I get to conquer the Federation (SW and ST Crossover/SI)

Prologue

Jaenera Targaryen

Well-known member
I walked down the carpeted aisle, past raised platforms atop which stood Imperial Guardsmen, the room’s half-light shining off their crimson armor. Carbines were held across their breastplates, but despite standing at parade ground stillness with eyes straight ahead, I had no doubts they could have their guns aimed at me in an instant. And me getting shot to bits in the next instant.

Despite what the films said, Imperial Stormtroopers really were the best troops in the galaxy. And only the very best ever got selected for the Imperial Guard.

Well, not the very best. Those got selected for even higher position.

Reaching the end of the aisle, I sank to one knee, head bowed with my right hand held over my chest. “You summoned me, Your Excellency?” I asked in a deferent tone.

High above on the dais, a lanthanide-plated throne turned from where its occupant had been looking through the great stained glass window behind the dais. “Ah yes,” Galactic Emperor Palpatine said with his usual gentle and grandfatherly tone. “Admiral Targaryen…rise, my friend. We need not speak with each on our knees.”

“By your command, Your Excellency.” I said, before rising to my feet, ramrod-straight with gloved hands held behind my back.

The Emperor rubbed his chin thoughtfully, a disarming smile playing on his lips. I stayed silent, knowing that despite the Emperor’s familiar style of address, he was just being gracious because it suited him, and not because he cared for me in any real way. The Star Wars films and novels got that part of his character right.

Now, if only they got the other parts right. Despite what was shown in the films, the Emperor was not a withered, walking corpse with sickly-yellow eyes and drooping skin, who wandered around in a black cloak and hood. If anything, he looked like he did in Revenge of the Sith, a balding old man in red-colored robes of state trimmed with black .

Then again, he might have just used some advanced technology, or Dark Side powers to fix the damage caused by Mace Windu…

…anyway, that wasn’t really important, and I’m not stupid enough to pry. I’ve had – and still have – better things to do than elaborately-commit suicide.

“You’re quite an interesting character, admiral.” The Emperor finally said. I stayed silent, waiting for the Emperor to elaborate. “Women are rare in the ranks of the military, and especially so in the officer corps. And yet, here you are, and an admiral, no less.”

The Emperor paused and chuckled. “An admiral with no ships under her command.” He pointedly said, and despite myself, I felt my face tighten ever so slightly with indignation. Okay, I might have the advantages of having watched all the Star Wars films (including – unfortunately – the so-called sequels though thankfully it seems this was the Legends universe) and read much of the novels, but even their most detailed descriptions could have only helped me ever so much.

And that’s assuming I remembered them word for word. And I don’t.

More to the point, I really had to work my butt off and study myself dizzy just to get through the Imperial Naval Academy. And again and again and again to get myself to where I am now.

The Emperor might be the Emperor, but still…

…it rankles.

The Emperor though, just seemed amused. “It seems I’ve hit a nerve.” He remarked.

I immediately bowed low. “I apologize for my impudence.” I said. “I accept full responsibility, and any punishment Your Excellency deems fit for me.”

The Emperor actually laughed at that, and waved me off. “Not at all,” he said. “While it has not escaped my attention that your father has had to pull strings on your behalf several times in the past, your current rank is not entirely without merit.”

I stayed silent, and the Emperor tilted his head. “You wish to say something?” he asked.

“Forgive me, Your Excellency.” I began. “But my thoughts on the matter are…improper, for one of Your Excellency’s subjects.”

“Then speak.” The Emperor commanded. “I will judge whether they are proper or not.”

I bit my lip at that, but I couldn’t really say no, could I? Still, I had to word this carefully, or else…

“I find COMPNOR’s official stance on gender roles limited at times when it comes to recognizing and rewarding merit.” I finally said.

The Emperor snorted, and looked amused once more. It seems I made the right decision, pushing blame onto COMPNOR instead of the Empire in general.

“True,” the Emperor conceded. “COMPNOR has its uses, but unfortunately has also inherited some of Vandron’s idiosyncrasies.”

I stayed silent once more, while the Emperor sat back in his throne, a grandfatherly smile playing over his lips. “Tell me, my friend,” he began once more. “Would you care to assist me in ridding one of those idiosyncrasies?”

I bowed low. “I am your servant.” I said.

The Emperor chuckled. “The matter has yet to be made public, or released for general consumption within the Admiralty,” he said. “But an opportunity has arisen…yes, a great opportunity in more ways than one.”

The Emperor paused and chuckled again. “Admiral Targaryen,” he began. “Should you accept this role I offer you, you will take a combined force of our military through a wormhole that has opened in the Belsavis System, and establish an Imperial demesne in the other galaxy beyond. A demesne from which further campaigns to expand the New Order to new places and peoples will be launched from.”

I couldn’t help it, my eyes widened, and my mouth fell open. Was this what Q had mentioned in that dream on that night so many years ago, before I woke up not in a hospital bed, but as a child once more, in a curtained four-poster in the family villa? If it was…

…then damn it, it was time to pay up. I didn’t way to die back then, so I accepted his offer without really thinking about it but now…

…oh Force…this is really happening…

The Emperor chuckled at my appearance, though thankfully not able to know what I was through my thoughts. That had been one of Q’s ways to sweeten the deal: in addition to me not dying after that damn drunk driver had plowed through the pedestrian crossing, he made sure no one could ever find out what I was.

