Battleground Alpha : Oath of Allegiance

Chapter 1

 

[Edinburgh apartment]

 

Baroness von Lowe was weeping. Weeping for her devastated planet. For her wounded brother. For her missing husband. "Oh Alex, why did, did you have to do it, why did you have to be so brave?" she sorrowfully cried. Alex Sutton, the only man she had ever loved was missing and presumed dead after departing Spacedock in a Peregrine. No wreckage had been found so there was still hope, but she had known from the look in the Commander and Chief's eyes that no one really believed he was alive. To make things worse dear Kenneth had been injured fighting the Imperial fleet. His ship, the 'Zhukov', had been broadsided by 2 destroyers, ripping away its nacelles and eating through most of the hull. He was lucky to be alive and was now recuperating at Starfleet medical, along with thousands of other Starfleet officers. More people had died in that battle than the 2 attempted Borg invasions combined. And that was just among the fleet. The casualties on Earth had been beyond belief. Starfleet had only just the process of installing shield generators and only important military installations were protected. As a result, there was nothing to stop the several hundred strong torpedo volley or the tsunamis that it created. The earthquakes had been severe as well, overcoming the earthquake protection systems of many buildings. Fortunately, or at least relatively so, the Baroness was living on the other side of the world to the detonation. That didn't mean she could escape the huge dust clouds thrown up though. She shivered slightly in the cold. The weather modification nets had all been knocked off line and even when they were restored nobody knew how long it would take to restore the atmosphere to its former condition. Getting up, the Baroness put on a coat. Kenneth should be out of surgery now and he would appreciate some company.

 

[Starfleet Medical]

 

"I love you my little English carrot"

 

"Well I love you more, my little Scottish dumpling."

 

"No I love you more, my sweet sugary Sutton."

 

"No, no, no, the surgery has made you delirious darling, _I_ love _you_ more, my lovey dovey thistle head."

 

"No, no, no, I-"

 

"Ahem." Captain Kenneth von Lowe and his soon to wife, Alexandra Sutton were interrupted from their blissful argument by the entrance of Dr. Lindsey. "Your sister is here to see you Captain." As the Baroness entered the room, Dr. Lindsey departed.

 

"Kenneth, are you alright?"

 

"Yes, I'm fine Kennethina. I thought you would have been with Alex?" Captain von Lowe realised the instant he said this that something was wrong. "Is there something I should know? Has something happened to Kevin?" The concern on his face and the anguish the Baroness still felt all welled up and once again she began crying.

 

"Oh, Kenneth, it's so terrible, they can't find him, he's disappeared. They think he's dead! They won't tell me that, but I know it's what they think. I can see it in their eyes! Oh, Kevin, what am I going to do?" With that, she collapsed into a chair, sobbing as Alexandra walked over and tried to console her.

 

"Alex is dead?" whispered Captain von Lowe. He had never liked him ; there was something just not right about him, but he had made his sister happy and the resemblance of his name to that of Kenneth's girl friend was mildly amusing. He might have taken a perverse pleasure in him getting injured, perhaps crippled by the loss of a limb, but dead? That just wasn't right, Kennethina shouldn't have to suffer like that.

 

[Maquis Base]

 

"Alex, it's good to see you again," beamed the commander of the Maquis base. "How long has it been? Two, three months? Finally decided to join us?"

 

Sutton responded with a weak smile. For the last couple of years he had been in contact with the Maquis. He had recognised their potential to help the Empire in an invasion of the Milky Way and had formed a strong friendship with one of their leaders. It had been a genuine blow to him when the Dominion had hunted down and killed virtually everyone. He and actually made some friends among them. Kindred spirits who recognised the necessity of war and the weakness of the Federation. This was the only remaining Maquis base and only because it was deep inside Federation territory. Few people knew about it, mainly because of its size. Unless you knew where it was, you would never find it. Smaller tan an Oberth class starship, it had room for a couple of Maquis Raiders, some sensors and a crew of just under one hundred. There was no room for comforts, just necessities. It felt like home.

 

"Too long, Gavin, too long. I'm afraid I haven't left Starfleet left. I do however have important news from Earth. I presume you haven't been monitoring it in the last few hours?"

 

Taylor shook his head. "No, we're trying to keep power consumption down at the moment. We're still waiting for supplies from our few remaining sympathisers among the Bajorans."

 

"A few hours ago, Earth was attacked by a powerful alien fleet from a new wormhole." Sutton watched as surprise and barely noticeable fear crept into Taylor's face. "Most of the defence fleet was destroyed or crippled. Space Dock is gone. I'm on a mission to contact these aliens and find out why they attacked." That was close enough to the truth to deceive any telepaths Taylor might have on board. While Sutton was fairly sure he was trusted, he had learnt early in his career not to take chances.

 

"What about the alien fleet?"

 

"They took heavy losses, but I left before the battle was decided."

 

"How is Earth?"

 

"It was hit by several thousand torpedoes. The destruction was.. worse than anything I've ever seen. Nothing anyone has done compared to it. Not the Borg, not the Dominion. Not even the Cardassians."

 

Sutton watched as Taylor nearly collapsed. He was Maquis, but had family on Earth and Sutton and carefully worded his statement to distract him. It would be much easier to manipulate him now.

 

"My family?"

 

"The torpedoes all impacted in the Indian Ocean. They should be relatively safe." This much was true. Living in the Scottish colony of England, they would have been as safe as anyone could be.

 

"Why did you come here?" Taylor was starting to recover some of his colour now and looked much less likely to collapse.

 

"The Peregrine doesn't have enough range to get me to the wormhole. I need one of your transports." Sutton knew that there was always one high warp transport with enough range to take the crew of the station to the Badlands. It would be enough to get him to the wormhole.

 

"Okay. But We're coming with you."

 

"Gavin, you can't. I'm on a mission for a Starfleet."

 

"Don't give me that. If you were, then you wouldn't need one of our transports."

 

Damn. Now he was going to have to lie. He hadn't heard of any Betazoids joining the Maquis, but being part of Starfleet, he hadn't been told everything. "You're right. I want revenge. There's no way Starfleet will give me a ship ; they'll want to resolve this with diplomacy. They've learnt nothing from the Dominion War."

 

Taylor nodded. This he could believe. If there has been an invasion, this base probably won't be safe for much longer. We'll all come. We'll have to dock the Raiders with the transport, so you'll have to abandon your Peregrine. We can use it to destroy the base I suppose. Do you think we stand a chance against these aliens?"

