I get to conquer the Federation (SW SI X ST)

WhiteDragon25 · Feb 16, 2023

Damn it, I thought this sorry excuse of a fic finally died.

Jaenera Targaryen said:
Originally, it was only Beta canon. Post-STD, it's Alpha canon: Section 31 or rather the AI ~~Skynet~~ Uraei/Control is pulling the strings, and has been since at least the 22nd Century.

I simply built on that. Admittedly a bit too on the nose, but the Federation is now canonically just a gigantic construct of smoke and mirrors run behind the scenes by a bunch of ideologues and an insane AI.

EDIT: Basically, Star Trek is what happens when Hydra wins. People have willingly if unknowingly surrendered their freedom to live in complacent comfort and security.

EDIT: Or, now that I think about it, a better comparison would be the Templars from Assassin's Creed winning. Humanity - and other species in the Federation - live in an idyllic utopia under the leadership of an enlightened elite, with no need to think or do anything for themselves.

Oh, that's a load of bullshit. You're comparing the UFP and Starfleet to fucking Hydra now!? Hydra is run by fucking Nazis! If anyone is the Hydra analogue here, it's the goddamn Empire.

Also, continuing with the asinine asspull that is the balkanization of United Earth. Do you seriously expect anyone to take seriously a Chinese tinpot dictator proclaiming himself Emperor of China and claiming the Mandate of Heaven!? Three-hundred years of political and economic planetary unification does not simply disappear overnight, let alone regress back to 19th-century norms!

And when the fuck did this "Majestic-12" thing pop up all of a sudden!? What the fuck is this shit!? Now you're dabbling into outright IRL conspiracy theorist nonsense!

This is insanity, outright insanity.

ChackMete · Feb 17, 2023

WhiteDragon25 said:
Damn it, I thought this sorry excuse of a fic finally died.

Oh, that's a load of bullshit. You're comparing the UFP and Starfleet to fucking Hydra now!? Hydra is run by fucking Nazis! If anyone is the Hydra analogue here, it's the goddamn Empire.

Also, continuing with the asinine asspull that is the balkanization of United Earth. Do you seriously expect anyone to take seriously a Chinese tinpot dictator proclaiming himself Emperor of China and claiming the Mandate of Heaven!? Three-hundred years of political and economic planetary unification does not simply disappear overnight, let alone regress back to 19th-century norms!

And when the fuck did this "Majestic-12" thing pop up all of a sudden!? What the fuck is this shit!? Now you're dabbling into outright IRL conspiracy theorist nonsense!

This is insanity, outright insanity.

Okay, I'm genuinely confused right now. You have made it clear you don't like this fic, yes? You have drilled this point into our skulls.

...so why do you KEEP COMING BACK? At this point, I think you don't actually want to let bygones be bygones, and keep coming back just so you can get angry again. It's so petty, and downright pathetic that you just have to keep coming back to complain. WHY?? NOONES FORCING YOU TO READ THIS. Honestly, if you have so many complaints with the story, pm the author, don't regurgitate the same issues you have over and over again. It just comes off as mindless trolling.

AlphaOmega · Feb 19, 2023

Jaenera Targaryen said:
The report from Ambassador Lee was especially pressing, over Earth's political future.

I'm pretty sure there are words missing here, alternatively you can make it like this 'The report from Ambassador Lee regarding Earth's political future was especially pressing'

Jaenera Targaryen said:
when I could just have the Imperial Armed Forces handle

Add 'it' after 'handle'

Jaenera Targaryen said:
that you submit to mind-wipe after the mission is completely.

completed

ChackMete said:
Okay, I'm genuinely confused right now. You have made it clear you don't like this fic, yes? You have drilled this point into our skulls.

...so why do you KEEP COMING BACK? At this point, I think you don't actually want to let bygones be bygones, and keep coming back just so you can get angry again. It's so petty, and downright pathetic that you just have to keep coming back to complain. WHY?? NOONES FORCING YOU TO READ THIS. Honestly, if you have so many complaints with the story, pm the author, don't regurgitate the same issues you have over and over again. It just comes off as mindless trolling.

While I agree with you completely I think it's best to just ignore them at this point. If we stop engaging they may realise no one gives a crap about their screaming and go away.

WhiteDragon25 · Feb 19, 2023

ChackMete said:
Okay, I'm genuinely confused right now. You have made it clear you don't like this fic, yes? You have drilled this point into our skulls.

...so why do you KEEP COMING BACK? At this point, I think you don't actually want to let bygones be bygones, and keep coming back just so you can get angry again. It's so petty, and downright pathetic that you just have to keep coming back to complain. WHY?? NOONES FORCING YOU TO READ THIS. Honestly, if you have so many complaints with the story, pm the author, don't regurgitate the same issues you have over and over again. It just comes off as mindless trolling.

AlphaOmega said:
While I agree with you completely I think it's best to just ignore them at this point. If we stop engaging they may realise no one gives a crap about their screaming and go away.

You wanna know why? Because it's out of fucking principle. Refer to:

This fic is provably and demonstratively wrong on multiple facts about both the settings used here, and not in terms of technical details such as 'turbolasers vs phasers' or whatnot, but on characterization and socio-political interactions that are, simply put, completely unbelievable and would be called out as such in any other work of fiction; yet the author continually ignores such basic facts about narrative structure, let alone about human behavior, and continues on writing this thinly-veiled fascist-apologia on the assumption that we the readers are too stupid to notice.

This blatant insult to one's intelligence cannot stand. I continue making these posts as a matter of public record to explicitly lay out exactly what is wrong with this fic and why, to not let Jaenera off the hook in regards to duly-deserved criticism that would otherwise be ignored if it were relegated solely to PMs that nobody else can read.

And do note that, though you may find my postings annoying, a great many people here agree with me on these points, given the number of Likes I've received on each of those previous posts, so apparently there must be something worthwhile to my arguments here!

Megaolix · Feb 21, 2023

WhiteDragon25 said:
This blatant insult to one's intelligence cannot stand.

No. The correct action is to leave, close the door and stop coming in.

I'll even help you with that with a threadban. This seems clear you deserve it.

Jaenera Targaryen · Feb 25, 2023

Wild Transient said:
Well cant really argue much with that logic.

A sentiment i fully agree with.

