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

DarthOne

☦️
That would make a certain degree of aesthetic sense, both in-universe and meta-wise, the Targaryens being old Human nobility themselves.
Well between the gasmasks and ‘spiked helmets’ part it was kind of hard for me not to picture something like this:


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Chapter 24

Jaenera Targaryen

Well-known member
I sat at my desk in my ready room on the Courageous, reviewing the data recovered by my family's household troops from Memory Alpha. It was the key to the future, either the chance to finish what I had started, or death to maintain a monopoly on knowledge of its existence. Maybe even both, as impossible as that might sound.

Pushing thoughts of my potential demise aside, I sighed and sat back in my seat, turning my thoughts instead to other matters. "It won't be decided until I get back to Coruscant." I thought. "That is, Imperial Center…and that won't be until the Federation has surrendered, and the New Territories brought to heel."

Despite myself, I snorted at that. The New Territories, tentatively planned to be an Oversector or its equivalent, was fairly small by the standards thereof. Tiny, even, compared to Oversector Outer. That said, though, this was a different galaxy, connected only to our own via a convenient wormhole. The latter aside, given the technically-vast distance between this galaxy and our own, making it an Oversector seemed the right call.

I sighed, and briefly closed my eyes. In that instant, there was a flash of light, bright enough to get through my lowered eyelids, but not so much to really to be even a nuisance.

"Long day, my lady admiral?" Q asked nonchalantly, once again wearing an Imperial Grand Admiral's uniform.

"More like reflecting on the Federation's overinflated sense of importance." I dryly remarked. "Tell me, honestly, are they really the first to develop this piece of technology, or for that matter, to unlock and study in-depth the science behind it?"

Q snorted disdainfully. "Hardly." He said. "The science behind it is actually quite elementary, anyone who's watched stars be born, grow, and die, only to be born again would realize the basic principles…assuming they had the wit for it, of course."

"And the tech?"

Q smiled chidingly. "There's no reason to ask stupid questions, is there?" he asked in a reproving tone.

I snorted and shrugged. "True," I said. "Besides, I guess tech like this is like a child's toy to you, or people like you."

"Well…yes, and no." Q delicately replied. "Going into the details would fly over your head…that, and would get us both into a lot of trouble. Let's just say there are the Q, and there are other, transcendental life forms."

"…fair enough."

Q shrugged and smiled. "In any case," he continued. "I came to see how you were doing, and wow! You've really outdone yourself. Not only have you managed to push the Federation into a corner, you've even broken open those closets of theirs. You know, the ones filled brimming with old skeletons?"

"Yeah, and there's so much of them that the Empire's struggling to dig itself out, and the bones are still falling out." I snapped back, although there was no real heat to it. "On the bright side, though, this might actually be a good thing."

"Oh?" Q asked, tenting his fingers and looking and sounding genuinely interested. "Do tell."

"Having to fix the mess the Federation made of Humanity in this galaxy, and other species they've encountered should keep the Empire…well, smart." I reasoned. "We'll be too busy to drop the ball, at least in this galaxy. Back home, though…well, that's something else entirely."

Q beamed. "Very good!" he said. "I chose well with you. Although, I'm rather curious…are you really sure you want to hand that over to that pretender godling who likes to call himself your Emperor?"

"Not really, no." I admitted. "But, it's the kind of thing that would really get his interest, and giving it to him while bypassing the rest of the Court and the Imperial hierarchy might just be what I need to get the chance to finish what I started."

"You could have just asked, you know?" Q pointed out.

"I suspect that would just have disappointed you." I pointed back in turn, and Q laughed.

"True!" he said. "Besides, it's not as though the pretender would cause that much damage with it, at least in terms of the bigger picture. No one could possibly mess up your home galaxy as much as they have?"

"They?" I echoed.

Q made a hushing gesture. "Way over your head." He simply said, and I rolled my eyes while acquiescing.

"…you know," I pointed out after a moment. "This is technically my home galaxy…or at least it was in my previous life…or some other version of it, an alternate timeline or something. The Eugenics Wars certainly never happened in the world I came from."

Q snorted. "As you mentioned earlier," he remarked. "The Federation has such an overinflated sense of importance."

There was a flash of light, and then Q and I both found ourselves in what looked like…Earth? Earth of the past, that is, a city in the tropics, possibly South Asia given the styles of the people on the streets. They were all dressed for mourning, with countless candles burning and just as many people openly weeping.

Petals fluttered through the air as they were tossed onto the road, stoic men and women in dress uniforms riding horses or marching in formation. All were quiet and grim, as befitted a funeral procession of some kind, and then I blinked as the bier came into view, and I recognized the old man lying within.

"Khan Noonien Singh." I said.

"Yes." Q said simply.

"This is a timeline where he won…a timeline that should never exist…would never exist, if the Federation had its way." I remarked.

"And yet it exists." Q said. "No matter how much the Federation meddles in time to keep their timeline the only one, it exists. Curious, isn't it?"

"More like hypocritical." I snorted. "The Temporal Prime Directive, right?"

"And the Temporal Accords, among other things." Q said, looking and sounding amused, as he and I again vanished in a flash of light, only to reappear in a theater. Many different species made up the audience, which laughed as the actors on the set exaggeratedly played out a time traveler trying to change the past, only to return to the future to find it unchanged.

"Changing the past doesn't change your future." I quickly reasoned. "The point being that time travel is not the same as…travelling, between timelines."

Q clicked his tongue, and patted me on the back. "And with that," he remarked. "You've proven yourself smarter than most time travelers I've met."

"At the risk of stroking my ego, there is a reason you chose me for my role."

Q beamed again. "I did." He said. "But yes, you're right. So, you change the past, congratulations. Except time is so much vaster and more complicated than the Federation thinks or like to think. All they've done is alter the variables, resulting in the creation of a new timeline, while the original timeline continues unchanged and unaffected."

"They're confusing time travel with…timeline travel," I said. "And don't realize they've been doing both, and just assume when they return to their original timeline, or a timeline where a bad end to their original timeline has been averted, that the…unwanted timeline, has ceased to be."

"Yes." Q said, and we returned to the Courageous in a flash of light. "You were saying about your past life?"

"My world probably won't end up with the Federation, what with the Eugenics Wars having been averted." I said. "That's a good thing, no matter how I look at it…well, no. Does the Majestic Twelve exist there as well?"

"Well…" Q began, and again we vanished in a flash of light, only to end up in a darkened room filled with old men, dressed in frock coats and fitted trousers, talking about world politics over brandy while sitting around a wooden table. "…I wouldn't be so cavalier about your original timeline's future."

"Damn the Majestic Twelve." I spat, and Q laughed as we returned to the Courageous again.

"Good." He said. "You are angry. Very good. Use that anger. Don't rest on your laurels. Finish what you started, and set things right, or as right as you can make it. I chose you for a reason, so, don't disappoint me."

"…a chosen one?" I asked after a moment. "Me? Great…just great…you just had to inflate my ego…"

Q laughed. "Whether or not that's a good thing is something we shall see in the future." He said. "Ciao!"