 

"Since when have the odds mattered to you?"

 

"I just want to know how many of them we'll be able to kill."

 

"We'll be fine if the cloaks you bought form the Klingons still work."

 

"They will."

 

"Good." They should keep you alive long enough to get me home. Then.. then you'll see blood. Yours and your friends'.

 

[Vengeance]

 

Through the bridge portholes, the immense ship was visible, her black shadowy figure a stark contrast to the swirling blue maelstrom behind her. Seconds later, she all but vanished as the wormhole closed. Not even her running lights glowed.

 

"She's moving in close, sir," reported the worried sensor officer.

 

"Any response to our hails?" asked January.

 

"No sir."

 

"Arm all weapons, activate ray shields and edge us towards the wormhole, thrusters only."

 

"Weapons sir?"

 

January turned to face the hapless gunnery lieutenant. "You heard the order." The officer felt the crimson cybernetic eye burning through his skull and looked away, powering up the weapons.

 

"She's still closing sir. Thrusters only as well. Her transponder's still off."

 

"Does the profile match 'Palpatinian'?"

 

"Yes, sir, but-"

 

"What's Yarr playing at? I don't have time for this. Time to wormhole?"

 

"46 seconds."

 

"If she continues on her current course, will she hit us before then?"

 

"yes, sir."

 

"Lock turbolasers on her engines."

 

The gunnery lieutenant gulped nervously. "Weapons locked."

 

"Fire on my command. Fi-"

 

"Incoming transmission!" blurted out the communications officer.

 

January grinned into himself. He thought that would get a response. Turning to the holoprojector he ordered that the transmission be put through.

 

"It's audio only, sir."

 

January glared at the communications officer. "Put it through the speakers then."

 

"Aye, sir."

 

"Power down your weapons and cut your engines immediately. You will receive no more warnings," commanded the speakers.

 

"This is Captain-"

 

"Sir, they've cut the link."

 

January thought for a moment. However it was meant business and he wouldn't stand a chance against an Executor class Star Destroyer. "All stop, power down weapons. Get a voiceprint match on that transmission."

 

"Aye, sir," responded the various officers around the bridge. Through the front portholes January could see the ESD grow in size as it continued its approach. He could see light form a few of the portholes now. Most of the stars were now obscured by her bulk. She was big.

 

"Sir, ESD has approached to within 50m."

 

That wasn't something he needed told by a sensor officer. The fact that nothing but hull could be seen through the port holes now made it pretty clear. "Do you have a voice match?"

 

"83% probability, sir. I haven't checked the entire database yet, but-"

 

"Who is it."

 

"Admiral Mark Sheppard, formerly of the Imperial Navy, now turned renegade."

 

Sheppard. Not too surprising if reports about his activities sine leaving the Empire were true. "Open a channel to the ESD."

 

"They're not responding, sir."

 

"Do it," ordered January.

 

[Dark Phoenix]

 

"Incoming transmission, sir."

 

Sheppard sighed. January was persistent to say the least. "Put it through. Audio only."

 

"You're a long way from your usual hunting grounds, Sheppard."

 

Sheppard almost smiled. January had passed his first test. He swivelled to face the holoprojector. "Got to holo transmissions." The harsh cybernetic form of January appeared on screen. Turning to the side, Sheppard whispered, "He could be your brother, Hit-Man." Hit-Man stared impassively at the wall, rigidly at attention. Some people just didn't appreciate humour. "So are you, Captain. A galaxy or so, I believe."

 

"Is that 'Palpatinian'?"

 

"Haven't changed much have you?" January had a reputation of single-mindedly pursuing objectives and getting straight to the point. "It was. She's my 'Dark Phoenix' now though.

 

"Is Yarr dead?"

 

"Yes."

 

January paused. Yarr hadn't been the brightest military leader, but he had kept 'Vengeance' operational and had sworn that he would kill the Rebels. If he was stupid enough to lose an ESD, apparently without a scratch though, he was probably no great loss. "What do you intend to do, sir?"

 

Sheppard smiled inwardly. January was sensible enough to realise the power Sheppard had at his disposable and his abilities of he had been able to seize 'Palpatinian'. "The Empire is full of pacifists and cowards. It no longer desires to fight the rebellion. We can change that."

 

"How?"

 

"We'll jump to a nearby system then you will meet me on board 'Dark Phoenix'. Bring everything you know about this galaxy."

 

"I have 2 prisoners."

 

"Excellent. Bring them also. Sheppard out."

 

"Is this wise? January is.. volatile at best," cautioned Glasgow once the link was broken.

 

"When he sees Mister Death and Darkness over there," Sheppard indicated towards Hit-Man, "I'm sure he'll be reasonable. Helm, plot a course to the nearest system. Feed jump co-ordinates to the fleet and jump as soon as you're ready.

 

[Vengeance]

 

January watched as 'Dark Phoenix' turned and moved off.

 

"We're receiving jump co-ordinates."

 

"Acknowledge 'Dark Phoenix' and prepare to jump."

 

With the ESD out of the way, sensors were now able to pick up the rest of Sheppard's fleet. January was impressed. It looked like he had made the right decision.

 

"We're ready to jump."

 

"Engage.

 
Chapter 2

[Rotaran]

Kynes gulped down another mug of blood wine. It had tasted odd at first,
but the fiery feeling in his belly was something he hadn't experienced
since the alst time he was in the Correlian system. He was beginning to
think that being captured by the Klingons was one of the best things
that could have happened to him. Yes, they had got off to a bad start,
torturing him day and night, but he and the General had earned a great
deal of respect from each other. He was no longer a prisoner, but a
guest on the bird of prey. The Galactic Empire's ambassador to the
Klingon Empire. He wondered if this would entitle him to a raise when he
returned home. He had impressed General Martok with stories of the war
against the Rebellion and New Republic. He had seemed particularly eager
to learn about ship designs and weapons. That came as no surprise to
Kynes. In return for these stories, he had been given his freedom and an
offer to speak to the Klingon High Council. Obviously the Klingons
wanted Imperial technology and Kynes was sure that the Empire wouldn't
mind giving it to them. After all, they would embark on their conquest
of this galaxy soon enough and it wouldn't hurt to have some allies in
place.