Something to be really thankful for, otherwise they’d have pried my head apart for what I knew, and that was before the Emperor got personally involved with his alchemy and whatnot, figuring how self-inserts work. Though I’m sure he’d know soon enough in such a case. Transfer Essence was one of his powers, if I remember correctly.

“…I…I am honored that you have such confidence in my abilities, Your Excellency.” I finally managed to say.

“You may be inexperienced in commanding fleets, admiral,” the Emperor admitted. “But the reports I have received from the Admiralty indicate you are an excellent staff officer. And you did serve with distinction as a junior officer, hunting down pirates along the Mid Rim.”

“I participated in a number of anti-piracy campaigns as a junior officer, yes,” I admitted. “But as Your Excellency says, as a senior and flag officer, I know only the role of a staff officer…”

“…and how will commanding officers perform their duties properly,” the Emperor interrupted, still with that grandfatherly tone. “Without a dutiful and competent staff to manage the details for them?”

“…I see your point, Your Excellency.” I said with a bow.

The Emperor smiled grandly. “I will not lie to you, my friend.” He said. “This campaign will test you, both as your first fleet command, and as I have foreseen. But, great achievements cannot come without overcoming equally-great challenges. Tell me, admiral: do you think you have what it takes to demonstrate the…obsolescence, of Vandron’s idiosyncrasies…?”

“…I know I do, Your Excellency.” I said after a moment drawing myself back up to parade posture.

“Good, good,” the Emperor said, before his smile acquired a hint of menace to it. “You are as I have heard from your father. I look forward to hearing of your successes as much as he does, I am sure.”

“I will make every effort to be worthy of your trust, Your Excellency.” I said with another bow, but feeling a pit of dread open up in my stomach. That was a thinly-veiled threat if I’d ever heard one, aimed not just at myself, but also at my father.

I absolutely cannot mess this up.

“Excellent!” the Emperor said while clapping his hands with approval. “Then you may go, admiral. On your return to the admiralty, you will receive the relevant paperwork to confirm your appointment, after which you may begin with your new responsibilities.”

I bowed once more to the Emperor, who waved me off before turning his throne away, back towards the window behind him. I turned sharply under the watchful, outwardly-inhuman gazes of the Sovereign Protectors around the Emperor’s throne, and marched back down the way I came.

Force…I’ve got my work cut out for me.
 

Zachowon

The Army Life for me! The POG life for me!
Founder
Well, here's to hoping this doesn't turn into a flamefest the way it did on SB -_-
I can assure you it wont, most of us dont see the federation in the same way they do. Most of us see it how it was, and how it compares to what the more political side would want and so on so forth. Plus I think more SW fans are here then ST.
I for one with you were using Mandalorians! but that is just me.
 
D

Deleted member 88

Guest
I've read Falling Shadows and Return of Valyria-haven't kept up with this but I heard about the SB thread.

I'd encourage you to post the above two fics here as well if you are interested in doing so.

Anyway, looking forward to see where this goes.
 
Chapter 1

Jaenera Targaryen

Well-known member
I marched down one of the hallways in the family residence on Imperial Center, the walls finished with pale-blue plaster, and hung with oil portraits in gilded frames at regular intervals. There were also marble busts or glazed porcelains on hardwood plinths, which were probably even more expensive than what was standing on them.

Crystal chandeliers provided bright and even light, while the thick, red carpet on the floor muffled all footsteps. And at the far end of the hallway, flanking a pair of wooden doors, were a pair of family guards, dressed in matching high-collar jackets and trousers of blue, with gold epaulets and a gold trimmed sash of white from their right shoulder to their left hip. Matching caps rested on their heads, bereft of any symbol or device, and both men saluted me as I approached.

I saluted them both instinctively, and then they both opened the doors for me. I stepped inside, and they closed it behind me as well.

My father’s sitting room was a well-furnished one, if still as elaborate as the rest of the residence, if not even more so. The walls were decorated with frescoes of idyllic scenes of pastoral life on distant Valyria, while hardwood shelves were stacked with books and other materials. There were portraits, sculptures, and busts, the first of those in gilded frames, and the latter all on hardwood plinths.

The floor was paneled with milky marble, shot through with swirling patterns of dark color. Chairs upholstered in red sat next to hardwood tables along the windows, looking out over the greenery of the grounds and then the towering security wall beyond, and more chairs and a couch stood in the middle of the room, around an even larger table.

Under them was one of the most expensive things in this house, practically priceless if my father was to be believed. A Ziostian carpet, made and obtained by the family during the Galactic Cold War some 3000 years or so ago.

How they managed to keep it hidden for so long from the Jedi and their obsession with destroying anything involved with the Sith was mind-boggling…

…though the fact that it had been kept in stasis for those millennia and then buried in the family vault on Valyria until recently might have been a major factor. That, and it was just a carpet. It wasn’t a holocron or an amulet or a sword or whatnot that could have been tainted by the Dark Side.

It was a carpet, primarily red, but also with elaborate, abstract embroidery in gold, white, and black.

“Welcome back.” Count Aelor Targarven said, sitting on the couch and working at a portable terminal, financial data scrolling past quickly. “I hear you were summoned to the upper palace today. Did something happen?”

Of course my father would have heard about that. He might only be of mid-rank as far as the nobility were concerned, but the Targaryens and the rest of the 40 Families of Valyria were old enough to be ranked among the so-called Old Houses, alongside such illustrious names as Organa, Vandron, and Garonin, among others.

