Chapter 11
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CHAPTER ELEVEN:      Edam moved his feet from the control panel he had been sitting at and opened his eyes wide at the sight that had appeared before him. The collection of huge Imperial cruisers and the moon-like DEATH STAR was floating in the distance and slowly growing larger in the viewing window. The Bajoran flicked his ears and glanced down at the stanzas of the ancient texts that were still being displayed on the screen. "At the end of the time, the wound shall open again, and the Knight and her brethren shall war against the world and its children." Edam turned his gaze to the Federation task force and a wide grin settled on his face, "Oh, this is gonna be good . . ."

            The rear doors to the command area opened and Aeretha stepped out. She was dressed in a long tapering blue gown that reached down to her ankles. She yawned daintily and nearly blanched white as she caught the sight of the star destroyers. "What's happening?" she asked.

            Edam was still smiling. "The time is over," he said rather cryptically, motioning towards the two massive fleets. "A historic battle prophesied in the ancient texts is about to be fulfilled and we've got front row seats."

            Aeretha stared blankly at him for a second.

            "Come on!" Edam said, motioning for her to take a seat beside him, "This is a once in an eternity opportunity . . ."

            Aeretha closed her eyes a moment as she gathered her thoughts. When she opened them again, the angry look she gave Edam startled him. "Have you lost your mind?" she snapped, "What are you doing? Trying to get us both killed?!"

            Edam was astonished. "Wha—"

            "Look!" Aeretha stepped forward, leaned over the control panel and pointed at the massive frame of the DEATH STAR. "Look at that!" she exclaimed, "That . . . thing . . . could squash us like a bug! And you want to stick around long enough to see if it does?!?"

            "But Aeretha, I—"

            "Get us out of here!" she yelled all the louder.

            "But what about the research?" Edam shot back.

            "What good will research do if we're dead?"

            Edam blinked and turned back around toward the viewing window. He hadn’t seriously considered the dangers of hanging around, or the fact that if they weren’t careful both he and Aeretha could quickly become a piece of history themselves. “Fine,” he said, unsatisfied but unwilling to risk Aeretha’s life as well as his own. If he had been just him he would have stayed.

            Seconds later, the small Bajoran vessel seemed to stretch off into infinity and vanish in a twirling diamond of white light.

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The Imperial war machine lurched forward, advancing toward the unwary Federation task force. The six star destroyers maneuvered themselves into a shield formation, the smaller Imperator cruisers fanning out in front of the twin Super Star Destroyers.

On the bridge of the TYRANT, Fleet Admiral Sher Khal'Saad watched in dark silence as the Imperial task force deployed on the bridge's master holoscreen. He was a tall, muscular tiger dressed in an immaculate and polished black Imperial Navy uniform that complemented his orange and black stripes. His tail flicked back and forth lightly, his black-gloved hands clasped behind him in an attitude of restrained agitation. As his auburn eyes searched the battle map, the bridge crew bent close to their tasks, knowing that their commander was in no mood to suffer mistakes. After a moment, Khal'Saad winced slightly and turned to a tall ferret standing attentively at the console beside him.

"Captain Ferris,” the fleet admiral spoke, his voice cutting through the air with a rumbling growl, “signal the SENTINEL to correct her course by point eight degrees port, immediately." . . . before she blunders right into Admiral Zinc's forward kill zone. The completion of the thought echoed in Ferris' mind, unspoken.

The captain nodded crisply. "At once, sir."

Khal'Saad turned back to the holoscreen, his sharp features twisting involuntarily into a snarl. That idiot Raschuu didn't even bother to lay out a deployment scheme for the fleet . . . amateur.

Admiral Raschuu aboard the DEATH STAR had been given direct tactical command of this impromptu defensive force for reasons having more to do with politics than military acumen, and Khal'Saad was visibly chafed beneath the incompetence of his superior. Now, when the anticipated attack from across the wormhole had finally arrived, he would be damned if he would allow that incompetence to sully his own reputation.