[Dark Phoenix]

January paused at the door to Sheppard's briefing room. Using his
cybernetic eye, he made a quick scan of the door and adjoining wall
before pressing the control panel. Sheppard had seemed congenial enough
so far, but the easiest way to gain control of 'Vengeance' would be for
her captain to have an accident. If he was going to do it, he probably
would have had him killed much earlier, but there was no point in taking
risks. The doors swished open and January strode in and stopped cold.
Staring at him was a stormtrooper. There was something odd about him
however. Several of his limbs appeared to be prosthetic, there was a
metallic cylinder hanging from his side and there was a certain,
unidentifiable malevolence emanating from him. Like all stormtrooper
helmets, the visor was opaque to anyone looking in, but nevertheless,
January could feel his eyes burning into his head, searching his mind
for a hint of-

"Captain, won't you take a seat?"

Aware that he probably wasn't making the best impression, January took
the seat he was offered. The stormtrooper moved to the far end of the
table and stood there, appearing to stare over January's head.

"Captain, let me get straight to the point. Your employer is dead, his
fleet is scattered and the New Republic is undoubtedly racing for the
wormhole at the moment. You can leave now and do your best to survive in
an unknown galaxy, ro you can join my fleet. Which is it to be?"

January studied Sheppard's face. It was a perfect poker expression,
giving nothing away. He wasn't desperate for 'Vengeance', otherwise he
would have taken her by force, but it was obvious he intended to start
an empire here and for that, he would need every ship, every man that he
could get.

"I'll join your empire, but 'Vengeance' remains under _my_ control," he
replied, boosting the intensity of the red glow form his eye to
emphasise his point.

Sheppard nodded. January seemed to be much more stable when there
weren't any Rebels about. Hit-man glaring at him probably helped too.
Glancing over at Glasgow he saw a barely perceptible but reassuring nod.
They were both in agreement. "Very well, Captain, you may join the
fleet. However, this isn't my empire. It is _the_ Empire. I may have
turned renegade, but my loyalties will always lie with the Empire. Never
forget that. Now, you said you had prisoners?"

"They're still in my personal shuttle." January no longer felt the gaze
of the stormtrooper on his head and as a result was feeling much more at
ease. "We 'rescued' them from an escape pod after their ship self
destructed. It played a crucial part in the battle at their centre of
government, Earth. We believe that it was the first ship to make contact
with the Rebels. There wasn't time for interrogation so they're in good
condition."

"Good. We encountered a ship on the home side of the wormhole and
'rescued' its crew as well. They can be interrogated together. Turning
to Hit-man, Sheppard continued, "Lieutenant, bring the prisoners to the
brig. Put them in with the others." Without a word of acknowledgement,
Hit-man left the room.

January frowned. "You shouldn't tolerate that kind of behaviour."

Sheppard and Glasgow exchanged knowing smirks before replying. "You
don't know that stormtrooper, do you?"

"Should I?"

"If you did, you would probably be dead. He was Vader's right hand man
for several years. A top-secret assassin, sent in to do the Emperor's
dirty work. He's killed more people with his own hands than there are
crew on your ship probably. Certain exceptions are made for him."

January nodded, too surprised to speak. He had heard rumours years ago
about an assassin capable of killing anyone, taking on the best
defences; Woookies, Mistral Guard, Noghri. He had never paid much
attention to rumours though. He was more concerned with killing Rebels.
"Why is he working for you?"

"A long story. I'll tell some other time. Right now, we have an Empire
to re-establish. Do you have all your data on this galaxy with you?"

January pulled a datapad out of his pocket and passed it over to
Sheppard, who nodded.

"Good, then we can begin. Return to your ship and await further orders."

"What are we going to do?"

"We're going to look for a friend. One who's been here a long time."

Giving Sheppard a curious glance, January departed.

"You think we're going to be able to trust him?" Sheppard asked Glasgow,
his voice of reason.

"He seems a lot calmer than his reputation suggests. Maybe it was
Hit-man, or maybe it was being away from Rebels. Either way, I think we
can control him."

"Any thoughts?" enquired Sheppard, turning to the other 2 senior
officers present, Yates and Phong.

"I think we should put a few of the Cleaners on 'Venegance'. Just to
keep an eye on things," suggested Yates.

Sheppard nodded. The Cleaners were among the most respected people in
Shepaprd's fleet. Not only were they pilots, but they were also
warriors. They were some of the meanest fighters Sheppard had ever known
and were utterly loyal to him and Yates. Often chosen to fulfil the
trickiest or most hazardous missions, they had never disappointed him.
"Very well. Make the arrangements yourself. If there's nothing else, I
think we can get back to work."

"When are you going to tell him about the-"

Sheppard cut Glasgow off in mid-sentence. It's badly damaged, so I'm not
going to get anyone's hopes up before I'm certain we can fix it. Mention
it to nobody." Everyone nodded. "Okay then, dismissed."

[Home One]

The New Republic fleet dropped out of hyperspace about a light year away
from the wormhole. Almost 20 Mon Cal cruiser and Star destroyers had
been assembled, along with a variety of smaller craft. A dozen or so
frigates of various classes and several score of corvettes. Leading the
way were 'Home One' and Mon Remonda' and on board them were 3 of the
most important people in the New Republic, Admiral Ackar, Han Solo and
Leia Organa Solo.

"Anything on scanners?" came the Calamari's gravely voice.

"No ships, sir."

"Signal the fleet. We'll run one more scan then jump directly to the
wormhole."

[Mon Remonda]

"Can you sense him yet?" asked Han, delicately. When Luke's presence in
the Force had suddenly winked out, Leia had come running to him, crying.
She had demanded to be allowed to go with the fleet and he couldn't
exactly refuse.

"No," she whispered. "There's nothing. Just a faint darkness over the
whole area. There's a presence, but it's not Lukes."

"Well you know Luke. He's probably got delusions of grandeur and gone
charging off through the wormhole himself." Han tried to grin
reassuringly, but Leia didn't seem to notice. Just then the intercom
beeped.

"General Solo, we've arrived at the rendezvous point."

"Acknowledged. I'll be right up."

Much as he wanted to comfort Leia, Han had his duties as one of the most
senior officers in the fleet. "Don't worry Princess, he'll be just
fine." With that, he left their quarters for the bridge.

[Home One]

Second sweep is still negative," reported the sensor officer.

"When are the reinforcements due?"

"6 hours, sir. General Iblis is gathering the rest of the 8th
battlegroup."

"We can't afford to wait. Instruct the feet to jump on my command. The
General can hold the wormhole when he arrives. We've got to find that
Super Star destroyer."

"Orders related, sir."

"Engage."