He had a place in Court, and with it eyes and ears of his own. He also knew that entry to the upper palace was restricted to those with Court rank, or received special permission, and of course, palace staff and security. Even flag officers who didn’t have permission were limited to the lower palace, located underground and containing the Admiralty, the General Staff, and the Imperial High Command among other critical locations.

“The Emperor summoned me to an audience.” I said, taking off my officer’s cap before letting my hair loose of the ponytail it was usually held up in. Platinum strands immediately fell over my shoulders, which even now I couldn’t help but feel wonder at.

I’d been a brunette in my past life, and back then I’d always held a fascination for blonde hair. Oh, I’d experimented with hair dye and even bleach a few times, but it never satisfied me, never quite achieving that sense of wonder I felt at the sight of naturally-blonde hair.

In this life though, I was platinum-blonde, and despite having decades to get used to it, it still felt so amazing to look at in a mirror.

My father looked up in concern at my words, and soon rose to his feet to approach me. Genuine concern, for me and my health, and not just at how my audience with the Emperor might affect our fortunes at Court and elsewhere.

I smiled at him. “I’m just fine, father.” I said reassuringly. “His Excellency was most gracious, and the audience went as well as could be expected.”

My father sighed with relief, though he still reached out and squeezed my arms reassuringly. Though the memories of my other (?) father never completely faded, this man had filled that role for decades now, and had not only raised me and made sure I wanted for nothing, had also been there for me whenever I needed him.

Nor did he expect me to conform to some…backward, expectation of prim, proper, and ‘ladylike’ behavior.

So long as you know and understand what you’re doing, I’ll leave it up to you.

This whole family is your inheritance, so please do as you think best.

No matter what happens, I won’t regret it.

You shouldn’t be too concerned about House Targaryen. Instead, use House Targaryen as a tool, and think only of expanding your horizons.

Alright?


There was no question about it. Regardless of what had once been in another time and place, this man was my father here and now, and not simply because of bonds of blood.

“And?” father prompted. “What did the Emperor wish to speak to you about?”

“Uh…” I hesitated, only to give way to the concern in my father’s eyes. “Father, did you mention to His Excellency my…difficulties, in the past with…um…gender roles, in general Imperial society?”

Father’s eyes widened in surprise. “I have…a few times…” he admitted. “But always in passing, and never as a matter of course, much less as a serious subject for conversation. No offense…”

“None taken,” I reassured father again. “You never know when and where COMPNOR might be listening.”

Father nodded in agreement. “Why do you ask though?” he asked with some worry. “It has something to do with why the Emperor summoned you, didn’t it?”

“…His Excellency seems to consider COMPNOR’s opinions on gender roles a…idiosyncrasy…” I carefully said. “…and from the sound of things, His Excellency wishes for me to be model case to bring an end to it.”

“…unsurprising…” father admitted after a moment’s thought. “The Emperor might allow Lord Vandron free reign when it comes to setting COMPNOR’s policies, and even to rise to such influence as it currently possesses, but I dare to say the Emperor has his own opinions on the trends they set.”

“That much is obvious, at least when it comes to gender roles,” I said. “Considering Ysane Isard’s favored position not just in the Ubiqtorate, but also as a member of the Imperial Court.”

“Quite…” father agreed with a nod. Then folding his hands behind him, he stepped back, taking a deep breath while looking up at the frescoed ceiling, depicting the legendary Fourteen Flames of Ancient Valyria, bathed in golden light from the room’s chandelier. “I am glad for you. It seems you finally have the opportunity to prove your abilities beyond question, and with the Emperor’s support at that. Though, you must be careful as well.”

Father paused, and regarded me evenly with his violet eyes. I blinked, and met his eyes slightly-deferentially. Then he raised a hand, and put it on my shoulder.

“This will put you at great risk, and in more ways than one.” He said.

“Father?”

“Should you succeed,” father began. “Then you will be an unspoken criticism of Lord Vandron’s policies, and an indirect sanction from the Emperor himself. Indeed, I dare to say that may just be an angle of the Emperor’s design here, a means with which to check Lord Vandron’s great power and influence, and thus maintain the balance between the various factions within the Imperial Court.”

I blinked at that, and meeting father’s eyes resolutely, nodded. “And there is also the how the Emperor wishes for you to become a model case.” He continued. “No doubt it is a matter of great importance, but also of equal risk. Or am I wrong?”

“No,” I said with a shake of my head. “You are right. As His Excellency said, no great achievement comes with overcoming equally-great challenges.”

“That is undeniably true.” Father said with a nod. “That said, I still pray to the gods of our ancestors, or to any interested beings that exist out there, that you not only succeed, but come out of this sound and safe.”

“…father…”

Father sighed and shook his head. “When you decided to join the navy,” he began. “I knew and prepared myself for the possibility of you laying down your life in the line of duty. And I have been thankful that you have always returned in one piece, each and every time you went out to hunt pirates all those years ago.”

“And I will return again,” I said firmly. “With victory in hand. Lord Vandron will be displeased, but while I must and will watch my back, I will not cower, but stand proud. I will become Countess Targaryen in time, will I not? How can I do any less then, when our ancestors would turn in our graves if I did?”

Father chuckled and shook his head, before gently taking my chin and then kissing me on the forehead. “As fiery as ever,” he said. “Your mother would be so proud…but enough of this gloomy matter. Go and freshen up, then we’ll have dinner together. You can even tell me all about the Emperor’s command over our meal.”