To be honest, I based the Dahar master's line of reasoning on an interview I read somewhere with a Japanese right-wing politician, on the apparent disconnect between Japanese nationalism and Japan's deference to American policy. It turns out there isn't. Japan would only bow to a foreign power with overwhelmingly superior might, something the USA proved beyond question in WWII, and in the decades that followed.

Basically, the Dahar master would have been fine with the Klingons becoming Federation vassals if the latter did it the right way, i.e. crushing the Klingon armies and destroying their fleet in proper combat. Instead, they chose to subvert Klingon society, washing it out with the ultimate goal of erasing what makes the Klingons Klingons to begin with, and leaving them just another easily-forgettable race among many in the Federation.

It's a gutless and dishonorable way to win, and which makes the Dahar master wonder if the Federation even has the balls to win in a proper fight. And the funny thing is, meta-wise, they don't. Not in canon. TNG showed this in an alternate timeline, where a Klingon-Federation War was shown as a decades-long conflict of attrition that slowly but steadily tipped in the Klingons' favor.

icgmaesltrom · Feb 28, 2023

I think that this fic even if its exaggerated actually highlights important points for any sci-fi series.

Literally almost every other show has some problems (Expanse, Battlestar, Stargate, Star Wars, ect.)

They all point towards the political, social, economic, and military problems associated with utopia ideas. Really utopia is always a dream and its commendable but must be grounded by actual reality because unless everyone is immortal with god like powers there is no way we would even get close to a utopia due to human individualism.

Really I like the fact that it went with a mostly normal character that worked their way up, Not some gamer that unlocked unlimited power within months. I don't mind power-wanks but this is a great slice-of-war fic that keeps it to the realistic hard sci-fi type war and actually points towards the problems of conquering and maintaining peace post-war compared to win it all and hand wave fics.

Jaenera Targaryen · Feb 28, 2023

icgmaesltrom said:
They all point towards the political, social, economic, and military problems associated with utopia ideas. Really utopia is always a dream and its commendable but must be grounded by actual reality because unless everyone is immortal with god like powers there is no way we would even get close to a utopia due to human individualism.

And even then, I find it questionable that utopia is a good thing in the long term, what with this thing called Human - or sapient - nature. Call me cynical, but people have a tendency to take things to extremes when they can get anything and everything they want with minimal effort and cause. Combine that with utopia, and well...

Simply put, the devil finds work for idle hands.

Here's the scenario. We have a society where automation has removed the need for hard labor, FTL travel and communications have solved the issues of limited living space and resources, similarly-advanced technology has made disease and even foreign invasion things of the past, and even made the laws of physics themselves malleable. People are finally free to simply indulge and cultivate in the finer side of life. And for a while, all is good. Cities turn into idyllic vistas where even humble homes are works of art in themselves, people spend their waking hours either discussing history, philosophy, literature, and other academic matters with their peers, attend artistic exhibitions and cultural expressions, or work on their own personal hobbies. Even the countryside becomes a vision of paradise, nature allowed to grow wild while carefully cultivated to be in perfect harmony with civilization, people taking the time to walk alone or in small groups to experience nature unblemished up close and personal.

And again, all is good. Civilization has reached its peak. Hardship, war, disease, maybe even death itself are all things of the past. Surely, there's nothing wrong with enjoying everything life has to offer, isn't there? Of exploring the boundaries of creativity, experiencing new sights, new places, or even just simple sensation, whether it comes from watching a play, hearing a poem being read, examining paintings, sculptures, and other works of art, or even making and participating in all those yourself.

It works. For centuries, millennia, even, civilization prospers. Peace and prosperity became matters of fact, resulting in works of great beauty and wonder as people explore and develop entirely new and untried methods of expression. But, after a while, things begin to get...dull. A plateau is reached, with even the newest forms of art and culture seemingly just another spin on something that's come before, just painted a different color, portrayed in a different light. So, a leap is made. Just a simple thing, really, maybe as simple as instead of just swimming through a kilometer-long pool of water in zero-gravity, a person decides to go swimming through a kilometer-long pool of sugar water in zero-gravity.

It's insane. Stupid, even. Eccentric, at best, and it would never catch on for how wasteful, indulgent, and even decadent it is.

It becomes a huge hit, the person behind it praised as a visionary for trying something truly new, and it starts a new trend. And from there, people begin to branch out, extending their creativity, their exploration of new and untried experiences and sensations into avenues previously decried as decadent at best and unethical at worst. Swimming in sugar soon turns into swimming in wine. The wild is no longer to be experienced as an objective viewer, but as an active participant, hunting prey as predators do in the wild. Combat sports allow for ritual combat to first blood to add a real element of danger to the experience. An artist uses his own blood and tears to make a painting. Another cuts off his own hand, and while it's easily regrown, he uses the bones of the severed hand to make a sculpture. Others even use psychedelic substances to gain inspiration impossible to gain in nature, and portray vivid new vistas on canvas.

Slowly, but surely, a rot begins to set in. Hunting wild animals becomes boring, living, thinking creatures, though...what a glorious experience! First blood isn't enough danger in the ring, only battles to the death will do. Why should artists limit themselves to blood and tears? Why not bile and other body fluids? And why limit themselves to their own bodies either? Psychedelics and other chemical modifiers offer such wonderful ways to spice up life, so why limit them for artistic inspiration only, and not use them in all waking hours?

As blood spills to the baying of the mob and tables groan under the weight of food, drink, and bodies, some people realize that society has gone too far. They call for moderation, a return to sanity, and proper ways of expression instead of simple and hedonistic indulgence.

Outrage results. How dare they try and limit this golden age of wonder? How dare they try and control the way other people live their lives? To censor all the many ways people can and should be able to express themselves? If paradise isn't good enough for them, then maybe they should just up and leave.

Some do. They go to the frontier, to wild and untamed worlds, renounce their advanced technology, and live simple and hard lives farming and fishing and other such things. Others, unwilling to go to such extremes, take what few echoes remain of sanity, and leave in generation ships, wandering the empty vistas of space in the untainted light of the stars.

In their wake, civilization continues. Art becomes meaningless if it isn't alive, screaming/moaning masses of flesh sculpted into all shapes and sizes. Gladiators give way to armies fighting not for resources or beliefs, but simply to express and experience the full range of sensations offered by combat. All these and more become commonplace, but it's never enough, seems can never be enough, that life itself has become too limiting, keeping people from experiencing and exploring everything the universe offers.