Close to 100 warships departed into hyperspace for the minute or so it
would take them to reach the wormhole. With the fluctuations the
wormhole was creating in space and beyond, hyperdrive wasn't as fast as
usual, but 30 seconds wouldn't make a difference. As soon as the fleet
reverted to realspace, Ackbar began issuing orders.

"Taskforce Krakana hold position at the wormhole. All others, follow
us."

The 5 cruisers comprising Taskforce Krakana, including one of the larger
Mon Clas, 'Galactic Voyager' would hold position at the wormohle until
Bel Iblis arrived. They wouldn't be able to stop a Super Star Destroyer,
but they would be able to stop just about anything else. It was a pity
the General was bringing all the interdictors, but that couldn't be
helped. The hunt would have to begin without them. Within a minute , the
5 cruisers were arrayed in a star pattern around the wormhole and the
rest of the fleets was moving into formation.

"May the Force be with us," echoed Ackbar's voice over the comm channels
as the wormhole surged into life and belched forth the remainder of
Yarr's fleet, right into the path of Home One.

Chapter 3

[Home One]

"All craft, take evasiv-" Ackbar's voice was cut off as the remaining
corvettes from Gauntlet group smashed into the Mon Calamari Cruiser. The
first surged into her starboard bow, overloading the shields, destroying
weapon emplacements and knocking the mighty craft adrift. The second,
attempting to climb out of the way, managed to lift its bridge clear but
the relatively large engine section slammed into the top of the cruiser.
The sock of the impact shorted out every system on the corvette and
killed th engineering crew. Within seconds , the main fuel tanks and
engines were ablaze and a huge explosion followed moments later. The
fire wall was big enough to hide an ISD in and blew a hole the size of a
Carrick class cruiser in the top of the Mon Cal. The bridge was
vaporised and with it Admiral Ackbar.

[Mon Remonda]

Han and the rest of the bridge crew looked on in horror as Home One
started to list, most of its outer hull now ablaze. A few escape pods
tried to eject, but most were consumed by the fire raging round the
ship. For the few seconds it took for this to sink in, both fleets
stared at each other, drifting past on their own momentum before a loan
gunner, a nameless crew man in the lower decks of one of the smaller Mon
Cals, opened fire. Almost instantly, every ship in the 2 fleets
responded and space for several kilometres around lit up with plasma
fire.

[Black Flame hanger]

Commander Dalton had been stripping down his TIE's laser cannons to
repair damaged sustained during the battle at Earth when the klaxons
sounded. Yelling "Sith!" he dashed for the nearest fighter. The only one
currently without a pilot was a gunboat - not as fast or maneuverable as
his Interceptor, but it had shields, hyperdrive and a lot more punch in
the form of concussion missiles. Within 30 seconds every fighter in the
hanger had a pilot and was lining up for launch. Already, the interior
was being illuminated by bright flashes as turbolasers impacted on
'Black Flame's shields. Warming up the engines, Dalton waited for
clearance and launched. He was joined moments later by the rest of Zeta
Squadron and a handful on gunboats. "All gunboats, form up on me. Zeta
squadron, you're flying cover. Gunboats, slave your missile guidance to
my fighter." A handful of lights flicked on as Dalton's gunboat began
relaying targeting telemetry to the other gunboats. Glancing at the
sensor display he saw a squadron of X-Wings inbound. Although about 2
decades old, the fighters were still the backbone of the New Republic
fleet and had similar performance to his gunboat.

"Zeta 2 to Zeta Squadron, break by pairs and engage target 31-Delta,"
crackled his speakers.

Dalton smiled as he saw his squadron break off and engage the X-Wings.
They may have the advantage of shields but that wasn't much use if your
opponent could keep behind you and just pour fire in. Within seconds his
sensor display was a mass of swirling green and red dots. One by one the
green dots of the Republic fighters winked out, accompanied by the
occasional red one. Blocking out the death screams of his comrades,
Dalton pointed his gunboat at a nearby cruiser and began acquiring a
target lock. He grinned as sensors identified it as 'Mon Remonda' and
the intermittent beeping of the targeting sensors became a solid tone.
He stabbed down on the fire controls and was rewarded by 14 concussion
missiles speeding out towards the organic looking ship. By the time his
launchers had cycled, 'Mon Remonda's shields were engulfed with a
roiling plasma fire. Only now did red turbolaser fire begin centring on
his position. Juking in every direction, Dalton closed on the cruiser.
Flitting along the hull too fast for turrets to track he was pleasantly
surprised to see the rest of the gunboats had been able to follow. There
was a small flash as one flew too low and impacted on the cruiser's
shields. Slowed momentarily by the impact, it was instantly targeted and
obliterated by point defence batteries. Dalton dismissed it. There would
be time for grieving later. Right now he had to save his fleet.

"1 flight, take the engines, 2 flight, you're with me," signalled
Dalton, turning for the bridge. The outnumbered imperial fleet was
targeting the engines of the New Republic warships in an attempt to
escape. It as too late for 'Crippler' and 'Inferno' though. Already, the
2 VSDs had been surrounded by several cruisers and disabled by massive
ion cannon bombardment. Several New Republic corvettes and Home One were
either disabled or ablaze, but that was about it. The loss of their 2nd
command ship would probably demoralise them into retreating however,
thought Dalton as the bridge came into view. The shields were still up
and jamming was too strong to tell if his missiles would get through,
but it was worth a shot. Lining up the targeting reticle with the
midline of the bridge, Dalton stabbed down o the trigger again and
pulled up, rolling as he did so to bring the bridge back into view.
Seeing the missiles shields hold under the impact of the six missiles he
bit back a curse and prepared for another run.