I smiled and gave my father a small bow. “By your command, father.” I cheekily said.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

…the Emperor’s orders are clear and beyond question.” The holographic recording of the message from Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin said firmly as it floated above my desk in my office at the Admiralty. “You will have full authority with regard to the expected campaign through the Belsavis Gateway, and the New Territories beyond. Moff Zokor of the Bozhnee Sector has been appraised of the situation, and guarantees full cooperation and support. Requests for manpower, equipment, ships, and supplies among others, will be expedited as per Executive Directive 9066-6M. Nevertheless, in light of our positions and responsibilities with regard to the Bozhnee Sector and the greater Oversector Outer, we will expect monthly progress reports, in addition to the reports you will be sending to Imperial Center…

Grand Moff Tarkin sure loves the sound of his voice.” I thought to myself. I made sure to listen and understand, though. Grand Moff Tarkin might like the sound of his voice, but he was no fool, and he ran a tight ship in Oversector Outer. Well, up to a point: The Rebel Alliance operated with relative freedom out there, and to no small amount of annoyance for Grand Moff Tarkin.

Together with his…obsessive-compulsive, style of authoritarian government, I can understand why he was so…ruthless, at trying to stamp the Alliance out.

Not that it made the (future) destruction of Alderaan by the Death Star any less stupid. Even if Alderaan was one of the biggest covert supporters of the Alliance in the Core Systems, that was precisely what it was: A Core World. And not just any Core World, but one of the oldest and most respected, with a place in galactic history dating back to before the founding of the Galactic Republic twenty-five thousand years ago.

Still…that was a matter for the future. More importantly, Grand Moff Tarkin wasn’t just grandstanding, he was making sure I knew and understood my place, that despite having been granted – and by Imperial Decree no less – full authority over the coming campaign, as Grand Moff of Oversector Outer and answering directly to the Emperor himself, his was still the greater authority in this region of the galaxy. His including Moff Zokor was a subtle demonstration of that.

Normally, as a mere moff who answered to the Imperial Ruling Council and not directly to the Emperor, my authority would have superseded that of Zokor’s. My mandate came directly from the Emperor, after all.

But Grand Moff Tarkin said Moff Zokor had a say, and as a grand moff, that was practically equal to an order from the Emperor himself. Unless the Emperor said otherwise of course, but what were the chances of that?

…on a final note,” Grand Moff Tarkin said with a wintery smile. “Rest assured that Senator Borre of the Bozhnee Sector has been informed of the situation and his expectations thereof. You may proceed with your campaign plans without fear of undue and unnecessarily-restrictive oversight from the Imperial Senate.

I snorted, and then actually smiled. Now there’s something I completely agreed with: no interference from those busybodies in the Imperial Senate who didn’t know a damn thing about waging war. While I might have welcomed a diplomatic resolution with the Federation had circumstances permitted, circumstances did not permit it, and so I’d rather get this over and done with without some prima donna, bleeding-heart politicians running around and making a mess of things.

Though, I wonder how Grand Moff Tarkin dealt with Senator Borre.” I mused. “Bribery doesn’t seem his style…blackmail, maybe? Or an under-the-table deal of some kind, favor for a favor in the future, or something like that…oh well…none of my business, I suppose.

Shrugging and turning off the holoprojector, I picked up one of the dataslates on my desk, and gave its contents a quick read-through. I did that for the next forty minutes, signing off on orders, reports, and updates, while sending off a number of messages and looking up various subjects on my terminal.

Then there was a knock on my door, and I set aside the report I’d been reading about a requisition order for 200 merchant freighters as part of the expeditionary force’s logistics train. “Enter.” I curtly said.

The doors slid open, and my adjutant, Lieutenant Sara Londes, entered with a salute, followed by a man with a flag officer’s rank plaque and code cylinders. “Please excuse the interruption.” Sara said as I stood and returned her salute. “But Rear Admiral Yaggos has arrived, and you asked earlier that he be shown in on his arrival.”

“Yes, of course” I said, saluting the rear admiral, who saluted back. “You may return to your station, lieutenant.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sara said while saluting, and then turning sharply left my office. I gestured to one of the seats in front of my desk, and sat down on my chair, hands folded over my lap.

“So,” I began. “How was the journey back to Imperial Center?”

“Without incident, thank you.” The man said with a curt nod. I smiled and nodded.

“I see.” I said, before taking one of the dataslates on my desk. “Torrhen Yaggos…born 28 BrS, graduated tenth in the Naval Academy Class of Year 2, served as a military policeman for the Republic Navy in the lead up to the Clone Wars, stationed on a variety of ships and bases across the galaxy. At the start of the war, you transferred to logistics, and served as a staff officer at Republic High Command for the rest of the war. At war’s end, you entered the academy at Corulag, and graduated two years ago majoring in logistics. And until a few days ago, you were the commanding officer for the Onderon Naval Base.”

“That is an accurate summation of my military career thus far.” Torrhen said with a nod.

“Then I will get straight to the point.” I said, and sitting forward, placed my hands on the desk. “Rear Admiral Yaggos, I would offer you the position of Chief of Staff for the Imperial Expeditionary Force that I will be leading into the New Territories.”

The man sat silent for a few moments, and then taking a deep breath, drew himself up. “I accept.” He said.

“You won’t even ask about the details before doing so?” I asked with a small smile. “And you’ll be comfortable serving under someone younger than you are?”

“The latter should be of no concern to a military officer.” Torrhen answered. “If high command has determined you are suitable for a command role, then it is not my place to question their judgment.”

“I see. And the details?”