The command channel indicator winked twice, and Khal'Saad angrily inserted his rank cylinder into the verification slot with a mechanical buzz. He read for a moment and then nodded, noting the SENTINEL beginning the course correction that he had ordered. Captain Ferris moved back from the crew pits, his task there complete, and Khal'Saad spoke without looking up as he approached. “Signal all commands, and verify priority signal: Open fire, saturation batteries, and target priority gamma seven. DEATH STAR fighter groups Alpha through Tau are to deploy and attack along fire corridors two, six and nine. Our fighters are to deploy and set for fire support operations."

As he went over the commands, Khal'Saad's voice again dropped into a soft growl. Ferris knew that the fleet admiral was in his element now, that his mind was already racing to chart the next series of movements in this elaborate ballet. He had served with Sher Khal'Saad since the Qual'raadi Sector uprising, and was no stranger to the brutal efficiency with which he could bring even the most powerful and organized enemy to its knees.

The tiger paused for a moment and Ferris started, his mental list of commands interrupted. Sher’s eyes were open but far away, and his whole posture was one of listening.

"Sir?"

Khal'Saad shook his head and spoke calmly. "Nothing, captain; you have your orders. Dismissed." The tiger returned to his command console while his subordinate scurried to obey, leaving him to his thoughts.

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The super-heavy turbolaser guns onboard the hulking frames of the INTIMIDATOR, TYRANT, and smaller BATTLESTAR opened up with a hail of green energy bolts. For a few seconds there was silence in space as the first wave of emerald fire raced toward the Federation starships, shattered by sporadic explosions as they detonated in chaff bursts around FELIX and the other five vessels at the head of the fleet.

Commander Weiss regarded the opposing fleet coolly from the command chair as the deck below him rocked from the assault. The red alert klaxon had already sounded and the command center was bathed in an ocean of crimson light.

"Outer shields are at ninety-six percent." Selune looked up momentarily from her console, her ears twitching with a hint of her veiled concern. "They're closing on an intercept course."

"Arm photon torpedoes and have phasers on standby. Signal our flank for a continuous evasive pattern; try to keep us from taking the brunt of those bolts."

With a momentary flash from their impulse engines, the FELIX and her flanking group began a synchronized bank to starboard, keeling slightly as they moved to dodge past the subsequent volley of turbolaser bolts, doing what they could to avoid any more chaff explosions.

From the FELIX’s main shuttle bay, Lieutenant Khajja VonKlatt tapped his communicator from outside one of the Type 9 shuttlecraft. "Alpha team to bridge," he called, "we're ready to embark."

            "Bridge here," Cyber responded, her voice ringing out through the rumble of the deck, "You are clear to depart . . . and good luck." There was a hint of regret in her voice at that last comment; as she had been a member of the first away team, she felt partially responsible for the captain’s capture. She had wanted to join the rescue effort, but Weiss had insisted that she would be far more useful on the bridge.

            "Thank you, sir." The deck rocked and Khajja tapped his communicator to end the transmission. He took a moment to look around at the rest of the rescue team and nodded to each of them, showing them for the first time since their arrival a slight hint of approval.

            The entire team, save Steve Raymond and Brett Walick, were dressed in replications of Imperial uniforms, complete with hats and polished black boots, as the team before them had been. The lion punched a button at the rear of the shuttle they and the rescue team crammed into the small craft.

            Moments later, the shuttle zipped through the landing bay forcefield and emerged onto space, Steve Raymond at the helm, Lanna Tigris beside him at sensors. Immediately, several bright explosions lit up the cockpit as a squadron of TIE Bombers zipped by, dropping out their payloads.

There was blaster fire everywhere, and near misses and close explosions rocked the small ship like a raft in a stormy ocean. The TIE Fighters at first seemed too busy concentrating on the larger starships to notice the emergence of the shuttle, but one group caught sight of it and went straight for them.