"Tau 2 to Tau leader, under attack by A-Wings, we can't shake them.
They've already go-" The message ended with a scream. Glancing at the
sensors, Dalton saw that the gunboats he'd dispatched to deal with 'Mon
Remonda's engines were dead and a swarm of green dots were speeding
towards him from their position. Throwing his gunboat over, Dalton
turned for 'Black Flame' and fed all power into his engines. He saw that
his wingmen had done the same, but the A-Wings were still closing. There
were several flashes behind him as turbolaser flak bursts detonated.
None of the green dots disappeared, but they all broke off, heading for
a group of TIEs harassing a corvette. Dalton was about to breath a sigh
of a relief when he saw 'Black Flame's shields flare and fade. A New
Republic ISD, flanked by a couple of corvettes had closed to less than
100 metres of 'Black Flame' and were hiding it with tremendous
broadsides. Synchronising their fire, the 3 warships managed to hit it
with enough force to physically push it aside slightly. Running lights
died and weapons fell silent, indicating that power was off line. Dalton
watched on helplessly as a group of Lambda and Gamma shuttles swept
towards 'Black Flame's hanger escorted by E-Wings. Obviously they
intended to board the ISD. Suddenly, everything in front of Dalton
flared white and for several seconds he couldn't see. Afraid to make
evasive maneuvers, for fear of hitting his wingmen, Dalton fly straight
on, hoping that no enemy pilot would spot his vulnerable position and
take advantage of it. As his vision returned, Dalton looked about in
disbelief. 'Black Flame' was gone, as were the corvettes and half of the
New Republic ISD. Instead, black specks, probably fighters taking
advantage of the new source of cover, flitted among a debris cloud.
Trying to turn, Dalton found the controls sluggish and saw that his port
wing had been blown right off. The entire port hull was blackened as far
as he could see. Behind, he could see his wingmen were disabled,
crippled by the blast. All around he could see the Imperials losing the
battle. In a last gesture of defiance, a burning ISD, the 'Vindicator'
rammed its aggressor, a Mon Cal cruiser. The 2 disappeared in a
tremendous explosion that starkly illuminated the debris of the battle.
A flicker of motion caught his eye as a solitary ISD, the 'Thrawn',
commanded by Captain Kerkhof escaped into hyperspace. Corraled by
corvettes and frigates, the guns of 'Immortal' fell silent. Dalton
noticed something odd. The destruction of 'Black Flame' and its opponets
had opened a gap for one ship, 'Devastator' to escpae, but she appeared
to just be sitting there flanked by the 2 remaining VSDs, exchanging
fire with 'Mon Remonda' and several smaller cruisers.

[Devastator]

Lieutenant Louis Cypher could see something was wrong with his
commanding officer. Captain Paulsen had been turning steadily paler with
the destruction of each ship and despite the opening of a gap, had not
given orders to retreat just as 'Thrawn' had. If he didn't act soon,
'Devastator' would become another casualty.

Paulsen wasn't feeling his best. The past few days had been a strain on
him, culminating in the battle at the Federation homeworld and now this.
On top of the screams echoing in his mind, he was now reading suspicion
form virtually every one of the bridge crew. He had have to do something
before- It was too late. He could see Lieutenant Cypher, one of the
least pleasant members of the crew turn to face him.

"Captain, with all due respect, I suggest you allow us to retreat."

"We cannot abandon our comrades," replied Paulsen, emphasising his words
with the Force. The suspicions of some faded, but Cypher continued to
stare.

"Sir, if we don't leave now, we'll die. It is our only chance."

"Perhaps you didn't hear me, _lieutenant_. We're saying."

"In that case, sir, I'm placing you under arrest as per section 41
subsection 5 of the Imperial Navy-" Cypher was interrupted by a violent
shudder as the port shields momentarily failed and a volley of
turbolasers bit into the hull just 2 decks below. "Helm, get us out of
here!"

Paulsen stood up and saw that he had lost control of the situation.
Hearing footsteps, he twirled round to see 2 stormtroopers advance
towards him. "Come with us sir," they ordered. Realising there was no
point in concealing his identity now, he turned to his aide, a protocol
droid who had been knocked to the floor and was rocking backwards and
forwards muttering "I odn't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't
want to die," Paulsen yanked off its arm, revealing a lightsabre which
he ignited immediately, cutting through the droid and sweeping it up
towards the stormtroopers. Before they could bring their blasters to
bear, Paulsen had sliced through the barrels and, leaping into the air,
kicked them backwards, unconscious. Crewmen around the bridge leapt to
their feet, brandishing blasters as the communications officer called
for reinforcements. Shortcircuiting the comm board with the Force,
Paulsen spun to deflect several blaster shots with his lightsabre. The
azure blade bit through the air, deflecting the bolts back at the
shooters. Ina blur of motion, Paulsen was on the other side of the
bridge and had yanked all the blasters towards him. Catching one, he set
it to stun and fired on the whole brisge. Crewmen flopped to the floor
and the bridge fells silent, save for the twitter and beep of the
consoles. Reaching out with the Force, Paulsen satisfied himself that no
more troops were on the way, but discovered that one crewman, Lieutenant
Cypher, was still conscious. Almost fainting when Paulsen had ignited
his sabre, he was lying prostrate on the floor, hidden behind his
console when the blaster had stunned everyone else. Ignoring him for the
moment, Paulsen restored the comm board to working order with the Force
and signalled the surrender of the ship to the New Republic Fleet.
Crossing tot he Engineering console, he shut down all power to weapons
and shields and waited. Suddenly, his danger sense flashed and he spun,
igniting the second end of his lightsabre to deflect a blaster bolt.
Cypher had regained control of his body and drawn his blaster, the only
one Paulsen hadn't taken and had fired a poorly aimed shot at the Jedi.
Cypher had always been difficult to control with the Force so Paulsen
decided it would be simpler to kill him. Besides, there was a strong
feeling of the Dark side around him that should be extinguished from the
universe. Charging at the unfortunate lieutenant, Paulsen was thrown
aside by an explosion as the last VSD, trying to prevent 'Devastator'
falling into Republic hands began firing on her. Missing Cypher's head,
Paulsen instead lopped off a hand. The screams were enough to frighten a
rancor and Paulsen almost dropped his sabre trying to cover his ears.
Swinging the sabre at him again, Cypher stumbled and lost an arm, in
place of his head, causing yet more screams. Paulsen was thankful that
sabre wounds were cauterised instantly. Deciding that it would be much
easier to dispatch him if he was unable to move, Paulsen slashed through
his legs, taking them off at the knee. Cypher's body fell to the floor,
still alive and screaming like a Mynoc. Thankful that it would all soon
be over, Paulsen cut down, severing Cypher's dead. It was several
seconds before the body stopped thrashing and the screaming, but at last
there was peace and Paulsen headed for an escape pod, just in case some
patriotic engineer decided to blow the ISD.

[Gunboat Tau 1]

Dalton had cleared the battle and was thanking the Force, the engineers
at Cygnus systems, the mechanics who had maintained the gunboat and the
Force for keeping him alive. With nothing in his way, he prepared to
jump. The hyperdrive was damaged, with his entire navigation computer
off line, but a short jump probably wouldn't kill him. It was better
than being captured by the Republic. He had heard many stories about
their torture methods from Admiral Yarr. Most of it was probably
propaganda, but Dalton didn't want to find out first hand and watched as
the stars elongated, bringing him to freedom.