“…seeing as this is the first time I’ve ever heard about the New Territories, much less an expedition therein, I can reasonably assume you would not have given me any answers unless I accepted your offer first.”

“And you think you can back out even after I tell you all about them?” I asked.

“Permission to speak freely, ma’am?” Torrhen asked back.

I sat back in my seat. “Granted.” I said.

“This expedition,” he began. “No matter where it’s headed or how, is likely to be incredibly-dangerous, if it hasn’t been publicly-announced yet, or even released to the Admiralty in general. But danger and death are a given when it comes to being a soldier, no matter the time or place. We don’t go out of our way to find them, but when we do find them, then we face them as we must. And if soldiers’ lives must be lost…then it must be made sure the losses count for something.”

I stared at the man for several long moments, and then nodded. “I see.” I said. “Very well said, rear admiral.”

“May I ask a question, admiral?” Torrhen asked.

“By all means.” I invited him.

“Why did you select me as your chief of staff?” he asked.

“You had seniority among the list of qualified candidates I was presented.” I answered. “There’s also your background in logistics, which I consider to be the most important part of any campaign or expedition. And then there’s your wartime experience in the Clone Wars. Even if not on the bridge of a ship, or on a battlefield except perhaps during the Battle of Coruscant, it’s still a valuable one, especially as it was in a role overseeing the whole combat zone that was the galaxy during that war. Based on all that…it wasn’t a difficult decision.”

“…I see.” Torrhen said after a long moment. “Come to think of it, admiral, you too have a background in logistics, do you not?”

“So I do.” I said with a nod. “Though unlike you, I lack combat experience aside from hunting some pirates along the Mid Rim, and that was years ago. And managing logistics across the galaxy in peacetime is completely different from doing so in war.”

Torrhen chuckled. “It seems we complement each other well, admiral.” He said. “I look forward to serving under you.”

I nodded back. “As do I.” I said, before bringing up some classified data, and unlocking them with my code cylinders. “Now then, I will explain our upcoming expedition, so you can begin with your new responsibilities as soon as possible, rear admiral.”

“By all means, admiral.”
 

Bear Ribs

Well-known member
Mmm, politics and setting the stage. Often I prefer these kinds of chapters to stuff blowing up, and this is good though I hope we start seeing an antagonist soon rather than just things moving relatively smoothly.
 

Sixgun McGurk

Well-known member
Welcome to Sietch Jaenera Targaryen. Enjoy your stay.
I wonder what Star Trek citizens would think if they're introduced to tasty Ewok Jerky (Made from Real Ewoks)

(jingle)

'Ewok jerky, what a treat, its what Imperial storm-troopers like to eat.
So break one out to start your day, show us that you follow the Imperial Way.' (/jingle)

'This message brought to you by Oversector Outer Command Supply and Logistics Division, where even the most intractable Imperial problem is just a solution waiting to happen.'

'This is the COMPNOR Radio Network.'
 
D

Deleted member 88

Guest
So I understand your not considering Picard and Discovery?

(That's very good)

How much of Trek will you take into consideration or rather what Trek? Just the shows? Or the novelverse, or the 2409 timeline?

Because there are some major differences between the latter.
 
Chapter 2

Jaenera Targaryen

Well-known member
The Belsavis Gateway was rather underwhelming, truth be told. I’d expected a wormhole to be, well, dramatic in appearance, like that wormhole near Deep Space Nine. A circular pattern of golden waves rippling out from a central point, said central point a shaft of blinding light bursting out into space and leading into, well, the wormhole. A space between spaces, if that meant anything.

Okay, maybe that was unfair. The Belsavis Gateway had its moments, specifically when ships were going in or out of the wormhole. If they went in, the wormhole had the appearance of a golden spiral, falling inwards to a central point. If they went out…okay, then the Belsavis Gateway had an appearance matching that of Deep Space Nine’s wormhole, if slightly more subdued.

Though only if you looked at it from the front or back. Look at it from the side – assuming you could achieve a perfect perpendicular angle – and the wormhole was actually invisible. In fact, when the wormhole was at rest, you wouldn’t even know it was there, just a circular patch of empty space rippling like a pond of oily water, distorting any light falling on it.

In hindsight, maybe I was being even more unfair, as to my knowledge the wormhole at Deep Space Nine was completely invisible when inactive. In contrast, the Belsavis Gateway had at least some visibility when at rest.

I blinked as the Belsavis Gateway came active, and a pair of Carrack Class Light Cruisers emerged, returning from another patrol of the system on other side. The rest of the flotilla followed soon after, six CR90 Corvettes.

Ten such patrol flotillas were present on the other side of the Belsavis Gateway at any one time, for a total of one hundred and eighty ships. Yes, they were light ships, but quantity was a quality of its own.

Especially since while a Carrack had armament typical for its size and class, its speed and endurance were comparable to fighters and capital ships respectively. If anyone on the other side decided to make trouble, the sheer number of CR90s backed by a solid force of Carracks would be enough to deal with them.

Or if they couldn’t, help was only a simple subspace transmission away, and a fast attack force would arrive in less than an hour.

Yes, subspace transmissions. That caught me by surprise too, but apparently Star Wars also used subspace communications. In fact, they were the primary means of FTL communications between civilian starships, as ever since the rise of the Empire the holonet had been restricted for military and government use.

Even then, from the Deep Core to the Mid Rim, sector, system, and planetary governments supplemented their holonet communications with localized subspace networks, and further networked them with each other for increased coverage and range. And on the Outer Rim, where the holonet had never been extended, subspace communications were the only FTL communications available, barring courier ships.