And with a flash of light, Q was gone.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The First Battlegroup dropped out of hyperspace in the Kharzh'ulla System, the other battlegroups of the Imperial Expeditionary Force already present. Half of them were within striking range of the eponymous planet, while the other half were arrayed in the outer system, as a reserve.

Interdictor cruisers had already formed up an overlapping mass gravity shadow around and over the planet, making FTL travel impossible within the area-of-effect. And as the First Battlegroup cruised in to the join the forces near the planet, distant explosions could be seen around the planet's orbital ring.

First things first, though.

"That won't be necessary." I responded to Daala's acceptance of full responsibility for her fleet's losses in the early part of the siege. "While you did lose half of your fleet in battle, you also managed to preserve your fleet's entire battleship core. Furthermore, you managed to destroy the enemy command fleet, while also inflicting heavy losses on three other enemy fleets. That is a reasonable rate of exchange, and we are at war. Losses are inevitable. What matters is that said losses have meaning. And your losses weren't for nothing. Carry on, Admiral Daala."

"Yes, Admiral Targaryen." Daala said with a salute. "Thank you."

I nodded, and the other admiral's hologram cut out. "Status of Operation Catapult?" I asked the other hologram, that of General Cullan from the Imperial Military Corps of Engineers.

"Initial recon and survey have identified over a hundred asteroids suitable for our purposes." He replied. "We're narrowing down our final selection, after which we can begin weaponization."

"How long will it take?" I asked.

"Final selection should be finished within twenty-four hours." The general replied. "Weaponization should take about seventy-two hours, after which we need to move them into the inner system. And that might take some time."

"I see." I said with a nod. "Understandable, and besides, this is a siege. We expected something like this. Carry on, general. Expedite things as best you can, but no need to rush either. It's not as though we're on a clock."

"Yes, admiral." The general said with a salute, and I saluted back before the general's hologram cut out.

"We're settling in for a siege, then." Torrhen asked.

"Just as planned." I replied. "At least until Catapult is ready for its final stages. In the meantime, we'll keep the planet interdicted, and launch random bombing raids and assault boat attacks, as well as long-range torpedo bombardment. Just keep the enemy on their toes."

"Perhaps we should make propaganda broadcasts, admiral?" Sara proposed.

I blinked, and actually had to think it over. "That is an excellent idea, lieutenant." I finally said. "I wonder why we didn't think of that before…coordinate with the ISB and Imperial Intelligence, we could use this to soften the feddies up before Catapult is finally ready."

"Yes, admiral."

I nodded, and then turned back to the tactical display, dominated by the glowing orb of Kharzh'ulla.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Ion engines hummed as a squadron of TIE Bombers soared through the void towards Kharzh'ulla, escorted by three squadrons of V-Wings. Elsewhere across the planet's orbital space, similar formations made their through the void, and in the distance, explosions could be seen as capital ship-grade proton torpedoes were either intercepted in space or made contact with the orbital wing.

"Incoming Federation fighters…engage!" the word came over the encrypted line.

The V-Wings scattered as the TIE Bombers accelerated. The Federation fighters attempted to zero-in on the latter, but were forced to break off as the V-Wings swarmed them. Laser blasts burned bright through space, followed by phaser rounds as the Starfleet pilots fought back, dogfights erupting in the void.

"I have a lock." Lieutenant Ort called out. "Missile away."

A concussion missile erupted from his V-Wing's prow missile launcher, curving into the distance as it followed a Federation fighter, and making impact, turned it into a fireball blazing brightly in space. Then alarms began to sound as photon torpedoes were launched at the lieutenant, who banked hard to evade.

Phaser beams burned through space as the Federation fighter stayed on his tail, only to be forced to disengage as one of the lieutenant's wingmen arrived, chasing it off with a volley of laser blasts. "Thanks." The lieutenant said. "Where are the bombers?"

"…looks like they're making their attack run now." His wingman replied.

Indeed, the space right next to the orbital ring was sparkling with fire, as hastily-installed point-defense guns threw up volley after volley at the fast-flying TIE Bombers. The bombers jinked and wove along their course, avoiding direct hits even as their armor was scarred and pitted by the close-proximity energy surges.

Then a TIE Bomber went up into a fireball at a direct hit, inertia keeping its debris going to arc down and crash into the orbital ring below.

"Heavy anti-aircraft fire!" the word went out.

"Stay on target." The squadron leader firmly replied.

"Enemy reinforcements inbound!" another pilot barked.

"Stay on target." The squadron leader repeated.

"More fire coming…!" a third pilot began only to be abruptly cut off as his bomber was shot down.

"Stay on target." The squadron leader repeated again, and then narrowed his eyes as the targeting computer flashed. "Bombs away!"

Flashing proton bombs fell and glided on inertia towards their targets on the orbital wing. Explosions fountained into space, debris flying fast and hot, a line of fire and wreckage following in the wake of the bombers. Then an even bigger explosion went up, as a proton bomb hit an antimatter tank, the escaping fuel violently reacting to the surrounding matter.

This, in turn, set off a chain reaction that turned several square kilometers of the orbital ring into a radioactive wreck, held together only by the ancient construction beneath all the modern additions above. "Did you see that?" a pilot asked in shock and awe.

"Looks like we hit something important." Another pilot replied.

"That we did." The squadron leader replied. "Head back to base, loser buys drinks."

Laughter echoed across the encrypted line as the TIE Bombers flew back to their carrier.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Metal exploded in molten chunks as a latched-on assault boat blew their way into a corridor with demolition charges. The first Stormtrooper through was gunned down with precise shots to the face, overloading his shields and burning through his helmet to kill him. The second Stormtrooper met the same fate, but the ones behind them had wised up, some of them opening up with suppression fire while others pressed forward.

"…clankers!" the shout went up. "We've got clankers!"

"Ion grenades, now!" the order came.

Ion grenades whined as they were armed, and then waiting for a couple of seconds, the Stormtroopers tossed them at angle at the walls. They bounced and landed close to the androids, the slight delay before the toss giving the androids no time to pick up much less toss the grenades back.

Blue flashes lit up the corridor as the ion grenades went off, and the androids collapsed twitching. The Stormtroopers advanced, finishing off the androids before they could recover with point-blank blaster shots.

Then continuing to advance, they reached a local terminal, the platoon slicer quickly plugging in to pull up a map of the local area. "Incoming reinforcements." He warned, just in time for heavy gunners to position themselves at the nearby turbolifts.

They opened to reveal a mix of men and machines, the latter the first out of the turbolifts…

…and the first to die as heavy gunners opened up with E-Webs. This gave time for Starfleet Security to get into cover, only for themselves to die and the turbolifts to be disabled by the Stormtroopers simply tossing thermal detonators inside.

"…I have the plans." The slicer said after a few minutes. "Uploading data…now."

"Acknowledged." The platoon leader barked. "All squads, move out!"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

While the command squad and two others held the landing area and with it a line of retreat, three other squads spread out towards their target. As they went, they deployed gas charges, filling the corridors with nerve gas, killing any lurking Starfleet personnel in the surrounding rooms.