[????]

He could feel the anger, the fear, the hatred flowing the ships. He keep
feel his strength growing. Soon he would be ready to reveal himself.
Soon the Sith would have their revenge. Across the universe, he felt a
pinprick of pain and agony more acute than any he had felt in recent
years. The Darkside flowed strong through him. Son he would be ready.
His destiny approached.

[Starfleet Medical]

Captain Lowe awoke with a start. It was still dark. He tried to reach
for his chronometre, but couldn't seem to move his arms.

"Ahem."

Lowe turned to look towards the voice. As his eyes adjusted to the
darkness, he could make out a figure beside his bed. Beyond that he
could see nothing. Nothing. That wasn't right. He was in a room with
other patients before. Now he was in an isolation room, from the looks
of things.

"Don't try to move captain."

"Where am I?"

"An isolation room at Starfleet Medical."

"Why?"

"You'll find out soon enough." Lowe could hear the sneering contempt in
the voice."

"Who are you?"

"That's not important, captain. Let's just say, I'm here to defend the
Federation from certain people."

"Who?"

"Can't you use anything other than 1 syllable words? People like you,
captain. Subversives, deviants, traitors."

Lowe restrained a laugh. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh come now, captain, we both know that. We've both read your stories.
You attempts to undermine the Federation. Despite the wounds you have
suffered, somehow you have managed to churn out these fantastic - and I
don't mean that in a good way - stories. This 'Domination' is nothing
more than an attempt to make the federation look weak. To undermine key
officers. To promote this 'Galactic Empire'. You have been judged and
found guilty, captain. And I have carried out your sentence." There was
a brief shimmer and hum, illuminating the room and the mysterious
individual was gone. Lowe didn't know what to think. Perhaps it was a
practical joke. Whatever it was, it could wait until morning.

* * *

Lowe awoke to the sight of a bald doctor staring down at him. "Oh, not
the hologram, please not the hologram," he moaned. He had always hated
the EMHs. They were so good at putting him down. Of course most people
could beat him in a battle of wits, but the EMHs were the worst.
Remarkably, there was no scathing reply. Lowe frowned. "What's wrong
doc?"

"Nothing," came the muted response. "Your operation was a success.
You're still alive, as you can see."

"Operation?"

The EMH sighed. Lowe was being unusually slow-witted today.

"To remove your arms. To make sure the virus couldn't spread, remember?"

Lowe looked down. To his horror, both his arms were missing. Sweating
and turning pale, he began frantically stammering. "Wh-what's going on.
Is this some kind of joke? Turn the holodeck off now, this isn't funny."

"I'm sorry, sir, but this is no holodeck. Your arms were amputated last
night."

Lowe felt like he was a bout to scream, but the EMH sedated him.

* * *

Lowe awoke some time later to see the Doctor standing over him once
more.

"Are my arms still-"

"I'm afraid so."

Lying back, as tears began to fill his eyes, he noticed something was
wrong with his nose. Sitting up, a task made incredibly difficult by the
lack of arms, he looked into the mirror opposite and bit back a scream.
His nose was now almost half a metre long and had a large plunger on the
end.

"It's very fetching isn't it? Your family tartan I believe. Fresh form
the Daystrom Institute. You can use it to push buttons or pick stuff up
instead of hands."

"I'm a freak!"

"Yes, well you are Scottish."

Lowe stared at the hologram.

"If half your grandparents are sheep, surely you should expect some
freakishness?"

It was all too much for Lowe and again he passed out.

[Mon Remonda]

The crew was still in shock. The loss of Home One had deeply affected
them and they had suffered terrible casualties in the battle. Only half
the fleet remained now. Han as barely speaking and Leia was grieving in
her quarters. Chewie was nowhere to be found.

"Sir?"

Han turned to see a young crewman standing beside him with a datapd.
Extending his hand, he took the pad and began reading.

"X-Wing wreckage? We lsot plenty of X-Wings in the battle. What's so
spcial about this one?" He hadn't spoken that many words in the last
couple of hours.

"Read further down sir." The voice was very subdued.

An R2 astromech droid had been found, or at least the wreckage of it.
That wasn't too common. Most of the X-Wings in the fleet were using at
least R5s now. Something had been found among the R2 wreckage. A
cylinder roughly 30cm long had survived the destruction of the X-Wing.
Han began to get a sinking feeling. Analysis had confirmed that it was a
lightsabre. Luke Skywalker's lightsabre. Han almost choked. Someone
would pay. At the bottom of the report he saw that they had checked the
debris for weapon signatures. Some had been found. There was a single
match in the ship's database. Federation weaponry. Han's blood ran cold.
The heartless- "Comms, contact the fleet. Tell them we have a new
mission. We're heading for Earth."

Chapter 4

[Earth Orbit]

The 'Sarek' arrived amid a scene of confusion and devastation. Leading a
taskforce 60 strong from Wolf 359, they had been running at warp 9 for
the last day in response to the distress calls. Captain Cassidy found it
hard to believe that the Sol Defence Fleet had been beaten so badly. And
by only 50 ships. The debris from the hundred or so destroyed Federation
ships was beginning to fall out of orbit. Small pinpricks of light
marked shuttlecraft and runabouts vaporising the wreckage before it
could do any more damage. "What the hell..." muttered Cassidy as he
looked closer at Earth. A dark cloud, thousands of square kilometres in
size obscured an area centred on India. Glancing at the fragmented
status report he had received en-route, he realised it had to be the
dust cloud thrown up by the torpedo barrage. Looking over, he saw the
moon. It looked like it had a new sea. The glow reminded him of Vulcan
viewed on a warm summer night. Dark, and yet smouldering with heat.
Cooling, but still unlike anything on Earth. The change in its orbit
must be playing havoc with tides he thought.

"We're being hailed," came a muted voice from the aft of the bridge. The
whole crew must be awe of the sight. Many of them were fresh from the
academy and had seen little but Earth or their home planets. Certainly
nothing compared with what they were confronted with here.

"On screen."

A rather haggard looking captain in his 30s appeared on screen. His
uniform was torn, but reasonably neat and a one day beard was showing on
the end of a bruised chin. "No time for pleasantries I'm afraid captain.
Dispatch ships to the following co-ordinates. Have rescue and medical
teams on full standby. All medical centres on Earth are overloaded at
the moment so you'll have to use your own facilities. Davidson out."