The proximity sensor on the piloting control beeped, signaling that a group of enemy craft was closing in as Steve piloted the ship a nimbly as he could through the chaos outside, narrowly missing blaster shots as the away team pulled away from the FELIX.

Brett Walick started at the sound of the alarm and scampered into the forward cockpit. “That’s a proximity alert.”

“I know,” Steve said offhandedly, concentrating on the situation outside. The shuttle came precariously close to a bolt of energy that again lit up the cockpit and caused the tiny shuttle to shudder at the ensuing chaff explosion.

“Those fighters are closing!” Brett continued to chatter.

Steve did his best to ignore her, “Bogies incoming.” His eyes scanned the data readouts for a moment; although the fighters were nimble and numerous, he mused, they seemed rather slow. “Hmm . . . well, let’s see how they deal with zero to .25c in two seconds . . .” Raymond punched in the commands and the tiny shuttle rocketed off to impulse, leaving the incoming TIE squadron baffled at the tiny ship’s sudden inexplicable acceleration.

            Brett Walick settled back into the rear compartment, sitting farthest back in the group with Khajja, trying to keep her teeth from chattering too loudly. Every time the shuttle narrowly dodged a mass of weapons fire, she would cringe and whine. Half of the EPIMETHEUS officers were staring in humorous awe and the other half doing their best to ignore her. It wasn't until a glancing hit from one of the star destroyer’s heavy blasters scored a chance glancing blow across the shuttle’s shields, forcing Steve to send the ship spiraling to avoid floating into another firing corridor, did she start to go into hysterics.

            "We're gonna die! We're gonna die! We're gonna die!" she chanted, breathing hard and clenching her heart.

            Lanna gave her a warning look.

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Fleet Admiral Khal'Saad raised an eyebrow, the fur on his forehead rippling at the gunnery report his executive officer had just handed him. "Indeed . . . sixteen-percent of lightspeed, you say . . ."

Captain Ferris paused a moment and then nodded, unable to quite believe it himself. "Yes, sir . . . the accelerative abilities of their cruisers appear to be quite enormous; they're evading our long-range batteries. Our tracking systems are having trouble adjusting, milord. No object could accelerate at that rate without violating the fundamental laws of physics, and the diagnostic droids keep insisting that a system malfunction is responsible for the apparent increase in velocity. We picked up a smaller signal moving at comparable speeds, but it vanished moments after we detected it. Again, the diagnostic droids insist it must be some sort of error."

Khal'Saad looked disgusted. "Droid behavior does not concern me, captain . . ." He turned away and keyed the command channel on his communications board, setting the gunnery report aside. "All commands, Khal'Saad. Maintain intercept heading and increase speed to full. Open fire; all batteries within range, dispersal grid pattern, adjust intensity for distance. Synchronize com-scan and begin blackout procedures immediately. Khal'Saad out." He then turned to Captain Ferris, intolerance and dissatisfaction written across his striped face. "Captain, shift fighter wings Sigma, Kappa and Null to cover our flanks; place tractor beams on standby and lock when in range. And this time, do not miss . . ."

The Imperial fleet began to move faster, struggling to keep their heading in line with that of the racing StarFleet cruisers. The volume of fire pouring from them intensified dramatically as the heavy batteries came into range and opened up, filling the spacious void with a storm of energy. Hundreds of TIE Fighters howled past the wheeling formation, locking their individual targets into their systems as they hastened to attack speed.

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"Sir, enemy vessels have increased acceleration, trying to lock course with our maneuvers."

Weiss turned to address his tactical officer, but was nearly thrown clear of his chair as the ship jarred suddenly as he moved. Romeo grabbed the armrest to right himself as the deck continued to tremble.

"Ships have increased volume of fire.” Selune snapped, “Outer shields down to eighty-seven percent . . . eighty-four . . . permission to return fire, sir? At least on the fighters?”