And in an instant, it all ends. A civilization that stood for tens, if not hundreds of thousands of year destroys itself, seeking the ultimate experience, to explore the truly final frontier: death itself. All that's left are the burnt-out husks of worlds, the shattered ruins of cities, nightmarish stories and horrific legends, and weeping exiles on the frontier, lamenting the memory of what once was, and how it all ended.

Sound familiar? It's basically the Fall of the Eldar, minus the psychic and god-forging aspects. And IMO, it's also the future that awaits the Federation in canon.

Really I like the fact that it went with a mostly normal character that worked their way up, Not some gamer that unlocked unlimited power within months. I don't mind power-wanks but this is a great slice-of-war fic that keeps it to the realistic hard sci-fi type war and actually points towards the problems of conquering and maintaining peace post-war compared to win it all and hand wave fics.

Put another way, the Empire broke utopia, or what appeared like it, and now must take responsibility for people no longer used to thinking for themselves.

Okay, that's not entirely fair. People are learning/recovering quickly, as shown by UNAS, the European Federation, and the Northern Coalition (in China) telling the Empire that if the latter is planning to bring United Earth back, they'll rise up in revolt. And United Earth isn't really something the Empire wants to stand up for.

There are other options that just need further elaboration.

Sanbashi · Feb 28, 2023

Jaenera Targaryen said:
And even then, I find it questionable that utopia is a good thing in the long term

most of star trek is told from a biased view point only broken in Ds9 and a little bit of Voyager.

A more realistic author would show that the Federation is a Utopia in name only (hinted at in the series proper)

The core of the federation would be near utopic but the outlining worlds would and are shown somtimes to be impoverished, often times suffering from food shortages or piracy. "Reeducation" camps would be common and far less idilic like the show presence (Paris was in a fucking re-education camp/penal colony for gods sake) It would show that except for some founding members cultural exceptionalism tends to be water down until it resembles nothing more than a 2 dollar cuisine stand in LA.

The federation's unwillingness to have a proper military is both a defense mechanism of the Bueracrats fearing the rise of a new Ceaser, and has resulted in a federation that has gained a galactic reputation for its perfidious nature.

Jaenera Targaryen · Feb 28, 2023

Sanbashi said:
most of star trek is told from a biased view point only broken in Ds9 and a little bit of Voyager.

A more realistic author would show that the Federation is a Utopia in name only (hinted at in the series proper)

Outright confirmed in STD, which made Alpha-canon the originally Beta-canon existence of Control/Uraei, an insane AI developed by and controlling Section 31, and by extension, the rest of the Federation.

The core of the federation would be near utopic but the outlining worlds would and are shown somtimes to be impoverished, often times suffering from food shortages or piracy. "Reeducation" camps would be common and far less idilic like the show presence (Paris was in a fucking re-education camp/penal colony for gods sake) It would show that except for some founding members cultural exceptionalism tends to be water down until it resembles nothing more than a 2 dollar cuisine stand in LA.

Marseilles, actually. Not Paris. Paris is United Earth's capital, with the Federation President also having their office there instead of in San Francisco.

The federation's unwillingness to have a proper military is both a defense mechanism of the Bueracrats fearing the rise of a new Ceaser, and has resulted in a federation that has gained a galactic reputation for its perfidious nature.

And not just to its enemies and rivals, but even to its own people. The Federation had a massive advantage over the Cardassians both on paper and in reality, but instead caved and sold out an entire frontier sector.

Once the Empire's in charge, there won't be any more of that. Anyone trying to carve off chunks of the frontier once the Empire's settled in had best be prepared for a few Star Destroyers and division-strength ground forces to punch their faces in.

AlphaOmega · Feb 28, 2023

Jaenera Targaryen said:
Sound familiar? It's basically the Fall of the Eldar, minus the psychic and god-forging aspects. And IMO, it's also the future that awaits the Federation in canon.

I was about to comment about that until I got to this part

Jaenera Targaryen said:
Once the Empire's in charge, there won't be any more of that. Anyone trying to carve off chunks of the frontier once the Empire's settled in had best be prepared for a few Star Destroyers and division-strength ground forces to punch their faces in.

I was wondering and I don't think it was addressed anywhere but what numbers are you working with here? From what I have seen so far and this statement I'm assuming it's not the 'few thousand troops for a planetary campaign' you see in The Clone Wars.

Sirnerdlord · Feb 28, 2023

Jaenera Targaryen said:
And even then, I find it questionable that utopia is a good thing in the long term, what with this thing called Human - or sapient - nature. Call me cynical, but people have a tendency to take things to extremes when they can get anything and everything they want with minimal effort and cause. Combine that with utopia, and well...

Simply put, the devil finds work for idle hands.

Here's the scenario. We have a society where automation has removed the need for hard labor, FTL travel and communications have solved the issues of limited living space and resources, similarly-advanced technology has made disease and even foreign invasion things of the past, and even made the laws of physics themselves malleable. People are finally free to simply indulge and cultivate in the finer side of life. And for a while, all is good. Cities turn into idyllic vistas where even humble homes are works of art in themselves, people spend their waking hours either discussing history, philosophy, literature, and other academic matters with their peers, attend artistic exhibitions and cultural expressions, or work on their own personal hobbies. Even the countryside becomes a vision of paradise, nature allowed to grow wild while carefully cultivated to be in perfect harmony with civilization, people taking the time to walk alone or in small groups to experience nature unblemished up close and personal.

And again, all is good. Civilization has reached its peak. Hardship, war, disease, maybe even death itself are all things of the past. Surely, there's nothing wrong with enjoying everything life has to offer, isn't there? Of exploring the boundaries of creativity, experiencing new sights, new places, or even just simple sensation, whether it comes from watching a play, hearing a poem being read, examining paintings, sculptures, and other works of art, or even making and participating in all those yourself.

It works. For centuries, millennia, even, civilization prospers. Peace and prosperity became matters of fact, resulting in works of great beauty and wonder as people explore and develop entirely new and untried methods of expression. But, after a while, things begin to get...dull. A plateau is reached, with even the newest forms of art and culture seemingly just another spin on something that's come before, just painted a different color, portrayed in a different light. So, a leap is made. Just a simple thing, really, maybe as simple as instead of just swimming through a kilometer-long pool of water in zero-gravity, a person decides to go swimming through a kilometer-long pool of sugar water in zero-gravity.