Naturally, this didn't work against androids, but the Empire had plenty of experience with battle droids. "Please lower your weapons…please lower your weapons…please lower your weapons…" an android kept repeating as it twitched on the floor, disabled by an ion grenade.

A single shot to the head took care of that, and then the Stormtroopers reached their destination. Using laser cutters, they tore open a secured Jeffries tube, then clambering through and around a pair of corners, entered a shaft. One Stormtrooper then stowed his blaster carbine while another readied an anti-armor missile.

"…clear!" the second Stormtrooper said after loading the missile, which the first Stormtrooper fired straight up. If not for their armor, the resulting explosion would have deafened them both, as it was, they still had to take cover from the falling debris.

"Prepare second shot!" the first Stormtrooper said, looking up afterward and seeing the now-exposed EPS main.

"…clear!" the second Stormtrooper said after loading another missile. Again, the first Stormtrooper fired, and this time both men were thrown off their feet as the EPS relay exploded. Lights went out as power failed in the entire section, as did artificial gravity. Thankfully, all Stormtroopers had zero-g training, meaning it was only really an inconvenience.

The plasma surge that made their suits very hot was more troubling, but they were alive, and made it back safely to the rendezvous point. "Mission accomplished." The platoon leader said over the encrypted line as they retreated to their assault boat. "Don't forget your anti-radiation pills once we're clear."

"Yes, sir." The two men who'd blown the EPS main replied, and then the hatch was closing, as the assault boat pulled away to head back to the fleet. Other assault boats as well, over a hundred kilometers of orbital ring left lightless and contaminated by nerve gas in their wake, along with hundreds of dead Starfleet personnel and just as many wrecked androids.

And still the Siege of Kharzh'ulla continued.
 

Jaenera Targaryen

Well-known member
This?
I'm really not aware of the significance.
I coopted it as the pre-Federation/United Earth identity of Section 31. That is, a shadow conspiracy aimed at manipulating world and later interstellar affairs to impose an ideological vision on reality. The supposedly perfect society of pre-Wolf 359 Federation was their end goal, but it was only achieved through a colossal, centuries-long social engineering program that would make the Chinese Communist Party green with envy, and even then depends on more than a bit of smoke and mirrors to stay functional.

The Borg, and then the Dominion shook it up, but Q finally lost his patience with the Federation still refusing to face reality resulting in this story.

Mind you, I did consider other potential names, like the Illuminati, the Freemasons, the Templar Order, even the Republican Party or even the Bank of England. The latter two were too politically-charged, the former three seemed a bit cliche (though I might come back to the Templars), and then I ran into a random reference to the Majestic Twelve, and decided it seemed a suitable name.
 

namar13766

Well-known member
There was a flash of light, and then Q and I both found ourselves in what looked like…Earth? Earth of the past, that is, a city in the tropics, possibly South Asia given the styles of the people on the streets. They were all dressed for mourning, with countless candles burning and just as many people openly weeping.

Petals fluttered through the air as they were tossed onto the road, stoic men and women in dress uniforms riding horses or marching in formation. All were quiet and grim, as befitted a funeral procession of some kind, and then I blinked as the bier came into view, and I recognized the old man lying within.

"Khan Noonien Singh." I said.

"Yes." Q said simply.

"This is a timeline where he won…a timeline that should never exist…would never exist, if the Federation had its way." I remarked.


Is this a reference to Khan Victorious?
 
Chapter 25

Jaenera Targaryen

Well-known member
As the Siege of Kharzh'ulla entered its second week, skirmishes continued to rage in the hundreds of thousands of empty space extending between the planet and the Imperial blockade. This particular skirmish, though, would be different from the previous ones, as it would see the Klingons joining the siege.

The Sovereign Class Starship (roughly equivalent to an Imperial heavy cruiser) USS Maximilian Robespierre opened the skirmish with its main phaser array firing no less than six times in the space of just two seconds over a distance of sixty thousand kilometers. Her sister ship, the Sovereign Class Starship USS Jean-Paul Marat followed up with three shots also from its main phaser array over the same distance.

Trailing behind the two bigger vessels, the Nebula Class Starship (roughly equivalent to an Imperial medium cruiser) USS Jacobin also fired its main phaser array. Only four shots in just two seconds, but easily matching its bigger cousins' range. Then Jean-Paul Marat fired its main phaser array again, with Maximilian Robespierre following up before taking a few seconds to adjust its target, and firing off three phaser blasts in one second.

On the other side of the battlefield, a Klingon Bird-of-Prey cruised on a perpendicular course past the Federation vessels. Its shields flickered as phaser blasts splattered against them, while also brushing aside the wreckage of the battle. Green blasts burned through space as the Klingon vessel's disruptors fired again and again, punctuated by the blazing pulses of no less than five photon torpedoes.

Repeated hits from disruptors and photon torpedoes briefly caused a flicker in Jean-Paul Marat's forward shields, allowing the last Klingon torpedo to punch through and collapse the Federation vessel's prow in a massive explosion.

The skirmish escalated then, as five TIE Bombers swooped in from the flank, the darkness of space lighting up as the Federation vessels opened up with hastily-installed flak cannons. The TIE Bombers jinked and wove through the energy blasts erupting along their course, before lobbing their payloads of proton bombs at Maximilian Robespierre, inertia keeping the bombs going even as the TIE Bombers swooped away.

To the Federation's credit, their shields held against the onslaught of proton bombs, with Jacobin briefly cutting through the Imperial jamming to avenge the attack with its main phaser array. Four shots in one second, shooting down all but one TIE Bomber before Imperial jamming again scrambled long-range targeting.

Maximilian Robespierre then fired its main phaser array, six shots in two seconds, with Jean-Paul Marat following through. The first barrage collapsed the Klingon shields, while the second barrage caused critical damage, forcing the crippled vessel to retreat, covered by another Bird-of-Prey. It was this second Klingon vessel that Jacobin targeted, firing its main phaser array four times in two seconds.

The Klingons responded with disruptor fire and a trio of torpedoes, before a salvo of phaser blasts knocked out its shields, and forcing it to peel away. Maximilian Robespierre fired off several phaser blasts in its wake, before being joined by Jean-Paul Marat in laying down curtain fire to cover the arrival of a trio of Excelsior Class Starships (equivalent to Imperial heavy cruisers). They immediately opened fire with their phasers, joined in moments later by Jacobin.

By now, the Empire was moving to fill the gap the Klingon withdrawal had left, ARC-170 Starfighters flying straight towards Maximilian Robespierre. Proton torpedoes burned bright through space as they soared past flak to explode against the Federation vessel's shields, Imperial pilots flying straight overhead as energy blasts erupted all around them, the fire intensifying the closer they got to the Federation vessel, to the point it was as if they were flying through a kaleidoscope as they flew over the Maximilian Robespierre, one ARC-170 exploding into a cloud of debris from a point-blank hit from a Federation flak cannon.

At the same time, a squadron of Y-Wing Bombers climbed unnoticed up the z-axis before coming about to dive out of the stars towards Maximilian Robespierre at a 90-degree angle. Unlike the ARC-170s, the Y-Wings had a clear approach, neither the Federation's phasers, torpedoes, or even flak cannon able to fire straight up. Dropping off their proton bombs close to point-blank range, the Y-Wings leveled out along the x-axis before peeling off, the surrounding space a storm of energy from Federation flak and explosions against its shields.