Even with his birdlike beak which usually made his expressions hard to read, Weiss looked clearly angry, "No. Keep weapons hot, but do not fire until the admiral gives the order. Increase maneuvers to full impulse and open a channel to—"

The signature whistle of an incoming transmission interrupted Romeo’s sentence and Admiral Rumsfield's voice boomed over the speakers, garbled by interference. "This is A-aaadmiral R—sfield."

"What's that?"

"We're being jammed, sir; those cruisers just began putting out interference patterns."

"Do what you can to compensate."

The transmission cleared up enough to be understood, save for a few cracks and garbles which drowned out the Admiral’s voice for a few seconds. "Forward group open—ire, suppo—t groups one and two move up to f-f-f-f-flank us."

Romeo was almost relieved at that; he knew Rumsfield was the type of man who wouldn’t bother with hailing frequencies once the shooting began. "Lieutenant Pardek, target the forwardmost cruiser and fire at will."

Selune nodded slightly, punching the appropriate commands into the targeting computer. Outside, the twin black stripes snaking along the FELIX's forward section glowed to life at their far ends with small sparkling shimmers of red-orange light. The points advanced across the length of the phaser strips and began to release a wild fury of orange lightning across the starscape. Other starships did likewise, launching a barrage of phaser fire in the general direction of the attacking fleet. Within seconds, orange-red lines of phaser energy were stretched out across the heavens, pushing out like angular strands of a spider’s web to meet the Imperial cruisers.

After the initial strikes, the phaser banks on the starships paused to recharge, and the vessels turned, lining up their launchers to release salvos of photon and quantum torpedoes. The missiles rushed among the emerald bolts of the turbolasers, a few by chance colliding with some and exploding in spectacular plumes of orange flame. Many of the others hit their mark though, spilling withering amounts of energy into the shields of Khal'Saad's cruisers.

One of the more unfortunate Imperator destroyers, the BATTLESTAR, took a disproportionate amount of beating from the StarFleet cruisers; countless red and white torpedoes smashing headlong into its belly. Halfway through the barrage, it’s shields buckled and the cruiser hung in space a moment, listing as the rest of the warheads crashed straight through her reactor bubble, sending the ship up in a spectacular solar fireball.

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Silence onboard the bridge of an Imperial command ship is a rare thing. But as the shower of light cleared from the exploded cruiser, tossing glowing debris in a million different directions, the Imperial officers looked on in stunned quiet. Never before had they seen such a shocking display of firepower from such tiny warships, and the realization of what had just happened took several moments to set in.

Khal'Saad broke the hush, his face a pillar of assiduously contained rage, his tone radiating his icy wrath. "Captain . . . avenge them."

Ferris nodded, "At once, Lord Khal’Saad."

Khal'Saad's words spread quickly across his bridge and with them came an odd change in atmosphere. The attitudes of his men inexplicably began to shift, their horrified shock subtly replaced by shadows of the fleet admiral's own anger.

The turbolaser batteries of the fleet paused for an instant as gunners shifted their fire patterns. The intermission was soon followed by a solid wall of emerald death roaring forth from the remaining Imperial battleships, focused directly on the USS ZHUKOV. Hundreds of proton torpedoes tore across space seeking the hulls of the other Federation ships as the first waves of TIE Fighters pounced on their prey, adding their own cascade of fire to the battle.

The Ambassador-class ZHUKOV crumpled under the relentless assault, buckling, twisting, and finally detonating as the violent attack pressed down through her hull, tearing through her warp core and sending her up in a similarly blinding flash of light and energy which had hailed the final exodus of the BATTLESTAR.

Imperial fire crews wasted no time shifting to the remaining ships, cutting loose with every last cannon at their disposal. For a moment, the forward Federation fleet scrambled, each of the vessels darting away from the heart of the assault like oil from water. Shield bubbles glowed and fizzled, some of them collapsing, exposing the hulls of a few of the starships to the tearing fury of the Imperial torpedoes.