It's insane. Stupid, even. Eccentric, at best, and it would never catch on for how wasteful, indulgent, and even decadent it is.

It becomes a huge hit, the person behind it praised as a visionary for trying something truly new, and it starts a new trend. And from there, people begin to branch out, extending their creativity, their exploration of new and untried experiences and sensations into avenues previously decried as decadent at best and unethical at worst. Swimming in sugar soon turns into swimming in wine. The wild is no longer to be experienced as an objective viewer, but as an active participant, hunting prey as predators do in the wild. Combat sports allow for ritual combat to first blood to add a real element of danger to the experience. An artist uses his own blood and tears to make a painting. Another cuts off his own hand, and while it's easily regrown, he uses the bones of the severed hand to make a sculpture. Others even use psychedelic substances to gain inspiration impossible to gain in nature, and portray vivid new vistas on canvas.

Slowly, but surely, a rot begins to set in. Hunting wild animals becomes boring, living, thinking creatures, though...what a glorious experience! First blood isn't enough danger in the ring, only battles to the death will do. Why should artists limit themselves to blood and tears? Why not bile and other body fluids? And why limit themselves to their own bodies either? Psychedelics and other chemical modifiers offer such wonderful ways to spice up life, so why limit them for artistic inspiration only, and not use them in all waking hours?

As blood spills to the baying of the mob and tables groan under the weight of food, drink, and bodies, some people realize that society has gone too far. They call for moderation, a return to sanity, and proper ways of expression instead of simple and hedonistic indulgence.

Outrage results. How dare they try and limit this golden age of wonder? How dare they try and control the way other people live their lives? To censor all the many ways people can and should be able to express themselves? If paradise isn't good enough for them, then maybe they should just up and leave.

Some do. They go to the frontier, to wild and untamed worlds, renounce their advanced technology, and live simple and hard lives farming and fishing and other such things. Others, unwilling to go to such extremes, take what few echoes remain of sanity, and leave in generation ships, wandering the empty vistas of space in the untainted light of the stars.

In their wake, civilization continues. Art becomes meaningless if it isn't alive, screaming/moaning masses of flesh sculpted into all shapes and sizes. Gladiators give way to armies fighting not for resources or beliefs, but simply to express and experience the full range of sensations offered by combat. All these and more become commonplace, but it's never enough, seems can never be enough, that life itself has become too limiting, keeping people from experiencing and exploring everything the universe offers.

And in an instant, it all ends. A civilization that stood for tens, if not hundreds of thousands of year destroys itself, seeking the ultimate experience, to explore the truly final frontier: death itself. All that's left are the burnt-out husks of worlds, the shattered ruins of cities, nightmarish stories and horrific legends, and weeping exiles on the frontier, lamenting the memory of what once was, and how it all ended.

Sound familiar? It's basically the Fall of the Eldar, minus the psychic and god-forging aspects. And IMO, it's also the future that awaits the Federation in canon.

Put another way, the Empire broke utopia, or what appeared like it, and now must take responsibility for people no longer used to thinking for themselves.

Okay, that's not entirely fair. People are learning/recovering quickly, as shown by UNAS, the European Federation, and the Northern Coalition (in China) telling the Empire that if the latter is planning to bring United Earth back, they'll rise up in revolt. And United Earth isn't really something the Empire wants to stand up for.

There are other options that just need further elaboration.

Basically the fall of The Aeldari into The Drukhari

The Overlord · Feb 28, 2023

Sanbashi said:
most of star trek is told from a biased view point only broken in Ds9 and a little bit of Voyager.

A more realistic author would show that the Federation is a Utopia in name only (hinted at in the series proper)

The core of the federation would be near utopic but the outlining worlds would and are shown somtimes to be impoverished, often times suffering from food shortages or piracy. "Reeducation" camps would be common and far less idilic like the show presence (Paris was in a fucking re-education camp/penal colony for gods sake) It would show that except for some founding members cultural exceptionalism tends to be water down until it resembles nothing more than a 2 dollar cuisine stand in LA.

The federation's unwillingness to have a proper military is both a defense mechanism of the Bueracrats fearing the rise of a new Ceaser, and has resulted in a federation that has gained a galactic reputation for its perfidious nature.

Even before DS9 there was alot of things going on in books that showcased that Utopia was not so Utopia, although going down that rabbit hole is a maze of things, especially stuff that might be retconned, then made canon again or seemingly just largely forgotten due to either unpopularity or being generally obscure. Because like Star Wars, Star Trek has a assload of secondary material in writing or otherwise.

ganshunter1 · Mar 1, 2023

Jaenera Targaryen said:
Originally, it was only Beta canon. Post-STD, it's Alpha canon: Section 31 or rather the AI ~~Skynet~~ Uraei/Control is pulling the strings, and has been since at least the 22nd Century.

I simply built on that. Admittedly a bit too on the nose, but the Federation is now canonically just a gigantic construct of smoke and mirrors run behind the scenes by a bunch of ideologues and an insane AI.

EDIT: Basically, Star Trek is what happens when Hydra wins. People have willingly if unknowingly surrendered their freedom to live in complacent comfort and security.

EDIT: Or, now that I think about it, a better comparison would be the Templars from Assassin's Creed winning. Humanity - and other species in the Federation - live in an idyllic utopia under the leadership of an enlightened elite, with no need to think or do anything for themselves.

I'd rather federation be vilified by the fact that their utopia makes mankind castrated from their own instincts that push humanity towards greatness as a species.

Jaenera Targaryen · Mar 18, 2023

"Did you know, lieutenant?" I asked as I stood with my adjutant on the Courageous' command deck, staring out into the star-filled darkness of interstellar space through the Star Destroyer's bridge windows. All around us the First Battlegroup hung in deep space, awaiting the signal from the advance guard.

"Admiral?" Sara asked.

"Shortly after the Battle of Earth," I continued. "I had the chance to look into the history of Humanity in this galaxy. While less advanced than we are, unsurprising considering they've only been spacefaring for about two hundred years or so while we've been spacefaring for about twenty-five thousand years, they are fairly advanced. Nowhere near our level, but not quite cavemen either. It made for quite interesting reading, especially that bit called the Eugenics Wars from about three hundred years ago."