Jacobin and an Excelsior fired their main phaser arrays at the retreating Y-Wings, but they themselves were now coming under dive bombing attacks. Proton bombs collapsed the Jacobin's shields, allowing a proton bomb to punch into the bridge between the saucer and the dorsal-rear hull before exploding, and blowing the dorsal-rear hull clean off, forcing the Jacobin to retreat, covered by an Excelsior.

More ARC-170s now targeted Maximilian Robespierre, proton torpedoes pounding against its shields. Jean-Paul Marat also came under attack, its shields collapsing under repeated torpedo hits, allowing an unfortunate ARC-170 to land a lucky hit at its engine section. Flak shot down said ARC-170, but its torpedo knocked out Jean-Paul Marat's main power, with a warp core breach only delayed long enough for the failing reactor to be ejected, its explosion lighting up space for tens of thousands of kilometers.

By now Starfleet was retreating, with the last shots of the battle being a strafing run on Jean-Paul Marat's bridge by ARC-170s before the crippled vessel managed to withdraw covered by Maximilian Robespierre and two Excelsiors.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

On day thirteen of the Siege of Khazh'ulla, Starfleet launched a sortie against the Imperial blockade. The target was the Vindicator Class Heavy Cruiser Vindictive, Starfleet committing sixty Peregrine fighters divided into five squadrons. The Empire had seen them coming, however, with the Vindictive maneuvering its dorsal hull to face the incoming Starfleet attack craft.

"Weapons free." The order went out. "Fire."

"Target locked…firing!" the lead Peregrine signaled.

"Firing!" the second Peregrine signaled in its turn.

Photon torpedoes flashed across space, eating up thousands of kilometers in minutes to slam against the Vindictive's particle shields, which flickered from the impact. "Shifting attack vectors…" the lead Peregrine signaled while banking to port. "…switching to plasma torpedoes, and firing!"

Plasma torpedoes strobed with white light as they launched from the Peregrines, Starfleet channels filled with cursing as they urged their torpedoes to actually penetrate. No good; again, while the torpedo volley hammered the cruiser's shields, they held fast.

"Incoming fighters!" the warning went out.

"Break formation!" the wing commander barked. "ENGAGE!"

The Peregrines broke formation, dogfights erupting across space as Peregrines fought against V-Wings and TIE Fighters. "Bandit on my six!" the wing commander signaled while evading emerald lances from a TIE Fighter.

"On it, commander." His wingman signaled. "Torpedo away!"

A torpedo flashed across nearly a hundred kilometers in barely a few second before turning the TIE Fighter into burning scrap. "Watch those Imperial ships!" the wing commander barked as sensors spotted CR90s and Carracks moving to englobe the Starfleet sortie. "They'll cut off our line of retreat!"

Then he grunted in dismay, as he saw a Peregrine ahead to starboard get shot down by a TIE Fighter. Alarms sounded as two more Peregrines went down soon after, shot to pieces by TIE Fighters. "If only we could use warp!" he cursed. "Damn interdictors…squadron leaders, abort engagement! Fall back immediately! I repeat, abort engagement! Fall back!"

There was no response, a single look at the display showing all squadron leaders were down. What Peregrines were left were responding quickly, however, trying to escape while being chased down by V-Wings and TIE Fighters, the enemy's superior numbers allowing them to simultaneously chase down Peregrines from the rear and keeping the latter occupied, allow another Imperial to shoot them down from the front or the sides.

"Bandits on our six!" the wing commander's wingman barked.

The warning was punctuated by blue beams from a V-Wing's laser cannons, the wing commander and his wingman's Peregrines weaving back and forth to avoid getting shot down. "Sir…about warp…I might have an idea…" the wingman desperately began.

"Now's not the time to experiment…" the wing commander began only to abruptly break off as his aft shields collapsed from a direct hit. "…alright, let's try it out."

"Roger…setting warp coils to resonate at a matching frequency to the graviton flux of the Imperial interdictors' simulated gravity field…"

"Hurry it up ensign…"

"Standing by to engage Warp One…engage!"

The other Peregrine's nacelles began to glow, as if to jump to warp…

…and in the next second, they exploded, the warp coils blowing themselves apart and causing a power surge that set off a warp core breach. "NO!" the wing commander shouted, but it was too late, his wingman already dead in a massive explosion.

The only upside was the explosion was enough to destroy one V-Wing and damage the other, causing it to retreat, allowing the wing commander to escape, the only survivor of his ill-fated sortie against the Imperial blockade.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Let's go angels!"

"ROGER!"

On the fifteenth day of the Siege of Kharzh'ulla, the 101st 'Cloud Dragons' Independent Air Wing of the Imperial Navy launched a sortie against the planet's orbital ring. They were led by Lieutenant-Commander Hela Calgaris of the Scarlet Angels Squadron, composed of twelve V-Wings, all piloted by Clone War veterans.

Not that any of the pilots were clones, though.

They were all, each and every one of them, born the normal way. Unlike soft and effete people of the Core, Valyrians of every stripe didn't shy back from the war, least of all when it was fought by upstart Outer Rim yokels and corporate parvenus. Even now, with the Clone Wars long over, and the Galactic Republic reorganized into the (first) Galactic Empire (!), the Valyrians continued to serve proudly.

Even more so, since it was an open secret that the Emperor was also the reigning Dark Lord of the Sith.

A worthy successor then, to the mantle of the great and glorious Darth Revan. Hero. Savior. Conqueror. Victor of the Mandalorian Wars. Slayer of the dread Mandalore the Ultimate. Dark Lord of the Sith.

The Valyrians of his day and age had been proud to march and fly under his banner, and later on, under the six-pointed star of Dromund Kaas.

How could the Valyrians of this day and age do any less, and not march and fly under the banner of Darth Sidious?

In addition to the Scarlet Angels, there were also the Silver Wolves, also composed of twelve V-Wings, for a total of twenty-four V-Wings flying escort duty. In their wake flew a total of twenty-eight Y-Wings, divided between the Black Falcons and the Sable Serpents Squadrons. All fifty-two attack craft swooped down to fly low over Kharzh'ulla's orbital ring, low enough to practically skim over the surface, various abandoned structures and other outcroppings along the ring blurring past as the Imperial attack craft flew towards their target.

"Starfleet has finally realized the stupidity of trying to defend the entire orbital ring, and thus spread their forces too thinly. Well, they had to use their brains eventually."

Laughter echoed across the briefing room, from the gathered Valyrian pilots as well as the scarred and grizzled wing commander standing next to the holo-projector at the head of the room. "Starfleet has concentrated their forces and AAA around key locations: energy production, sensor nodes, communication relays, and of course, the shipyards." The wing commander said, pointing a baton at the hologram. "Among other things, but those aren't important right now. Your target, will be this set of yards, codenamed by Starfleet as Port Invincible."