As they did so, flights of escorted TIE Bombers dove in from above, unloading their own consignments of explosives and breaking off in precise attack patterns around and through the loosening StarFleet formation. The bombs punched glowing holes into some of the ships, exposing atmosphere or plasma to leak out in orange plumes into space.

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Lieutenant Commander Cyber Hare blinked wide as the report reached her Ops station aboard the FELIX. "Sir!" she exclaimed, "the ZHUKOV!"

"What happened?" Romeo looked up just in time to see the bright white flash on the edge of the viewscreen.

The bridge jarred again and Selune snapped another report, “Cruisers attempting to lock tractor beams. Outer shields down to fifty-eight percent; shields down on the RUELLA and ADELPHI. RUELLA reports she’s venting drive plasma.”

"Hard to port!" Weiss shouted. "Target those fighters with low-energy bursts, try to scatter them. Lock torpedoes on the nearest cruiser; dispersal pattern alpha two. Put us between them and the enemy cruisers." Romeo's battle sense was kicking in now; the sounds of the red alert klaxon and the rumbling of the deck faded into the background as his eyes locked on the viewscreen before him. Officers shouted reports and Romeo barked orders back, guiding the FELIX through the orchestrated light-show in space. For the first time since his assignment to the ship he felt entirely free to command. Xavier, who had up until his disappearance served as little more than a nuisance and an obstacle toward his control was now gone, leaving him to run the vessel as it should have been run from day one.

The two forward torpedo launchers on FELIX's triangular saucer began to spit twin volleys of shining white quantum torpedoes at the next Imperial cruiser, cutting gauges across the STEELFIST’s bow.

Space had become an awesome lightshow of flying weapons and energy, phasers and turbolasers alike tearing across the skins of the mighty vessels as they dueled. Missiles and torpedoes passed each other in the void, some blasting holes into the cruisers, others flying wildly off target and drifting into infinity; and the battle raged on.

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            Onboard the star destroyer INTIMIDATOR, Grand Moff Tarvik, Admiral Zinc and Ysanne Lisard had just completed briefing each other on the events that had taken place since the evacuation of Sullust Base. They each sat equidistant from each other on a large black marble table with an inactivated holoprojector in the middle. The room was drab, with no windows to space outside, and a simple painting of the six-spoked Imperial emblem on the ceiling.

It had been decided among them that the one surviving saboteur would have to be delivered to the regional governor in order that he may be properly interrogated. Given the importance of the situation, the three had ordered that they not be interrupted, and as such, through the first few moments of the battle had not been notified of the events that had already been set into motion outside.

If it had been any other type cruiser of the Imperial fleet, they would have known the moment of the first torpedo impact, but buried in the heart of an Executor-class command ship, a floating dagger nearly thirteen kilometers long, the sounds of battle were simply too faint and distant for them to hear.

            Captain Ceteris, knowing that Admiral Raschuu had been given command oversight of the fleet, at first had been caught in indecision as to whether or not to interrupt the meeting between the governor, director, and admiral.

When the wavering voice of the captain finally did sound over the speakers in the conference room, Ysanne turned slightly red with irritation and stood from her chair. "I ordered you not to interrupt us!" she snapped.

            "My deepest apologies, milady," Ceteris said, "but I believe this matter warrants your attention. The phenomenon or whatever it is has reopened and Admiral Raschuu is conducting a full assault on the alien fleet that has appeared from the other side."

            Tarvik looked up, his face first betraying disbelief and then shock. "That fool!" he shouted; his whiskers twitching. "He was not authorized to undertake an offensive strike."

            Ysanne looked at Tarvik blankly.

            "Come along." he snapped, standing and heading for the exit. "If that idiot has done what I think he's done, then we may have a much larger problem on our hands than I predicted . . ."

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            "Initiating evasive maneuvers," Steve said calmly and pulled the shuttle into a wide arc which landed the tiny craft just meters away from one of the side trenches of the GALACTICA. The shuttle slowed, Steve’s eyes locked on the starfield; the enormous length of the star destroyer became all the more apparent as it blotted out half the sky.

