly set up defensive positions…
…and found themselves facing down the Empire’s best of the best of the best.
“Contact with enemy forces.” A Spacetrooper – officially Zero-G Assault Stormtroopers – sergeant called in. “Engaging.”
Even as he spoke, he was already loading concussion grenades into his shoulder-mounted grenade launchers, while simultaneously taking aim. Then he fired, his shields easily tanking Type-3 Phaser fire, before the enemy position collapsed from the artillery volley. The rest of the squad was already mopping up, with short and precisely-targeted bursts from gauntlet-mounted blasters.
Proximity sensors sounded the alarm, and the sergeant responded on instinct, blocking a melee attack by a droid of some kind. Briefly grappling with the humanoid machine, the sergeant slammed into the nearest bulkhead with enough force to crumple the metal, before using laser cutters to cut the droid apart.
“Be advised.” He called in again. “Enemy forces include battle droids. Moving to objective.”
The Spacetroopers moved on, turning a corner and advancing down a corridor detected the enemy dug in to form a crossfire up ahead. Gas grenades were launched in response, blood toxins quickly crippling if not outright killing the Section 31 commandoes, while also obscuring line of sight.
“Launching proton torpedo.” The sergeant said. “Brace!”
“Braced!” the squad responded, deploying magnetic locks.
The sergeant fired his torpedo, and blew out an entire bulkhead. Men screamed as they were dragged screaming into space, but several of the Federation droids were able to secure themselves.
The Spacetroopers advanced, blasters shooting the remaining droids to pieces, before cutting their way through a blast door. Alarms screamed as the air beyond began to be sucked out, but the Spacetroopers ignored it.
“Approaching objective.” The sergeant said. “Standby.”
Another blast door blocked their way, and again the Spacetroopers cut through it. Phaser blasted at them, Section 31 commandoes and droids falling back as the air was sucked out, the Spacetroopers returning fire with their blasters. Most of the commandoes were already dead by the time the air was gone, leaving them to asphyxiate as the last of the droids were put down.
“Objective secured.” The sergeant said, he and most of the squad forming a perimeter while the squad tech specialist accessed the local systems and disengaged the lockdown.
“Access Port 12 is secure.” He reported.
“Acknowledged.” The sergeant replied. “Standing by for reinforcements.”
“Reinforcements inbound.” The response came from tactical command.
“Acknowledged.”
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
ISB Agent Hiram Thorn didn’t look happy. And why would he be? He’d come all the way to Neptune in anticipation of actually interrogating a Section 31 member as highly ranked as a Starfleet Fleet Admiral…
…only to be badly disappointed.
“So…this is Fleet Admiral Nechayev…?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.” The navy doctor said, looking very ill. Thorn couldn’t blame him. Who knew that trying to conduct an emergency transport through an active mass gravity shadow was a bad idea?
Nechayev had apparently been fused to the floor on one of Argus Station’s transporter rooms, forcing Section 31 to literally disassemble the room to get her out. And that was only the first of the transporter mishap’s…effects…
…for one thing, Nechayev’s skin and uniform had somehow exchanged places, with her uniform where her skin should be, and leaving her wearing her own skin on top. Thankfully, the fleet admiral had died in the botched transport, as the autopsy report proved.
Apparently, the botched transport had completely rearranged her brain, which had resembled that of the electronics of her tricorder, while her bones had included alloys and polymer compounds from the floor plating she’d been fused into.
“…they’re never getting me to use any of those…things.” Thorn firmly said.
“Even if they work as advertised,” the doctor said with a shudder. “I honestly don’t understand why anyone would. I mean, it breaks you down into energy which then gets reconstructed at the destination? I don’t know about you sir, but that sounds a whole like jumping into a molecular furnace which then simply makes a copy of you on the other side.”
“…yeah…that’s what it sounds like to me too…” Thorn said with a shudder. “…anyway…we need to make sure.”
“Sure…?” the doctor asked.
“This could just be a way to get us off Nechayev’s scent.” Thorn explained. “So, conduct your own autopsy, investigation, and everything else you need to do to confirm that that’s her body right there, and the Head of Starfleet Security is dead.”
The doctor nodded. “Leave it to me, sir.” He said.
“Good man.” Thorn nodded, before leaving accompanied by an aide. “On the plus side…with the main knocked out early on…even without Nechayev to interrogate, we have access to the station’s logs and archives. That should prove useful.”
“Federation incompetence…” the aide sniffed. “…it’s a wonder they even fight back.”
“Don’t underestimate them, lieutenant.” Thorn warned. “Both the Federation and this…shadow dictatorship behind it, are getting desperate. And desperation has been known to make geniuses out of fools. It wouldn’t do to come so far only to fail because we got careless.”
“I see your point, sir.”
Thorn nodded, and then gave a small sigh, as his mind turned on the Section 31 conspiracy – or what the Empire knew of it – in full.
Gods above and below, what a mess.
And we have to be the ones to fix it.
Just what the hell did the Empire get into?