Contemptuous snorts went up from the pilots, but the wing commander was unfazed. "It's heavily-defended, surrounded by AAA batteries supported by overlapping fighter patrols." He continued. "Our Klingon allies will be launching a sortie of their own to draw away as much of the enemy fighters, but Starfleet's not stupid enough to deprive themselves of a fighter umbrella. A frontal assault is possible, but it'd be a waste of time when our objective isn't the fighters, but the yards themselves."

"Meaning we'll have to fly in low, under the radar, and bomb them to bits before they realize what's up." One pilot remarked.

"Precisely." The wing commander said with a nod. "As you can see here, these yards also house hundreds of ships, ranging from Defiant Class Corvettes to Excelsior and Akira Class Medium Cruisers. This is a prime opportunity to destroy an entire fleet at harbor."

"Or with the harbor itself." Another pilot remarked. "I like it."

"I'm guessing that's another reason why we can't just launch a frontal assault." A third pilot pointed out. "The feddies would see us coming, and launch their fleet before we get a chance to blow them to Chaos."

"You'll have your chance." The wing commander firmly said. "You'll all have your chance. Now then, the mission plan…"


Hela flew low and fast, her V-Wing gracefully weaving through the labyrinth of abandoned orbital infrastructure. A gentle left here, then a gently but long right here, and then a sharp and equally loft left, followed by a short space to level out before a gentle right and levelling out again.

"Here we go, angels." Hela said while turning left. "Alpha Point – let's dance!"

"ROGER!"

The Scarlet Angels flew fast over the last few kilometers, then rolled sideways and through a narrow space between two orbital structures. The Silver Wolves followed, then the Black Falcons, but the second Y-Wing through failed to roll properly, causing them to clip a wing, and causing their Y-Wing to plummet in a blazing death ride to explode against the surface. The rest of the squadron grimly flew on, Lieutenant Raegon Mellarys of the Sable Serpents dipping his wings as he lead his squadron through and past Alpha Point out of respect for the fallen.

Past Alpha Point, the Imperial attack craft turned hard to the right, then gently to the left, and hard again to the right, with Bravo Point right ahead. Once again, they rolled to get through the narrow space between orbital structures, this time taking no casualties as they continued along the no man's land above the orbital ring.

"Right, angels." Hela began after several minutes. "Charlie Point's up ahead, don't forget, aileron roll…HERE WE GO!"

Hela was first through Charlie Point, her V-Wing aileron rolling though and past Charlie Point. The Scarlet Angels followed one after another in her wake with no losses, but Lieutenant Jaenor Agaleos of the Silver Wolves wingmen weren't so lucky. One of them slammed clean into the portside structure, flying debris clipping the next V-Wing and causing them to spiral out of control into the starboard structure. The third V-Wing flew too low and slammed into the ground, but the rest of the squadron managed to get through.

"SHIT!" one of the Black Falcons shouted as he lost his nerve and flew up, right into Starfleet sights.

Photon torpedoes shot up into space, the high-flying Y-Wing going up in flames.

"We're made…SHIT!" another pilot angrily spat.

"Not yet we aren't!" Hela quickly countered. "Keep going! The mission's not over until the fat man's drinking from the wine bottle!"

As if on cue, she rolled right and through and past Delta Point, the Scarlet Angels following in her wake. "Scarlet Leader, be advised." The encoded line warned. "Enemy attack craft on approach."

"I see them." Hela growled. "What are they…oh."

She broke off as the Federation attack craft bombed their course, turning the rest of their flight path into a blazing inferno. "Double-power to shields." Hela ordered while adjusting her controls. "Looks like the last approach isn't going to be quick and clean, but we've all earned our wings dozens of times, so let's show them what we've got!"

"ROGER!" the rest of the Valyrian chorused as they flew into the inferno, shields flickering as they struggled to keep the Imperial attack craft unharmed.

High above, the flight of six Federation attack craft flew fast and away, confident in their success and stunned at the Imperials' seeming mindlessness, preferring to die in a fire than retreat in defeat. That is, until a concussion missile flew up and fast and shot down the rearmost Federation attack craft.

"Hello, boys!" Hela said over an open line as she piloted her V-Wing into open space. "You owe us a dance!"

"And there's nothing like dancing with angels!" one of her wingmen added.

"So, just die already!" her other wingmen concluded, the Scarlet Angels breaking formation to dogfight their Federation counterparts.

Hela then launched a concussion missile, and shot down another Federation fighter. Meanwhile, her wingmen opened with their laser cannons, weaving and turning across space to keep on their quarries' tails, and tore up two more Federation fighters. By this point, more Federation fighters were arriving, only to run into the Silver Wolves, with Jaenor quickly shooting down a Federation fighter with a concussion missile.

"Commencing bombing run!" the word went out over the encoded line.

With Federation fighters in the airspace, the Federation flak cannons were effectively silenced, giving the Y-Wings a clean run at Port Invincible. The Federation vessels at the yards were already powering up, crew and port personnel scrambling to launch the fleet before they could be destroyed, with a few beginning to clear their moors, but it was too late.

"Happy Empire Day!" a Valyrian cheerfully greeted over an open line as she dropped no less than twenty proton bombs in her wake.

She wasn't the only one, as the Y-Wings of the Black Falcons and Sable Serpents dropped bombs across Port Invincible. Explosions erupted in their wake, yards and ships exploding before leaking antimatter caused even bigger secondary explosions in a near self-sustaining chain reaction. In less than a minute, over two hundred Defiant corvettes, over a hundred Excelsior and Akira medium cruisers, a number of Nebula medium cruisers, a few Galaxy medium cruisers, and even a single Sovereign heavy cruiser, the USS Francois Hanriot, had been destroyed, and nearly two hundred thousand Starfleet personnel had been killed.

"So much for Port Invincible!" a Scarlet Angel mocked as they flew away.

"Mission accomplished." Hela simply said while adjusting her controls. "Let's go home."

Engines blazing, the Scarlet Angels and other Imperial attack craft headed back to the fleet.
 
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The Whispering Monk

Well-known member
Osaul
She wasn't the only one, as the Y-Wings of the Black Falcons and Sable Serpents dropped bombs across Port Invincible. Explosions erupted in their wake, yards and ships exploding before leaking antimatter caused even bigger secondary explosions in a near self-sustaining chain reaction. In less than a minute, over two hundred Defiant corvettes, over a hundred Excelsior and Akira medium cruisers, a number of Nebula medium cruisers, a few Galaxy medium cruisers, and even a single Sovereign heavy cruiser, the USS Francois Hanriot, had been destroyed, and nearly two hundred thousand Starfleet personnel had been killed.

"So much for Port Invincible!" a Scarlet Angel mocked as they flew away.
Oof! That's gonna leave a mark!
 

Crom's Black Blade

Well-known member
The same could go for ground troops. Starfleet Security aren't even light infantry, and barely count as militia. They could count as (plainclothes) police, and barely as naval armsmen. Their equipment is also a joke. No body armor. Limited squad support and heavy weapons, i.e. no machine guns while recoilless rifles are few and far in between. No artillery. Limited air support, if barely.