Military and government ships too kept secondary subspace communication capabilities, just in case.

The sound of footsteps shook me out of the reverie I tended to fall into while standing on the command deck of my Star Destroyer, the result of the hypnotic sight of the starscape beyond the great transparisteel windows, and the background hum of computers and men at work across the bridge. I turned and accepted the offered dataslate from my adjutant with a nod.

“The 62nd Patrol Flotilla has completed its current assignment,” Sara said, summarizing the report she’d just given me, like the good staff officer that she was. “No incidents to report, all ten probe droids deployed as planned.”

“And how many probe droids have we sent out so far?” I asked while flipping through the dataslate.

“Thus far we have deployed a total of eight hundred probe droids through the other side of the wormhole.” Sara answered. “Hyperspace mapping is proceeding as planned, and we have discovered a number of inhabited worlds on the other side. Still no contact with a local government, though.”

“Assuming they know there’s someone to contact.” I pointed out.

That was actually something that made me curious. If I remember right, didn’t the Federation have a subspace sensor network spread across their whole territory? They should have detected us and the Belsavis Gateway by now.

Of course, I could just be overestimating the Federation’s capabilities. Space was vast, and from what I recall things slipped through their nets even in areas where the Federation kept an especially close eye out, like along the Neutral Zone.

Perhaps the subspace network didn’t cover the whole of Federation territory, and only contested space? If so, we might have emerged in the Federation’s metaphorical backside, a knife aimed at their back without them realizing it.

That, or we were in another part of the galaxy. That was fine. I wouldn’t mind blowing the Jem’Hadar out of the stars, before bombing them and their so-called Founders back into the Stone Age. Oh, I didn’t completely buy into COMPNOR’s tripe about Human supremacy and all that, but there were just some species that were so…

vile, that I couldn’t help but wonder if COMPNOR had a point.

The Hutts for one. Trandoshans for another. Then there were the Anzati (though I’ve never met one, and I never wanted to), plus the Sand People (again, I’ve never met them, but whenever I remember poor Shmi I couldn’t help but cheer Anakin – Lord Vader – on as he slaughtered them like the animals that they were)…

…and in the Star Trek universe, there’s the Kazon, the Borg (except Seven and those other drones on Voyager, but only because they weren’t really drones anymore), and the aforementioned Dominion…

…anyway…

“What’s the status of the fortifications on the other side?” I asked.

“We should be finished within the next seventy-two hours.” Sara replied. “Assuming nothing interferes with construction, of course.”

“That’s what the monitors are for.” I said. “And their escorts, of course. Inform the engineers I want those Golan-IIs operational within seventy-two hours. They can fine-tune and everything else afterwards so long as they’re combat-capable and the CGTs are up and running.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sara said with a nod, and at my returning nod, smartly strode off to relay my orders.

Turning back to the windows, my eyes homed in on the nine Golan-II Battle Stations on this side of the Belsavis Gateway, positioned around the wormhole in such a way to cover for each other and ensuring any enemy that managed to get through the wormhole wouldn’t be able to find any blind spots to pass through or attack one or more battle stations from. Not that I was so stupid as to rely completely on static defenses, of course.

I refuse to become the Star Wars version of Field Marshal Maurice Gamelin, who gambled everything on the Maginot Line and ended up handing France to Hitler on a silver platter neatly tied up with a pretty pink bow.

Each Golan-II had been assigned supporting forces composed of six Victory-I Class Star Destroyers. Old ships, slow by modern standards, but very reliable for all that, and still packing firepower, shields, and armor worthy of the designation ‘Star Destroyer’.

Perfect for the role of monitors, they provided tactical flexibility for the Golan-IIs, while adding additional firepower against any potential enemy. And then there were the escort forces, eighteen CR90s for every two Victory-Is as screens, and another four Nebulon-Bs each to cover their rears.

Of course, this assumed any enemy that came through came with the intention of fighting and securing this side of the wormhole. Alternatively, they could just go to warp or hyperspace the moment they passed through…

…well, there was the reason I had six Detainer CC-2200s – the first class of what would be known as interdictor cruisers – around this area of space, and another twelve hanging further back just in case. Any ship that tried to escape to warp or hyperspace after running the wormhole would be facing an unpleasant surprise.

Of course, they could just blow their way out of the trap by knocking out the interdictors, but considering the weight of firepower built up around the wormhole, what were the chances of that?

Still, best not to take chances. Two Vindicator Class Heavy Cruisers each guarded a single interdictor, screened by another eighteen CR 90s, and with their rears guarded by Nebulon-B Escort Frigates.

At the thought of the sheer amount of firepower I had available – and that was before the rest of the expeditionary force was factored in – I smiled at a thought coming to mind, a memory from my past life, a quote from Philippe Petain, Marshal of France.

Firepower kills.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Several days later, when I was conducting an inspection of one the Golan-II Battle Stations set up on the other side of the Belsavis Gateway, Starfleet finally came calling.

“What a strange design…” Sara mused next to me, as we stood on the station’s command deck, looking across space to where a trio of ships hung in space.

After spending decades living and making a name for myself in the Star Wars universe, I was inclined to agree. I guess I just got used to the style of starships there, that here in the Star Trek universe – or was it galaxy? – their style of ship design came off as strange. That, and the part of me trained and experienced as a navy officer began looking for weaknesses in the general design.