Cassidy looked down at his monitor. After several seconds, the number of
co-ordinates was still growing and sighing he turned to the tactical
station. "Hail the taskforce and instruct them to split up and assist
rescue operations at these co-ordinates." Turning to the helm, he spoke
again. "Helm, one quarter impulse to these co-ordinates. Have all
shuttle launch on arrival." The throb of the engines propelling the
starship forwards usually invigorated him, but not today.

[U.S.S. Belfast]

For the fifth time that day, Captain Davidson walked into a turbolift
door. Those of the crew who knew Cardassian were shocked at the
captain's language.

"Sorry sir, the doors have gone again. The EPS conduit on deck 2
ruptured and we've been too bust restoring power to transporters to-"
The ensign at the engineering console broke off as he caught the
captain's glare. He didn't particularly care about explanations at the
moment.

"How along until we've got transporters back?"

"About 20 minutes. Lieutenant Graham is warming up the impulse engines
now."

Some of the anger faded from Davidson's eyes. The crew had suffered a
lot, but they were still giving their best. Boyd certainly picked well
when he formed this taskforce, he thought. Most of 'Belfast's systems
had been completely crippled by heavy turbolaser fire from an ISD and
they warp drive was completely fried. A Pakled tug could probably outrun
them on impulse at the moment. For a moment, Davidson wished he was back
at Le Carré base, but that would have meant someone else, someone less
skilled, would have been here. Someone who wouldn't have survived the
attack.

[U.S.S. Omaha]

"Impulse engines on line!" exclaimed an exultant lieutenant. Face
covered in grime and uniform soaked in who knew what, he was barely
visible in the dim lighting of the Galaxy class starship's bridge. All
systems were being kept at minimum power to leave as much as possible
available for the transporter. Using just the emergency batteries and a
couple of portable fusion generators they had managed to rescue the crew
of the 'Artemis' before her warp core breached and now they were out in
shuttles, finding survivors from other wrecks or the devastation that
had resulted from the torpedo barrage from the moon. Around the bridge,
a couple of consoles glowed and lights intensified as the impulse
reactors began powering the ship. "All transporters now functional.
Navigational deflectors powering up. Sensors on line, environmental
systems at 60% and rising-"

"Just send me a report on screen and get back to work unless tractor
beams are operational and we've got warp capacity again," interrupted
Captain Fox-Roberts. It had been a while since he'd had to pull an
all-nighter. The last time was probably on Altair 4, chasing the Romulan
operative. He'd slept for 2 days solid after that. Probably the reason
he'd been reassigned from field duty to captaining a starship. Coffee
hadn't helped either. All it had done was leave him with a nervous
twitch and hands too shaky to be of use repairing anything. On top of
all this, they hadn't heard from the Admiral. They hadn't found any
wreckage of 'Nelson' either, but if her core had breached while phase
cloaked... But these thoughts wouldn't do him any good. Sighing, he
began glancing over the status report just as a klaxon began wailing.
Groaning he began yelling, "If I hear that siren once more, I swear I
will personally-"

"Sir, it's not a malfunction this time," interrupted one of his bridge
officers. "We've got incoming ships. Vector suggests they came form the
wormhole."

"Full power to sensors, I want to know who that is."

Their was a maddening pause as power was re-routed and sensors probed
the darkness. "It's the New Republic, sir," came the relieved voice.

"Hail them," came Fox-Robert's voice, suddenly alert and rigid with
steel.

"Channel open."

"This is Captain Fox-Roberts of the Federation taskforce Black Knight,
I'm afraid you're a little late General. As you can see, we've just
about managed without your assistance. If you hurry, you might catch
Yarr running with his tail between his legs. If, on the other hand you
would like to be of some real assistance, you can start by taking some
of the wounded off our hands."

Some of the crew were surprised at the scorn and anger in his voice. He
hadn't sounded this pissed since the last poker tournament he had played
against Boyd. At times their captain seemed a bit foppish and not the
stuff spies were made of. Now though they could see why Boyd had picked
him to captain 'Omaha'.

The reply however was even more of a shock.

"This is senator Leia Organa Solo. You will shut down all systems and
surrender your vessel immediately."

The words cut through the whole crew's fatigue, striking to the core of
their minds. Several people immediately went to their controls, shutting
down all systems they could while the stronger willed looked on in
horror. Captain Fox-Roberts found himself using his command codes to
lock every system down. The last thing he saw before the viewer switched
off was the New Republic fleet assuming a battle formation. He wondered
how they could have been betrayed again.

[U.S.S. Belfast]

Captain Davidson had been monitoring transmissions when Leia had ordered
'Omaha' to shut down. His eyes had bulged as he had witnessed the ship's
running lights go dim and emissions drop off the scale. "Hail 'Mon
Remonda'," he ordered, fuming.

Again, it was Leia who replied. The venom in her voice cast a shadow
over his heart that he had never felt in all the wars against the
Dominion, the Borg or the Cardassians. "We do not negotiate with
_traitors_." Watching helplessly, his weapons still off line, he saw the
newly arrived 60 starships sweep round Earth to confront the Republic
fleet. Outnumbering the Imperials 4-1, they had still lost. Fighting the
Republic on almost even numbers would be a slaughter. Davidson sat back
and prayed.

[Mon Remonda]

'Captain' Paulsen was concerned about Leia. He had felt the Darkside
touch her many times since they had discovered Luke was dead. He
remembered Master Luke's teaching. Anger would eventually lead to
suffering. Through the viewer, he saw suffering. Through the Force, he
could feel it. This whole system cried out in anguish. A billion voices
assaulted his mind, clawing at it, writhing in agony. A billion more
screamed at him from the future. He saw fleets of ships, some imperial,
some Republic and some of designs he had never before seen, locked in
combat. Leia, her lightsabre drawn, advanced on cornered crewmen,
Imperial officers overran alien outposts, huge cube vessels glimmered in
the dark, calling to him, a disturbance in the force, the Federation
Admiral, Boyd, stood against a wall, beaten and bloodied, Bjîrn himself
stood, shrouded in darkness as- A hand on his shoulder brought him back
to reality. It was Leia, but he could see no concern in her eyes. Just a
darkness that chilled him as not even his training in the forboding
Massassi temples had. He had met her once before visiting Luke with her
children. Then he had seen love, compassion, joy. Now he saw death. He
feared for her. For the Republic.

"Federation ships have taken up a defensive position between us and
Earth," reported the sensor officer.

"Launch all fighters," ordered Han. Paulse felt great sorrow from him.
Sorrow, not just at the loss of his friends, but at the apparent
betrayal of former allies.