Their small arms also suffer from several design deficiencies. The Type-1 Phaser has horrible ergonomics, with no sights, poor trigger design, poor grip, poor overall design, and lacks a trigger guard. The Type-2 Phaser i.e. their SMG variant, similarly has no sights, lacks a stock, and still has no trigger guard. The Type-3 Phaser, i.e. their rifle variant, is somewhat solid, with a stock and trigger guard, though still lacking sights in case the built-in scope is ever compromised.

In contrast, Imperial Stormtroopers are solidly-equipped. Their body armor is proof against all man-portable solid-projectile weapons, provides protection against all but the most virulent toxins and biological agents, provides full protection up to Level 2 radiation environments and limited protection against Level 3 radiation environments, while heat sinks and limited energy shielding provides protection against energy weapons. Not enough to avoid incapacitation from direct hits, but enough to avoid death, and guarantees full recovery after a session in a bacta tank. The helmets have encrypted commlinks, can see through smoke and at night, and even features thermal gear.

Their weapons are solid. Both their blaster carbines and heavy pistols have solid ergonomics, and the latter provides rifle-grade firepower at close ranges. They have excellent squad support and heavy weapons, between machine guns and light rocketry. Artillery support is available on request, ditto for air support.
Well it's your story, you can certainly portray the two sides anyway you want. But based on their actual track record I know who I'd rather have on my side. xD
 
Chapter 26

Jaenera Targaryen

Well-known member
On the eighteenth day of the Siege of Kharzh'ulla, a group of men and women in unmarked grey uniforms gathered in a half-lit room on the planet below. The room itself didn't appear on any map or architectural plan, and simply didn't exist as far as the planetary authorities, Starfleet, and the Federation were concerned. The men and women in the room were similarly…unimportant, at least outwardly, assuming they were even worth publicly knowing about to begin with. Otherwise, they also didn't exist.

"General," Howard Langley began while tracing a finger along a graph on a PADD sitting on a table before a desk. "Starfleet's losses have reached the point that even if we defeat the Imperial Expedition here at Kharzh'ulla, we will not be able to restore federal authority over breakaway states. Or, for that matter, to fend off opportunistic attacks from foreign powers, such as the Romulans or the Klingons, among others. The Federation…"

"Sloan's task force should render all the Empire's gains moot," General Cameron Garza, the true power behind Section 31, interrupted. "Indeed, the Empire will never have reached this galaxy to begin with."

"…General Garza…" Langley hesitantly began after taking a moment to lick his suddenly dry lips. "…Sloan's task force…"

"Sloan's task force no longer exists." Michel Auberjonois cut in. "Temporal sensors indicated that after repeated failures, the grand master led what remained of his forces in a final jump across time, only to be temporo-spatially displaced into Sagittarius A's event horizon approximately sixty million years ago."

There was a long moment of silence, and then reaching up with a shaky hand, Garza rubbed his chin. "The following men will remain in the room…" he began after a few moments. "…Langley…Auberjonois…Bishop…and Vaughn."

Except for those named, the rest of the people in the room silently filed out and left, leading the guardians and the elders' representative alone with the general. The four men composed themselves, as though for their impending deaths. To his credit, though, the general waited until everyone else had left and the door had closed before exploding.

"HOW DARE YOU?" he roared while slamming a fist onto his desk. "SLOAN FAILED? HE HAD THE RESPONSIBILITY OF RESTORING THE FEDERATION TO PEACE AND STABILITY, AND HE FAILED? WORTHLESS INCOMPETENTS, EACH AND EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU!"

Even with the closed doors, the general's roaring could be heard outside, those closest to the doors recoiling with shock and fear. Further to the back, a young man only recently inducted began to sob, prompting an older woman to place a comforting hand on his back.

Inside, the general was on his feet, but was seemingly lost for words, only glaring and seething at the guardians standing silent before his desk. "How are we to achieve the perfect society," he finally ground out while pacing away from his desk, and past Jessie Vaughn by the back wall. "When the supposedly enlightened elite at its head prove themselves useless and disloyal liars?"

Words failed the general again, and returning to his desk, he slumped down into his chair. "Out…out, all of you…" he finally said, in a soft, almost whispering voice, all the while looking drained and defeated.

"Perhaps we should decentralize operations and disperse our operatives?" Vaughn asked softly, causing eyes to turn to her. "The Federation is clearly lost, and all attempts to reestablish contact with Uraei have failed. If so, why not simply start over from a clean slate?"

"…there is precedent." Auberjonois admitted after a long moment. "The Third World War undid a century's worth of our 21st Century predecessors' work, but they recovered in the end. Indeed, even the unexpected variable that was first contact and alien influence was something that was ultimately turned to our advantage. Why not do the same to the Empire?"

"We can't…that's unthinkable…!" Chris Bishop breathed in protest.

"The Empire has clearly won the war already." Auberjonois continued with missing a beat, while the general began to brighten up at the realization of the possibilities beyond the Federation. "If so, why fight the inevitable, when there are other options worth exploring?"

"We can't just abandon the Federation!" Bishop spluttered in outrage. "If we did…over two hundred years of work…millions of sacrifices…not just in this war, but all the previous wars as well…what will they have been for?"

"Don't be so sentimental." Garza immediately reproved. "You only dishonor your rank and office by doing so, especially when the Federation has proven itself a failed experiment. No, we will accept reality, and move on to greater things. Inform all rites that we are to execution Contingency 9066 immediately, with the amendment to await further instructions as per Protocol D57."

Any further orders were lost as alarms began to sound, as the battle in the skies above heated up once more.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

At eight points across the Imperial lines, squadrons of six Dreadnought Class Heavy Cruisers had arrived from the outer system. Each squadron towed a colossal asteroid behind them, their tractor beams invisible streams of energy between the Imperial ships and the gigantic rocks they drew across space.

Imperial jamming kept Starfleet from getting any detailed scans, but jamming had no effect on long-distance scopes. Asteroids were obviously, well, asteroids, and it didn't take long to discern the colossal metal beams crisscrossing each asteroid, meant to properly distribute force across its body and provide scaffolding to attach additional mechanisms onto.

In fact, weaponizing asteroids was deceptively simple. One simply needed engines, stabilizers, and a guidance system. What took time was installing all those, to say nothing of finding asteroids suitable for use as weapons.

That, and asteroids weren't regular in build the way starships were, and that had to be accounted for by the guidance system. And since most off-the-shelf guidance systems were never meant to be used for makeshift projectiles like weaponized asteroids, the Empire's electronic specialists needed to reprogram guidance systems for such a purpose, which took time.

That said, that wasn't why it took so long to bring Operation Catapult into play. No, that was because of how long it took to travel via sub-light from the outer system to Kharzh'ulla itself. Not without slapping hyperdrives onto the asteroids, and further complicating guidance issues, to say nothing of needing to add additional systems to switch from hyperdrive to sub-light drives when the time came to launch Operation Catapult.

It wasn't as if you could use hyperdrive to weaponize an asteroid, after all. That was just basic physics, the kind that children learned in high school.

Well, it had been done in bad science fiction, but that was just it: bad science fiction.

And the Imperial Navy – or just the Imperial Military Corps of Engineers – had to attend to reality.