            Brett continued to whimper and Khajja glared in her direction. "Quiet, ensign,"

            But Brett was too worked up to pay him any mind. "I don't wanna dieeeee!" she yelled.

            The shuttle quickly cleared the GALACTICA and continued on its course toward the DEATH STAR. But as the looming moon-like orb of the battle station came into view, the two, even larger hulks of the INTIMIDATOR and TYRANT made Brett turn pale under her fur.

Enormous bolts of turbolaser fire were oozing off the twin command ships like rain, spraying emerald across the stars to assault the Federation fleet that the away team had just departed from. The sheer volume of the assault caught Steve off guard, again forcing him to twist the shuttle into a series of rolls and dives to avoid being obliterated by the onslaught.

"Oh we are sooooooo gonna die!!!"

"Ensign Walick!" Khajja roared, "I won't ask you again!"

For once in her life, Lanna agreed with Khajja’s sentiment.

            Brett snapped to attention and shook slightly. VonKlatt had managed to snap her out of panic for the moment, but her teeth were still chattering and there was a wild look in her eyes.

            Soon, the tiny craft passed between the two titans, proceeding unimpeded to the enormous battle station. As the circle of the DEATH STAR gradually expanded to fill the entire cockpit window, replacing the serene pattern of pearls and ebony with a dull, deathlike grey mesh, the ensign found it much more difficult to force herself to remain quiet.

"We're crossing through the magnetic field," Lanna Tigris announced, turning halfway around in her swivel chair.

            The shuttle descended, the grey mesh of metal gradually giving way to blaster towers and surface structures. Steve set the craft down between two box-shaped buildings and latched onto the DEATH STAR’s hull, sending a loud clang resounding through the small transport.

            "All right." Khajja said, "We'll beam inside in two groups of three and work our way toward the captain's signal. We'll maintain constant COMM contact as each team begins the search. Keep your guard up and stay with your group. We've run through the simulations enough times to have this down." He looked to Brett and then to Steve. "You two will wait here and prepare to beam us back in case we run into trouble. Once we’re aboard, shut down main power; it should make it harder for anyone to detect the shuttle."

            Steve nodded. "Aye, sir."

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            "Damage report!" Admiral Rumsfield yelled, his hands clenching the armrests of his command chair, a panel exploding on a nameless ensign behind him.

            "Inertial dampers at thirty-two percent,” a voice rose over the din of the battle. “Warp drive and half the phaser plasma distribution manifold is offline. Shields are at fourteen-percent, but regenerating."

            “One of the smaller cruisers seems to have lost their propulsion systems. The WOLFE reports their hull has been compromised; they’ve lost attitude control. The RENDELL no longer has use of her warp drive.”

            The admiral frowned and turned around to his tactical officer. "Is multi-vector-assault-mode possible?"

            The officer nodded. "Yes sir. But . . .” his voice was oddly timid, “. . . risking separation at such low power . . . our structural integrity field . . ."

            "Do it." Rumsfield snapped. "Target one of the larger cruisers; pay special attention to its heavy guns."

            Both the Federation and Imperial armadas were slowly beginning to crumble as the incredible firepower tossed between the two tore at the fleets. Imperial and StarFleet ships alike were riddled with holes and burn marks, chunks of the cruisers floating in debris fields, creating an obstacle course for the cloud of fighters circling around them.

            And then as suddenly as the order to attack the newcomers had come, the authoritative voice of Governor Tarvik brought the chaos to a halt. As suddenly as they had begun their assault, the Imperial cruisers withdrew toward the DEATH STAR and the wild barrage of weapons fire quickly dwindled away. The fighters continued to swarm around the Federation task force, but ceased to attack. 

            “Belay that.” Rumsfield stood, “open a channel to the fleet; cease fire cease fire!”

            When there was once again silence in the heavens, the leaders of all the vessels represented in the skirmish looked out at their opposition and wondered in earnest what was to happen next.

Chapter 11
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