"From the name I would infer it involved a confrontation over genetic engineering." Sara said.

I laughed. "Indeed!" she said. "A violent one too, but not especially so. Pre-spaceflight Earth had three…world wars, they called them, the last of which killed six hundred million people. It was from that conflict that United Earth emerged, and eventually, the Federation."

I paused and shrugged. "In comparison," I continued. "The Eugenics Wars killed what, five hundred thousand people? A relative trifle, I daresay."

"Speaking freely, admiral," Sara remarked. "That's only about as bloody as a single planetary theater from the Outer Rim Sieges towards the end of the Clone Wars. Nothing particularly special by our standards, at least in terms of the big picture."

"Quite," I agreed with a nod. "Still…it affected the Terrans profoundly. Did you know that genetically-modifying yourself or others in this galaxy is considered a crime against sentience by the Federation? And that any species that practices genetic engineering must reverse any and all modification before they can be considered for membership? At least one species even ended up going extinct trying to meet such a condition, with the Federation shrugging it off as just desserts. All because of the Eugenics Wars."

Sara narrowed her eyes. "I recall seeing a mention of this in the dossier of Section 31's political prisoners." She said. "Wasn't leading scientist placed in cryogenic stasis for refining the genetic engineering methods used to create the so-called Augments?"

"He was." I said with another nod. "I suppose the Terrans' caution is understandable. The genetic modifications of the Augments of their past left them…unstable, murderously so, and our own history has shown that Arkanian society occasionally prone to…similar, incidents. However, there is a fine line between caution and obstinacy. It'd be similar to us banning droids and ordering the destruction of all existing examples thereof simply because of the Separatists' use of droid soldiers in the Clone Wars, to say nothing of various droid rebellions throughout history."

I shook my head and leaned against the railing. "That said," she said. "There's opportunity there…"

"Admiral…?" Sara asked, and I favored her with a smile.

"Conquering the Federation isn't simply a case of defeating or even destroying Starfleet," I replied. "To say nothing of forcing the Federation's member worlds to submit before the Empire. No, to truly conquer the Federation, and turn the pages of history, we must kill its soul, and bury its ideals. And that's easier said than done."

"I've…heard a saying," Sara hesitantly said. "That ideals are bulletproof."

I laughed. "They are." I concurred. "And that's why the best way to bury them, is to convince those who believe in them to do so with their own hands."

Sara blinked and narrowed her eyes. "Section 31 has certainly helped in that regard." She said.

"They have." I agreed with a nod. "But I think we can help push it along even further."

"Is that what Operation Stapler is really meant to achieve, admiral?" Sara asked.

"In a way." I said before crossing my arms and looking out into the distance of space. "Well, I finish what I start, and while Operation Stapler as a whole will be a huge boon to the Empire's goals in this galaxy, they'll also help me achieve my own end."

I paused, and turned back to Sara. "I started this war against the Federation." I said firmly. "And I intend to end it, and see the Federation die not just in form but also in essence."

Sara was silent for a long moment, and then drawing herself up, saluted. "It will be an honor to accompany you to the end, admiral." She said.

"The honor is mine, lieutenant." I replied before looking back out to the stars.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Located in an out-of-the-way sector and system, the cultural and scientific archive known as Memory Alpha had thus far been untouched by the war. Mostly; on one hand, the Empire hadn't come calling (yet), and no battles had been fought there or nearby.

On the other hand, news, while increasingly-censored as the months passed, continued to flow to the planet. This, in turn, meant growing fears and worries among the men and women stationed there, over their families, as well as their own and the Federation's futures.

This meant that panic nearly erupted when a starship dropped out of warp unannounced not far from the planet.

Thankfully, Memory Alpha's officers kept their heads, and immediately tried making contact, while also having their sensors scan the ship.

"Ship identification confirmed," the sensor officer reported. "It's the USS Ronald Reagan, a Constellation Class Starship, formerly of the Seventh Fleet, under Captain Gaston Descombes. Sensors also show heavy damage to both the engine and saucer sections, with heavy radiation bleed from the former, while the ship's weapons also appear nonfunctional."

"We have contact with the Ronald Reagan." The communications officer piped up. "Primary and secondary communications systems are down, so they're using a makeshift analog communicator. They report half their crew dead from combat injuries and radiation poisoning, including the captain. Half of what's left of the crew is also in no condition to fight or perform their duties. They also report their medical bay has been destroyed, and ask to be allowed to evacuate all their injured crew before they proceed to the nearest starbase. However, with the radiation leaks across the ship, it's too risky to use the transporter."

"I concur, sir." The sensor officer told Commodore Arnaud de la Croix. "Our sensors detect radiation from all across the electromagnetic spectrum, as well as along plasma and antimatter frequencies. We wouldn't be able to keep pattern cohesion."

The commodore hummed in thought. "Who's in command with Captain Descombes dead?" he eventually asked.

"…Lieutenant Alvise Scianna is acting captain." The communications officer replied after a few moments. "He's requesting permission to personally report to the base commander."

"Granted," the commodore said with a nod, coming to a decision. "Also, tell them to start shuttling over their injured, and have our medical crews on standby."

"Yes, commodore." The communications officer said. "They acknowledge your response, and pass on their thanks. They're also sending us a list of the injured, along with what medical data they've gathered even without their medical bay."

"Understood." The commodore said with another nod. "Security, escort Lieutenant Scianna to my ready room once he arrives."

"Yes, sir." The security officer said with a nod. Meanwhile, the communications officer was busy receiving data from the Ronald Reagan, noting an unusually-large amount of junk and corrupted bits coming with it.

Then again, considering the amount of radiation leaking from the damaged starship, to say nothing of having to use a makeshift communications system, that shouldn't come as a surprise. As such, the man didn't think anything of letting the computer dump all the junk and corrupted bits into storage. They'd be brought up later, to see if they could be reconstituted and if anything important had been missed, otherwise they'd just be scrubbed.

A few minutes later, and a shuttle launched from the Ronald Reagan, before sensors sounded an alarm. "We've detected a radiation surge from the ship." The sensor officer barked. "If I had to guess, it's a plasma explosion, probably from a ruptured EPS relay."

"Confirmed," the communications officer said. "The evacuees will be delayed, but the lieutenant's on his way down with several others."

"I'll inform the commodore." The security officer said with a nod.