"Admiral," Sara began. "Enemy ships are on approach. It seems that Starfleet has divined the thrust of Operation Catapult and are moving to intercept."

"So it would seem." I concurred. "Signal all fleets: open fire. That said, no need to be too aggressive. Simply destroy each and every enemy ship in range, while also keeping the asteroids' course clear of obstructions. We wouldn't to throw off our aim, would we now?"

"No, we wouldn't, admiral." Sara said with a nod before relaying my orders.

In the meantime, I turned to the hologram of the man in charge of bringing Operation Catapult to a successful conclusion. "General Cullan," I began. "You may begin."

"Yes, admiral." The man said with a salute before turning to address the bridge of his flagship, the Dreadnought Class Heavy Cruiser Warspite while keeping the channel open. "Catapult Force, come about!"

Across the battlefield, the Dreadnoughts of the Catapult Force came about in unison. "Catapult Force, maximum power to tractor beams and inertial dampeners." Cullan continued. "Breachers One through Eight, standby to engage thrusters at full power on my mark, Catapult Force, standby for maximum power, again on my…mark!"

Fusion torches affixed to the rear of every asteroid lit up white-hot with plasma as they went to maximum power, with the Catapult Force's Dreadnoughts simultaneously setting their engines to full power. Asteroids and cruisers alike trembled as the former's forward thrust was canceled out by the latter's forward thrust only in the opposite direction. Unlike the cruisers, though, the asteroids lacked inertial dampeners, meaning while they weren't their acceleration continued to build unlike the cruisers.

"Tractor beam generators overloading…!" an officer warned Cullan on the Warspite's bridge. "Forty-five seconds to collapse."

"Hold position." Cullan firmly said, eyes on holographic gauges measuring time and estimated acceleration alike. "Maintain thrust."

"Starfleet vessels now entering firing range!" another warning went up.

"Leave them to the rest of the fleet." Cullan replied. "Hold out for ten more seconds!"

"Twenty-two seconds before the tractor beam generators collapse!" the previous officer warned, and then the Warspite shook hard, enough to throw men to their feet. "Primary inertial dampeners are down, secondaries are up, but they won't last long!"

"…five…four…three…two…one…now!" Cullan barked. "Release the Breakers!"

As one, the Catapult Force disengaged their tractor beams. Even with inertial dampeners active, the cruisers still threw themselves several thousand kilometers forward with the loss of the asteroids' counter-thrust, and in so short a time to throw men off their feet.

As for the asteroids themselves, they crossed over two hundred thousand kilometers of space in just seven seconds, and simultaneously struck the orbital ring. Along the way, a number of Federation vessels had found themselves in the asteroids' course, with a few even deliberately having positioned themselves just so in a desperate suicide run to stop the asteroids.

For all their trouble, only bits and pieces of alloy and polymer compounds were lift adrift in space from the Federation starships getting pancaked by the asteroids.

As for the orbital ring itself, the force of impact alone destroyed all the orbital infrastructure built on the ancient megastructure. Federation vessels docked at the ring or located within a certain distance were also destroyed, explosions erupting across space as released antimatter reacted violently with the surrounding debris.

Had the Empire struck at the ring with one or two or even three asteroids, the ancient megastructure might have survived in relatively undamaged condition. Broken into large pieces certainly, and all the orbital infrastructure would still have been destroyed, but relatively intact for all that.

But the Empire had struck it with eight asteroids, all moving at relativistic speeds.

As such, the orbital ring simply shattered.

Then explosions began erupting across Kharzh'ulla's orbital space, as the ring's fragments reacted with all the antimatter from destroyed Federation vessels and storage facilities. Others were dragged in by the planet's gravity, burning up in the atmosphere in a deceptively-beautiful meteor shower that lit up the world's skies with thousands upon thousands of burning trails. In fact, the meteor shower would continue for decades after the war, as debris left over from the battle kept getting dragged into the atmosphere.

But that was still far in the future.

In the present, the final stages of the Siege of Kharzh'ulla were playing out.

"Mayday! Mayday! The captain's dead! Antimatter containment failing! Mayday!"

"This is Captain Elliot Holmes of the USS Philadelphia! We surrender, I repeat we surrender!"

"Cowards! Fight! Fight for your lives! For your families! For your homes! FIGHT!"

Countless other similar transmissions were being broadcast over open and encoded transmissions, Sara looking at me quizzically. "Your orders, admiral?" she asked.

"As planned," I began. "We will accept the surrender of any enemy vessels that do so. Those that refuse to surrender will be destroyed."

"Yes, admiral."

I nodded before frowning. "Signal Colonel Brecha." I said. "Once we have complete control of Kharzh'ulla's orbit, we will begin landing operations immediately. Prioritize the capture of the Federation President, Min Zife. We'll need him to unconditionally surrender."

"Driving home the unquestionable fact of the Federation's loss of this war." Torrhen rumbled, and I nodded again.

"Precisely." I said, before focusing on the tactical display, and Starfleet's last stand.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Sir," a man hurriedly said as he caught up to Bishop. "Starfleet has completely collapsed, and the Empire is beginning to land troops. They've already achieved air supremacy, and sensors have detected three Acclamator Class Transports in the first wave of Imperial landings. Furthermore, despite Imperial jamming, we suspect between six to nine more Acclamators being held back in the second wave."

"…I…see." Bishop said softly while continuing down the corridor.

"What now, sir?" his subordinate asked.

Bishop took a deep breath. "The general is of the opinion that not just the war, but the Federation itself is lost." He finally said. "A failed experiment, he called it…and the other guardians agree, as does Elder Vaughn."

"Then…"

Bishop took his time to answer. The general might have made his decision, and the other guardians had decided to follow his lead, but Bishop in good conscience couldn't. The Federation…

…they were so close. After thousands of years, the dream of a perfect, peaceful, and orderly society led by an enlightened intellectual elite was about to become reality. Class divisions had all but disappeared, the economy had been completely automated, even people's darker impulses were well on their way of being bred out of not just Humanity, but the various other species that made up the Federation…

…utopia had never been so close.

"Damn the Empire…they've ruined everything!" Bishop cursed. "And now the general and others want to give up on it all, and start over from scratch? Madness! How many times in the past millennia has the dream come so close to being lost forever? How many times have we found ourselves pushed to the brink of extinction? We're so close…even with the Empire's interference…we can still salvage something out of this…even if we're set back by our losses, at the very least, it won't be as much as if we have to start from a blank slate. But to go against the general…it's treason…mutiny most foul…but it's the right thing to do. And done right…he might be convinced of that fact, especially if the Inner Sanctum and the Council of Elders can be convinced as well…but it has to be framed right…done right…as with all things…"

"…the Federation is lost," Bishop said aloud, the words tasting like ashes in his mouth. "But that doesn't mean all our efforts for the past centuries have been for nought. In particular, we need to reinforce Grand Master Soriano, and provide him with additional resources. I don't know how the Empire did it, much less how they found out about Uraei in the first place, but we need to reestablish contact with Uraei."

"I'll have it done immediately, sir." Bishop's subordinate said with a nod.