The struts connecting the nacelles to the engineering block were obvious weaknesses. The same went for the bridge between the saucer-shaped main hull and the cylindrical engine section. Granted, the same could be said for a Star Destroyer’s bridge tower, but the bridge tower had mass, something that the bridge between the main hull and the engine section of Federation starships didn’t quite have.

The ship’s bridge was dangerously-exposed on top of the dorsal hull, though in that case I can’t really complain. The same could be said about the command decks of Imperial warships, after all.

And finally, the design of Federation ships as a whole made for big targets from the front, and weren’t very efficient when it came to pointing as many guns as possible at an enemy. Then again, Federation ships were exploration and science vessels first, and warships second.

Something that would haunt them here and now, to be sure.

“We’re receiving a transmission.” One of the communications crew reported. “But it’s not in any language we recognize.”

“Unsurprising,” I said. “We’re no longer in our galaxy, after all. It’d be unreasonable, stupid even, to assume the people here speak Basic.”

“What should we do, admiral?” the station commander asked.

I hummed in thought, crossing my arms over my chest while thinking it over. I recognized two of the ships, Excelsior Classes if I remember right, flanking the one in the middle and forward. That one I couldn’t recognize, but I’d bet money based on that alone that we were probably in the 24th Century.

The Excelsior Class had been the most advanced ship in Starfleet during the 23rd Century, and probably numbered only a few vessels. And it’d be at the head of any force like what we were facing now, not providing escort duty.

Of course I could be wrong, but I don’t think I am.

“Status of the unknowns?” I asked.

The station commander conferred with the sensor station, and returned to me after a few moments. “Their shields appear to be down, and their weapons are offline.” He said. “They’re repeatedly sending the same message to us though, and sending us a fairly-large data packet.”

“Containment?” I asked.

The man nodded. “As per standard cyberwarfare procedures for all receiving ships and facilities.” He said, and I nodded back in approval.

Not that there was anything to worry about, that data packet was probably just a first contact package, and the repeating transmissions greetings and requests for diplomatic negotiations. “…brave men…” I murmured.

“Ma’am?” the station commander asked.

“Unless these people are completely incompetent,” I said. “They’d have noticed the sheer amount of firepower present here. And yet, here they are. With their shields down and weapons offline…a shame…but we have our orders, and our duty to fulfil to the Empire.”

“As you say, ma’am.” The station commander said with a nod.

“Signal the Courageous.” I ordered.

“Ma’am?” the station commander asked, looking and sounding confused.

“Golan-II’s don’t have ion cannons, commander.” I said. “But Imperial Class ships do. Signal Courageous, and have them use the ship’s ion cannons to knock out those ships’ systems. Then target their engines with turbolasers. Leave them dead in the water. Afterwards, have Stormtroopers board and capture as many crew and officers as possible. I want prisoners to interrogate, and computers to dissect.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The station commander said, rushing to relay my orders.

Well…” I thought to myself. “It’s not like I can avoid having to go to war, and fighting Starfleet. That was part of our pact, wasn’t it, Q? Might as well get it over with.

I turned my eyes to my flagship, the Imperial Class Star Destroyer Courageous. Imperial-I Class to be specific, as the Imperial-II wouldn’t be laid down for another fifteen or so years. The same went for the Executor Class Star Dreadnought, with the Mandator and Mandator-II being the most fearsome vessels in the fleet today.

I’d been tempted to request a Mandator-II for a flagship, but instead decided to stick with an Imperial instead. I hadn’t really done anything of note, so asking for a Star Dreadnought might made have me look out of place. Oh, I’m sure the Emperor would have been amused, but the rest of the powers-that-be though…

…yeah, never mind.

I looked on as blue beams of light lanced from the Courageous, and struck all three ships. Lights flashed across their hulls, even as their engines, windows, and running lights went dark, and then green bolts flashed across space, striking at the drifting Federation vessels’ engine sections.

Explosions of flame and debris fountained into space…

…and then I was shielding my eyes, as did Sara and everyone else looking through the command deck’s windows.

“What the hell happened?” the station commander demanded from his bridge crew, technicians, junior officers, and enlisted hurriedly checked their stations.

“If I may say so, admiral,” Sara began. “Those ships’ reactors must have gone critical.”

“So it would seem, Sara.” I said, while rubbing a temple with my fingers.

Federation warp cores and their famous volatility. And hypermatter is supposed to be even more dangerous than antimatter? Ha!

“Well, there goes my prisoners and sliced computers.” I said with a sigh. “That said, there are other sources of information, as per the operational plan.”

“As you say, ma’am.” Sara said with a nod. I looked back out the windows, to where the cooling debris of three Federation vessels destroyed by warp core breaches drifted fast and free through space.

Then I was turning, as the station commander approached with a dataslate. “Our turbolasers cut through their hull like it wasn’t even there.” He said. “We must then have compromised their main reactors, resulting in their destruction.”

I nodded slowly while going through the report. “We don’t know if those were their best ships,” I began. “Or if they were even warships in the first place. For all we know they could have been diplomatic couriers.”

“And even if they were warships,” Sara pointed out. “Their shields were down.”

The station commander looked skeptical. “Even if they were up against a Star Destroyer,” he said. “Those were surgical strikes. Against vessels of comparable role based on size…say, a Vindicator, they’d have caused damage, but would never have destroyed it. If those were warships, then I’m not impressed at all.”