"…damn," the communications officer said after several moments. "Look at the state of that ship. It's all messed up."

"Yeah…fucking imps…" the security officer grouched, he and his fellow officers all staring at the Ronald Reagan struggling to limp along in high orbit, even as a shuttle descended down to the surface.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It took about fifteen minutes for the shuttle to arrive, allowing Lieutenant Scianna to disembark, along with six other men. Almost immediately, he had the look of someone who'd been through hell, and not simply because of the bloody bandage around his forehead. There was…something, in his and his men's eyes, something that had most of the men who saw them shy away, but was all too familiar to the few veterans of the Dominion War present.

As such, there was no protest at the phasers holstered at the lieutenant and his men's waists, although it certainly helped that he provided security with clearance data on a battered PADD. "That bad, huh?" the man in charge at the security clearance center at the main landing area asked.

"Could have been worse." Scianna replied. "We saw ships get blown apart with single volleys, including some of our best ships, the Galaxy and Nebula Classes. Or we could have been melted by leaking plasma, like the captain was…sorry, it's just…fresh, right now."

"Yeah, I get that." The other man said, running through the data from the PADD. Strangely, there was a lot of junk and corrupted data with it, but aside from that, everything else checked out.

Besides, given the state of their ship, it was probably too much to expect even their simpler pieces of equipment to have gone unscathed. Programming the PADD was probably a pain, and it'd just be plain spiteful to ask men fresh out of battle and having just seen their fellow crewmen burned or blasted to death to keep up more than the bare minimum of appearances.

As such, the junk and corrupted data were put into storage, and the security man gave the PADD back.

"Checks out, he said." He said gesturing at a nondescript noncom nearby. "You can go right ahead, Petty Officer Allais here will escort you to the commodore."

The lieutenant nodded while letting Petty Officer Allais lead them away. Meanwhile the man manning the security station turned back to his console, noting the launch of a large number of shuttles from orbit. Quite a lot of them too, but then again, they were sending down about a third of the crew for medical help.

"Sorry bastards." He thought, even as he cleared most of them for approach, while redirecting a few towards secondary landing areas to avoid causing a bottleneck here. After receiving confirmation from the control room and other security stations, the man sat back, and pulled out a copy of a pornographic magazine from Betazed.

Technically contraband, but given how stressful things had become, the commodore had relaxed things somewhat.

The holodecks were still only for off-duty personnel, of course.

And he still had five hours to go on his shift, the man at security mused, before opening the magazine back to where he'd last left off.

Damn.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Lieutenant Alvise Scianna, reporting!" the lieutenant said with a salute as he stood before the commodore in his ready room.

"At ease." Commodore de la Croix said while returning the salute. "How are you holding up, lieutenant?"

The lieutenant sighed. "Could be better…" he said. "…really worried about my wife and daughter, they're both in the Altair Sector, and with the Klingons jumping in, well…"

"Ah…my sympathies…" the commodore immediately said.

The lieutenant took a deep breath, visibly pulling himself together, and extended his PADD to the commodore. "Our security data, sir." He said. "Along with copies of the same data about our injured we sent earlier. Once we've finished dropping them off and finished what repairs we can, we'll head for the nearest starbase."

The commodore nodded. "Understood," he said. "I'll send along some of our engineering teams to help with repairs, and I must insist you see our doctor before you return to your ship. I understand you're down to first aid given the circumstances, and from one officer to another, I must insist."

"Of course, sir." The lieutenant said before giving another salute.

The commodore returned the salute, and with a gesture, allowed the men to leave. As they walked out of his ready room, the commodore sat down, and began to peruse the files on the PADD. Barely a few moments passed when alarms began to sound, causing the commodore to jolt and look up in surprise.

"What the…" he barely had time to say before the PADD exploded, turning his world into fire, light, and pain.

A moment later and the lieutenant rush back inside with two of his men, Petty Officer Allais' lying dead with a broken neck in the antechamber outside. The other four of the men from the Ronald Reagan were busy welding the door shut, the control panel next to it blown apart by a phaser shot.

Both the commodore and his adjutant were down, and covered with burns of various degrees. The former was also unconscious, but the latter was conscious, and glared at the lieutenant and his men as they restrained the two injured officers.

"W-why…?" the man gurgled out.

"…we're all sick and tired of fighting for a lost cause." The lieutenant answered after a moment as he worked the commodore's console. "And we sure as hell don't want to die for it. The Empire offered us ranks equal to what we already hold, and enough money for our families to live in comfort for the rest of their lives."

The other officer glared as he began to slip unconscious. "…t-traitors…" he spat before finally collapsing.

Lieutenant Scianna ignored the insult, instead plugging in a small Data Storage Device (DSD). It immediately dumped junk and corrupted data into the system, which together with two previous packages of supposed junk and corrupted data, formed a modular virus that bypassed Memory Alpha's security system. The virus locked down the central archive, before severing the physical connections between said archive and the rest of the base.

"…all that's left then…" the lieutenant murmured while looking at images of fighting elsewhere in Memory Alpha.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Memory Alpha's medical teams expected to find scores of injured helped by their fellow Starfleet officers. Instead, as the shuttle doors opened, they only had a bare second to take in scores of gas masked-men with spiked helmets and light combat armor over camouflaged fatigues.

A second later, and blue stun blasts lanced out, dropping medics and volunteers alike to the ground unconscious. Alarms began to sound as security personnel rushed in, but in that time the Targaryen troops switched from stun rounds to combat rounds. Red beams lashed out, and Starfleet security went down screaming, barring those managed to get behind cover. From there, they ducked in and out, firing off phaser blasts, the Targaryen troops scattering to get behind cover.

Then Z-6 rotary blasters were roaring, trapping the Starfleet personnel behind cover from a fusillade of automatic fire. This allowed other Targaryen troops to lope forward, and toss thermal detonators behind cover.

Explosions rang out, and corpses fell before Targaryen troops advanced. Across Memory Alpha, similar scenes broke out as Targaryen troops overran the landing areas, fighting their way towards the local security centers. Rooms were cleared out with gas grenades, Targaryen soldiers charging in and mercy-killing downed Starfleet security personnel, twitching and writhing on the ground as their skin speckled and their mouths foamed from airborne toxins.

"Security center secured," a platoon leader barked over the encrypted line. "Phase two complete, now commencing phase three."