"We also need to secure Section 31's assets, as well as those of other Majestic 12 branches, beyond those overlapping with the Order." Bishop continued. "Assign Commanders May and Butler to the task, and give them everything we need."

"Yes, sir."

"We'll also need to organize a proper resistance," Bishop added. "And not give the Empire an opportunity to consolidate their conquests, much less assimilate our citizens. If possible, we should also look into establishing a presence in their home galaxy, but it's probably best to leave that as a long-term goal."

"As you say, sir."

Bishop sighed. "First things first, though." He said. "All this would be meaningless if the Empire captures us all. We need to evacuate this planet, and without tipping off the Empire."

"Arrangements have already been made with regard to that issue, sir." Bishop's subordinate said.

"Very good."

The two men emerged from the corridor into a raised catwalk overlooking a hidden hangar, a large shuttle sitting in the middle facing a sealed pair of blast doors. Men and women in grey fatigues under dark body armor milled around below, Bishop sparing them only a quick glance before heading down through a flight of stairs.

They'd barely stepped foot on the hangar when the shuttle exploded, and Bishop's world turned into crimson pain.

"…it hurts…by God, it hurts…it hurts so much…" he thought to himself, his eyes wet and blurry, hearing only a high-pitched ringing as he struggled to move, only he could barely feel his arms and hands through the pain, and his legs not at all. "…who…who could have done this? It couldn't have been the Empire…it just couldn't…no…it can't be…that's not possible…"

Through the crimson haze of blood, sweat, tears, and pain, Bishop saw hooded figures prowling through the smoke and flames, looking for survivors and dispatching them with single shots from small, concealable pistols. His eyes, though, focused on the subtly-hidden symbolism of their buttons, brooches, and other such things that would easily slip the attention of the less attentive.

"…it just can't be them" he silently revolted against what he was seeing. "they're all dead…we killed them all…bred out the last of their kind during the Eugenics Wars…it's just not possible…"

That was the last thing Bishop thought, before a disruptor blast vaporized his head.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The (provisional) Presidential Palace on Kharzh'ulla had fallen quickly. In fact, there had barely been any resistance at all, with the place already half-looted by the time the Imperial Stormtroopers had arrived. With Starfleet annihilated in the skies above, most would-be hostiles on the ground had either mutinied or deserted, with those that didn't surrendering either in sullenness or barely-restrained despair as the Empire landed its troops.

"Secure any cultural and scientific vaults the Federation secreted away!" a senior ISB agent ordered. "We must tie up as many loose ends as we can before they can even become problems to begin with."

"Sir!" the other ISB agents responded with salutes, before spreading out accompanied by Stormtrooper support.

The next couple of hours were spent securing what hadn't been carried away by the looters, with the palace's archives and databases thankfully untouched. Unfortunately, a great many artworks were simply lost in the near-anarchy, and uncontrolled fires had destroyed much of what hadn't been carried away.

Meanwhile, the First Battlegroup had descended to fly low over the planetary capital, accompanied by the flagships of several other battlegroups, Vice Admiral Torrhen leading several other flag officers to inspect the palace and what had been recovered thus far. Meanwhile, Admiral Targaryen and her adjutant, Lieutenant Sara, personally received the surrender of President Zife.

"Speaking freely, admiral," Sara began while walking beside Targaryen away from where the cuffed former president was being escorted off-world. "They might be our enemies, but I can't help but pity the Federation. Here and now, at their nadir…even after everything they've cost us to get to this point…they're just so pitiful…"

"It can't be helped, I suppose." Targaryen replied. "Their world might as well have ended, fallen to pieces around them, like ashes running through their hands."

Sara chuckled. "Very poetic, admiral." She said, before their conversation fell into a lull as they passed by several senior Federation officials, cuffed and being escorted away by Imperial Stormtroopers. None of them looked up at the Imperial admirals, and indeed, seemed to be consciously keeping from meeting their eyes.

Sara shook her head at the sight. "Pitiful…enemies or not, what a sad end for an interstellar state!" she concluded.

"Yes…" Targaryen said with a nod before giving a smile. "…their world…their time is over. And now, it's our turn."

Sara nodded her agreement, keeping pace with her superior as they continued on their way.

So ended the Siege of Kharzh'ulla, on AD 2376, Imperial Calendar 20.

Here, Starfleet was destroyed.

Here, the United Federation of Planets met its end.
 
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Yinko

Well-known member
"The Empire has clearly won the war already." Auberjonois continued with missing a beat, while the general began to brighten up at the realization of the possibilities beyond the Federation. "If so, why fight the inevitable, when there are other options worth exploring?"

"We can't just abandon the Federation!" Bishop spluttered in outrage. "If we did…over two hundred years of work…millions of sacrifices…not just in this war, but all the previous wars as well…what will they have been for?"

"Don't be so sentimental." Garza immediately reproved. "You only dishonor your rank and office by doing so, especially when the Federation has proven itself a failed experiment. No, we will accept reality, and move on to greater things. Inform all rites that we are to execution Contingency 9066 immediately, with the amendment to await further instructions as per Protocol D57."
Sounds like the Majestic secret society wants to infiltrate the Empire and restart their social engineering program.

If only there were a solution
 

AspblastUSA

Well-known member
First things first, I see what you did there with that Downfall scene. Not saying I don’t appreciate it, but I see what you did there.

Right, with that out of the way, I wonder who has infiltrated the spooks? My first thought had been the descendants of Khan’s people, but given they were meant to have been eliminated during the eugenics wars I think augments are ruled out.

Most likely a family or ethnicity, given the mention of being bred out, but for a group like S31 is portrayed here that isn’t necessarily true. Especially given their talk of using eugenics to change behavior they may have the idea that ideologies are hereditary.
 

Jaenera Targaryen

Well-known member
First things first, I see what you did there with that Downfall scene. Not saying I don’t appreciate it, but I see what you did there.

:p

Right, with that out of the way, I wonder who has infiltrated the spooks? My first thought had been the descendants of Khan’s people, but given they were meant to have been eliminated during the eugenics wars I think augments are ruled out.

Most likely a family or ethnicity, given the mention of being bred out, but for a group like S31 is portrayed here that isn’t necessarily true. Especially given their talk of using eugenics to change behavior they may have the idea that ideologies are hereditary.

IRL there's a controversial theory called behavioral epigenetics, which postulates that behavior can be genetically-encoded and passed down to future generations. Evidence is circumstantial at present, but research is ongoing, and it does seem to have some basis going for it, unlike Lysenkoism.

So, yes, for all that Star Trek is surprisingly soft when it comes to actual science, they can claim with some sense of realism they were on their way to breeding perceived negative behavioral traits out of Humanity and other species.
 

IrishChaos

Active member
Do you have a wiki link for that? I was trying to find out more about it but didn't find anything on Memory Alpha nor Beta.
It was from a fic I read. There is a fic on Twisting the hellmouth called A light in the Darkness, where Buffy and Khan are awoken by Starfleet while the rest are left in cryogenic stasis. The Augments and the Slayers escaped Earth in Botany Bay. I just lifted it into this story. Sorry if I made you think it was real. Of course it could be something like that in this fic. The Augments were created to fight something normals couldn't after all.
 
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