“That may be so commander,” I said with a nod. “But let’s not get carried away with assumptions. Let’s do this properly, and show these people the full might of the Imperial Navy. It may seem like overkill now, but in the long-term, I’m sure it will only contribute to our cause.”

“Shock and awe.” Sara remarked, and the station commander nodded with a small smile.

“I see your point, ma’am.” He said.

I nodded back at him. “In any case,” she said. “I’ll continue with the inspection another day, prepare my shuttle, I’m returning to the Courageous. Hopefully our experts can crack whatever data these people sent us, and give us something to show for all this trouble beyond a field of debris in space.”

“Yes, ma’am!”
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“And there she is!” Q flamboyantly greeted me as I walked into my quarters aboard the Courageous, and wearing an Imperial Grand Admiral’s uniform to boot. No surprise there, I suppose. “The Traveler from Another World, the Reborn Wanderer, the Gallant and Noble Conqueror of the Stars, Herald of Reformation and Champion of the New Order, Galactic Imperial Admiral Jaenera Targaryen!”

“Q…good to see you again, I suppose.”

Q tutted while waving a finger in the air. “If you’re going to say that,” he said while pacing around. “You should be more enthusiastic about it. Especially after all the trouble I went through to sweeten the deal, like making sure not one of your galaxy’s showboating telepaths and reality-renders figures out what you are. Especially that pompous old prune you call an Emperor. Or for that matter, giving you the appearance you were so very enamored with. Valyrians…I’ll admit your kind are exotic enough for Humans but still…”

Q trailed off with a shrug as he sat down in a nearby chair. “Considering you haven’t been in touch since we made that deal decades ago,” I said while taking off my cap and then sitting down opposite him. “I wasn’t really expecting you.”

“Now that’s quite an oversight on your part.” Q said while tapping his fingers together. “Still, you do seem to be living up to your end of the bargain, so I suppose I really have nothing to complain about.”

“Conquer the Federation, huh?” I said softly. “And? What about the rest of the Alpha Quadrant? Or this galaxy?”

Q laughed. “Our agreement was only to spare your life, and be reborn into another one with your sense of self effectively-unchanged,” he said. “Among other terms, in exchange for you steamrolling the grand and wonderful Federation. So long as that’s done, then our agreement’s done. You are free to live your life as you please. Though that makes me wonder, what will you do with your life?”

“What will be will be.” I said with a shrug, before smiling at the look of disappointment on Q’s face. “Though, I’ll take advantage of any opportunity I can get.”

Q pursed his lips at that, locking his fingers together while pressing the index ones against his chin. After a few moments, he shrugged. “A better answer than what I’d have gotten from some other characters.” He said. “Well, in that case, I’ll be taking my leave. I only really came here to say hi, see how an old friend was doing, and pass a few reminders along if needed. Glad to see the last isn’t, so…well then…”

“Wait!” I said, even as Q prepared to snap his fingers to leave. “Before you leave, I have a question.”

“And that is?”

“What’s your angle in this, Q?” I asked. “I remember enough – though I’ll admit it’s not very accurate, considering it was literally in another life, and some details are probably very different much like in the Emperor’s case – to know that you don’t actually act on a whim. At least, not completely, though even then there’s something else to it.”

“And she gets it!” Q said, clapping his hands, his applause joined by countless more as I found myself no longer in my quarters, but in the Imperial Senate on Imperial Center. Only instead of senators, the people in the surrounding alcoves were just ordinary people, as though an audience to a presentation or a play. And Q was no longer wearing a grand admiral’s uniform, but the Emperor’s robes of state. “You’d be surprised how so many people smarter than you are only able to see the surface. You? You’re just a girl in a dead end job who was dying because of a drunk driver who got reborn as a noblewoman-turned naval officer for an autocratic galaxy-spanning empire. Those other people were talented diplomats, experienced explorers, brilliant scientists all in one, born to a diverse culture that promotes a utopian society in pursuit of an idyllic future…but you managed to figure something out they couldn’t. And for that I’ll give you a straight answer.”

There was a flash of light, and we were on a beach…somewhere. “I told you earlier, didn’t I?” Q asked from where he was lying on a folding chair, sipping at a cocktail while staring at the sunset through a pair of sunglasses. You are the Herald of Reformation and Champion of the New Order. I think the people in this galaxy can learn a lot from you and those who follow you.”

“The New Order isn’t really…wait, no…look beneath the surface…”

“Admiral, you continue to impress.” Q said while toasting me and taking a long drink, before light flashed and we stood in my quarters again. “Yes, please, continue the thought.”

“…the New Order…” I hesitantly said. “Doesn’t necessarily have to mean the Emperor’s New Order. It can be anything I make of it, here and now, with the power I have to make it happen.”

“Congratulations!” Q said, taking my hand and shaking it vigorously. “Though you really should be more confident, you’re an Imperial Admiral for crying out loud. That aside, good on you for figuring it out! Yes, that’s what I want you to do. I want you to teach these people a few things, most important of all, how to live.”

I raised an eyebrow at that, and then snorted as I realized what he meant by that. “Easier said than done,” I said. “But doable.”

“Then I look forward to seeing how you do it.” Q said with an expectant smirk. “Until next time…right now, I’ve got things to do, and people to see. Bye-bye now.”

“Yeah…and thanks, for saving my life and giving this chance to start over.”

“Ah…gratitude…so very rare…and so very much more appreciated because of that…”

There was a flash of light, and then Q was gone. Alone with myself, I sighed, and walked off to get a change of clothes.
 

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