"All squadrons have cleared the hangers. We're being hailed by the lead
ship."

"Are they surrendering?"

"No sir, they're-"

"Tell the fighters to engage."

Paulsen could tell it was a decision the general had been agonising over
for some time. He wouldn't take the death of thousands lightly. On the
tactical display, wings of fighters winked out as they entered
hyperspace and reappeared moments later right beside the Federation
ships. The red dots signifying the Federation ships flickered as torpedo
and ion cannon fire slammed into their shields. Within seconds several
had gone grey, overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of fighters. Rather than
sending a couple of squadrons to each ship, they had dispatched by
wings, disabling each ship before it could respond. While each of their
torpedoes had a smaller yield than the Federation's photon torpedoes,
there was no way the shields could handle the payload of over 70
fighters. A few dots winked out as warp cores went critical and
breached, making Paulsen wince, but thankfully none of their own
fighters were lost. A few were knocked out by phaser fire, sent tumbling
away from the battle, but there was no time for Starfleet to respond
properly. Within a minute, it was all over. Looking at the statistics,
Paulsen was surprised at the accuracy of some of the pilots. He
suspected that Leia might have had a hand in that. If so, she must have
hidden it from him, a thought that troubled him greatly.

"Have fighters disable all shuttles. Capital ships move in and disable
their starships. Chewie, you can begin landing the troops." It was a
good thing the Imperials had attacked, thought Han. There would be less
bloodshed required of him today.

[Dark Phoenix]

Boyd almost collapsed this time. He could feel blood running down the
side of his face and his nose, but nothing seemed broken. That was one
of the nice things about being small. The calcium was well concentrated
in his bones, making them nice and strong. The stormtrooper opposite him
began circling again, gloating at the cut across Boyd's forehead. Boyd
stumbled slightly to his left, dragging his left foot. Seeing the
weakness, the trooper circled again, closing on Boyd's left-hand side.
Feinting to the right, he spun, aiming a kick at Boyd's left knee. In
the split-second it took for his foot to reach there, however, it was
gone. Leaping into the hair, Boyd slammed his elbow down onto the
trooper's head. Grunting, he staggered back, hoping to move out of
range. Using his clearly undamaged left leg, Boyd swept his legs out
from under him and kicked his chin back savagely. A satisfying thud
indicated that the trooper's head had connected rather solidly with the
floor. Allowing himself a brief grin, Boyd pulled back and looked round.
He had been uncooperative in interrogation and the stormies had decided
to have some fun. If he had been a pure human, then he would probably be
the one prostrate on the floor, but Boyd had some Vulcan blood in him
and had benefited greatly from Vulcan discipline. There was no way he
could take all 5 of the stormies glaring at him now though. A couple of
them were beginning to close in and had picked up some wicked looking
instruments.

At that moment, Captain Yates made his entrance. Recognising the scene
from earlier interrogations of Rebels, he stared in disgust at the
unconscious trooper and ordering the others to back off, signalled for
Boyd to follow him. It was expected that they would try to beat up the
prisoners, but to get knocked out by them... that was unacceptable. He
would let Hit-man discipline him. "Admiral Sheppard wants to see you,"
he informed Boyd, blaster dug into the small of his back. From the look
of his captor, Boyd guessed he was a proficient fighter and certainly a
match for him in his current condition. Co-operation was the best course
of action for the moment. Hopefully he would get some answers at last.
For the last few hours he had been either locked in a cell by himself or
in an interrogation room. His ears still throbbed from the decompression
treatment and puncture marks over his arms indicated where they had
injected him. They weren't as brutal as the Obsidian Order, but they
were probably just warming up. At least he hadn't given anything away
yet. As he walked along the corridors of the ship, he mentally
catalogued important locations, equipment carried by personal and
patrols. If he ever got free, this would all be useful. After a couple
of minutes walking, they stopped outside a door, which Yates shoved him
through. As the door slammed down behind him, Boyd looked about. Before
him was a conference table with a larger viewer at the far end. The
layout was similar to that of most races, even up to the position of the
highest ranking officer. Sheppard gave him a quick look over and
indicated for him to have a seat. There were only 2 other people in the
room. An officer of what appeared to be similar rank and a man dressed
in white amour. Boyd shivered slightly as the black helmet visor came to
bear on him. Sitting in the seat provided, he saw no weapons pointed at
him. Curious. Perhaps they thought a single guard would be sufficient to
stop him. A guard without a blaster. Boyd was very surprised. Either
these people were too arrogant for their own good or they knew something
he didn't. There was silence as the man opposite Sheppard hit a couple
of controls. Instantly, the viewing screen flared into life. The picture
panned across from a Federation taskforce in position near Earth to a
Republic fleet. To Boyd's surprise, fighters bean launching from the
Republic fleet. Moments later, they vanished. Suddenly, the camera was
obscured by a flare of light. It shook and gradually the picture became
visible again. Republic fighters were firing blue bolts Boyd recognised
as ion canons and a variety of missiles and torpedoes. All aimed at
Federation ships. Their was another flare and the image faded. As the
viewer turned off, Sheppard turned to face Boyd.

"Admiral, I don't believe we've met. I'm Admiral Sheppard, formerly of
the Imperial Navy. This is my chief of staff, Vice-Admiral Glasgow. That
transmission was intercepted from one of your own ships, broadcasting it
over subspace. You may verify this later if you wish. For now though, I
have a proposition. The New Republic is my enemy. It is now yours. They
tried to befriend you, but now they have betrayed you. You may not think
me trustworthy, but I am not Warlord Yarr. I hunted him down and took
this ship from him. No doubt you recognised it. As you can see, we have
2 common enemies. Your Federation has 2 common enemies. This latest is
the most dangerous you have ever faced. They are terrorists and liars.
Traitors and deceivers. They bombed and killed the families of my crew.
The Empire on the other hand has been a force of order in our galaxy. If
not for it, I would be dead. We do not betray our friends. We would like
you to be one of them. We do not know this galaxy, but you do. You can't
stand up to the Republic, but we can. Join us, and you can save your
Federation. Refuse us and the Republic will destroy all you have
achieved. You will be swept from the face of this galaxy and from
history. You saw them fire on your ships. You saw their merciless
attacks. We don't claim to be perfect - no doubt you see our
interrogation as brutal, but they are our ways - but we are honest about
it. We won't betray you. Join us and we'll stop the cowards who turned
on you."

[TO BE CONTINUED]

---

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