Slicers got behind the consoles, and quickly plugging in DSDs, introduced more viruses into the Starfleet systems. One set of viruses shut down automated security systems across the base, another set overrode the central control system, a third set of viruses disabled the shields, while more sets of viruses shut down the subspace communication system and surface-to-orbit defenses.

Then in the skies above, the Imperial Expeditionary Force's First Battlegroup dropped out of hyperspace, interdictor cruisers quickly spreading out to form a blockade. Nothing less than an Acclamator Class also began to descend, the second echelon of the Imperial assault being formed by a full division of Imperial Stormtroopers.

"Second echelon inbound." The word came over the encrypted line. "Proceed to phase four, deploy destroyer droids."

"Acknowledged." The Targaryen platoon leaders responded. While some platoons stayed behind to hold the landing areas, others would press forward, to secure the central archive and control room. But the Starfleet complement was already responding quickly, men and women of several different species already rushing to arm themselves and attack.

And there were far more of them than the Targaryen troops.

But this had been foreseen, and the Targaryen troops prepared to make it so by the time the second echelon arrived, all they'd need to do was mop-up. Heavy crates were unloaded from the shuttles, and destroyer droids unpacked, since refurbished and repainted in black with silver trim from the old Confederacy's dun color scheme. Activation orders were sent, combat protocols updated, and then the destroyers were rolling away.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A team of Starfleet personnel rushed down a corridor, carrying a mix of type-1, type-2, and type-3 phasers. They were headed for the commodore's ready room, where traitors had barricaded themselves in. Fellow officers had already tried to retake the room, but had so far failed to achieve their goals.

"What's that noise?" an officer from operations spoke up, the team coming to a halt as metallic rumbling could be heard.

"Something's coming." Another operations officer spoke up, the Starfleet personnel scattering to take cover behind support beams.

The rumbling grew louder, moments before a trio of bulky wheels rolled around the corner several meters ahead. They came to a halt, before unfolding into insectoid robots that deployed personal shields before opening fire with heavy blasters.

The onslaught was fast and brutal, the Starfleet personnel pinned behind the support beams as fusillades of red beams burned past or struck sparks and acrid smoke from their cover. A few tried to get off quick shots before ducking back into, but most only ended up smoking corpses for their trouble. And even if they could get off a shot, it just bounced harmlessly off the robots' shields.

"…screw this!" A Rigelian said before breaking and running.

"NO!" an Andorian shouted after her, but it was too late. Heavy blaster beams literally blew her in two along the torso, causing the rest of the team to scream.

Consumed by rage, despair, and even defiance, they abandoned cover entirely, firing wildly in the robots' direction. Their shots either missed or splattered harmlessly against the robots' shields, the robots' return fire killing half of them in an instant.

The Starfleet personnel began falling back, opening fire as they went, others trying to drag their injured away, but this barely delayed the inevitable. A few more fusillades later, and the firing stopped, the robots disengaging their shields while marching down the corridor, heavy blasters ready to fire.

Most of the Starfleet personnel were dead, but two of them were still alive. One of them was a Human, a young man from Starfleet's command decision, blood pouring from his mouth and nose as he struggled to push his guts back inside him. He wasn't very successful at all, with every inch of intestine he managed to get inside seemingly only pushing five more out.

"…m-mommy…mommy, please…it h-h-hurts…" he gurgled deliriously. "…help m-me…mommy…mommy…"

The other survivor was the Rigellian, who was crawling away, dragging her upper body along the floor and leaving a trail of blood behind her.

The robots fired twice at each of them, and satisfied that all viable targets had been eliminated, moved on.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Green blood splattered the walls and floors as Captain Calanyon slit the Vulcan's throat and neck arteries, the Valyrian pushing the dying man away afterward. Wincing, the captain reached up, and pulled out the knife the Vulcan had managed to sink into his shoulder. It didn't get in particularly deep, but the fact it got through his chest armor at all, when said armor was good at blocking penetrating strikes, said volumes about a Vulcan's strength.

"Too bad he wasn't dealing with a baseline Human." Calanyon thought.

"Sir," one of his men spoke up, splattered with blood, Human this time, as he approached. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine." Calanyon said. "It's just a flesh wound. More importantly, where's our slicer?"

"Already working on it, sir." The young woman replied, already wearing her visor with wires plugged into a cybernetic attachment around her neck, and accessing Memory Alpha's central archive. "The viscountess' prize is heavily-encrypted…the feddies really wanted to make sure no one could get their hands on this."

"Too bad for them." Another Valyrian said next to her. "What the viscountess wants, the viscountess gets. Especially if she's planning on handing it over to the Emperor."

"Hey, knock it off." Calanyon snapped. "Or do you want to brick your mouth up for you?"

"Sorry, sir."

"…and…got it!" the slicer said after a couple of minutes. "Downloading data, checking for viruses…alright, two minutes and thirty-two seconds in all, almost a worthy opponent."

It took a few minutes to get all the data out, before the slicer pulled out the DSD. Then she introduced a virus into the central archive, which would delete the data and all references thereof, ensuring her, and thus, the viscountess' copy, was the only existing one.

Said copy was handed over to Calanyon, who placed the DSD into a hardened container which he then secreted in his kit. "Alright, prepare to move out." He ordered. "Once the second echelon relieves us, we're heading back to orbit. All sections report in."

"Section 1 clear." The report came. "Section 2 clear. Section 3 clear. Section 4 clear. Section 5 clear. Section 7 clear."

"This is Section 8," a platoon leader spoke up. "We have control of main engineering, but Starfleet's trying to take it back. Holding out for backup from the destroyers."

"This is Section 9," another platoon leader spoke up. "Just mopping up here at life support."

"Section 10 is…clear." Another platoon leader diffidently said. "We accidentally, uh, blew hydroponics out into vacuum. No casualties on our part, but…uh…Starfleet…it's not pretty."

"Better them than one of us." A Valyrian spoke up over the encrypted line.

"My thoughts exactly." Another Valyrian spoke up in agreement to a chorus of ayes.

"Alright, keep it professional." Calanyon, although he also sounded amused at the exchange. "Section 11?"

"We've got Starfleet pinned between us and the destroyers at the living areas." The platoon leader responded. "We're reaming their backsides here, and we are loving it."

"You sick bastard." Another officer said to a chorus of laughs, Calanyon himself giving a laugh and a shake of his head.

"Good work, everyone." He said, spotting Imperial Stormtroopers and ISB agents approaching. "Mission accomplished."

iceknight90 · Mar 18, 2023

Jaenera Targaryen said:
"W-why…?" the man gurgled out.

"…we're all sick and tired of fighting for a lost cause." The lieutenant answered after a moment as he worked the commodore's console. "And we sure as hell don't want to die for it. The Empire offered us ranks equal to what we already hold, and enough money for our families to live in comfort for the rest of their lives."

The other officer glared as he began to slip unconscious. "…t-traitors…" he spat before finally collapsing.

Oh ho, I was wandering when there might be defections. Dying for the cause might seem very heroic, but I'm sure there's plenty of Feddies who would much prefer to live, and figure if you can't beat em, join em.

I wonder how long until an entire splinter faction of the Federation declare for the Galactic Empire. Like an entire Fleet or something.

Considering how bad the war is going, it might be interesting if the various Federation fleets and naval groups wind up breaking apart as central command falls apart and begins coalescing around their individual leaders. Basically a Warlord era. But presumably the remnants of the Federation would disagree with the Warlord terminology. They're just TRUE PATRIOTS, fighting to keep the ideals of the Federation alive!

It just so happens that Admiral so and so is too radical, or not radical enough, and we have to raid his territory for resources, while valiantly defending ourselves from his unjustified aggression.

Wild Transient · Mar 18, 2023

The defections begin. And i honestly cant really blame them for doing so.Now what sort of juicy data can from the central archive will be of use in the short,mid and long term?

Jaenera Targaryen · Mar 18, 2023

iceknight90 said:
Oh ho, I was wandering when there might be defections. Dying for the cause might seem very heroic, but I'm sure there's plenty of Feddies who would much prefer to live, and figure if you can't beat em, join em.

Oh, yes. And it's not as if the Empire isn't making it worth their while, seeing as this bunch of defectors were explicitly offered the same ranks in the Empire as they currently hold in Starfleet, plus a lot of money.

AlphaOmega · Mar 18, 2023

Jaenera Targaryen said:
I paused and shrugged. "In comparison," I continued. "The Eugenics Wars killed what, five hundred thousand people? A relative trifle, I daresay."

"Speaking freely, admiral," Sara remarked. "That's only about as bloody as a single planetary theater from the Outer Rim Sieges towards the end of the Clone Wars. Nothing particularly special by our standards, at least in terms of the big picture."

This is a bit confusing because Sara is basically repeating what Janaera already said

Jaenera Targaryen said:
"Wasn't leading scientist placed in cryogenic stasis for

add 'a' after 'wasn't

Jaenera Targaryen said:
shown that Arkanian society occasionally prone to…similar,

add 'is' after 'society'

Jaenera Targaryen said:
"Checks out, he said." He said gesturing at a nondescript

remove the red part

Jaenera Targaryen said:
get off quick shots before ducking back into,

add 'cover' after 'into'

Jaenera Targaryen said:
dragging her upper body along the floor and leaving a trail of blood behind her.

don't blaster bolts cauterise wounds? Or is it an effect of getting hit with the heavy version?

Jaenera Targaryen said:
Calanyon, although he also sounded amused

add 'said' after 'Calanyon'

Jaenera Targaryen · Mar 18, 2023

AlphaOmega said:
don't blaster bolts cauterise wounds? Or is it an effect of getting hit with the heavy version?

The latter. The impact site itself might have been cauterized by the heat, but the surrounding area of the body practically blew apart from the sheer amount of energy pumped into it by the heavy blasters.

Worse, she wasn't wearing armor. It probably wouldn't have done much good, i.e. she'd still be dead, but she might not have been blown in two.

Jaenera Targaryen · Mar 21, 2023

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.

AlphaOmega · Mar 21, 2023

Jaenera Targaryen said:
but not so much to really to be even a nuisance.

It should either be ' much to really be a nuisance' or 'much to be even a nuisance'

Jaenera Targaryen said:
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 looked up the scale of the Federation compared to the galaxy and the result wouldn't rate even a sector in SW.

I'm surprised that ESP relay survived two whole rockery's considering how prone to blowing up they are in ST.

Also can someone tell me what Memory Alpha base is supposed to be? I assumed it was on a garden world but judging from later parts of the chapter it should be on an asteroid/dwarf planet. Unfortunately Google-fu failed me here

Jaenera Targaryen · Mar 21, 2023

AlphaOmega said:
I looked up the scale of the Federation compared to the galaxy and the result wouldn't rate even a sector in SW.

On the other hand, it is very much frontier of the frontier, with a bottlenecked transport route.

I'm surprised that ESP relay survived two whole rockery's considering how prone to blowing up they are in ST.

I suppose I gave Federation technology a bit too much credit there

I think I'll keep it. Having kicked them in the balls so many times, they could use a bone or two.

Also can someone tell me what Memory Alpha base is supposed to be? I assumed it was on a garden world but judging from later parts of the chapter it should be on an asteroid/dwarf planet. Unfortunately Google-fu failed me here

As mentioned in the chapter, it's a cultural and scientific archive. Basically, it's a big library.

iceknight90 · Mar 21, 2023

Operation Catapult will no doubt come as a nasty shock to the Federation.

Throwing big rocks from space at targets as a tactical WMD?

Federation: That's barbaric and primitive! Who throws giant rocks at planets?! That's a potential mass extinction event!

Empire: LOL. LMAO.

ArchAngelGundam · Mar 21, 2023

Jaenera Targaryen said:
"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!"

... Well, it's a Star Wars fic...

Fellwinter · Mar 23, 2023

Holy hell. I finally managed to read all the chapters of this fascist wank story.

It's well-written and has gripping and funny moments. I do enjoy a good power stomp fix but this has all the flaws of such stories.

In a way, this fic reminds me of the Salvation War story from many years ago where an incompetent hell invades earth only to get completely humiliated and hell itself was occupied by a united earth. Tinfoil hats actually protect against demonic magic.

Another fic this reminds me of is A thin veneer where Kirk's Star Trek rolls over Babylon 5. Idiot balls are everywhere on the Babylon side. The Shadows are of course smarter and cozy ups to Star Trek while the Mimbari and the Vorlons get buttfucked into oblivion.

In short, this is a power wank where the power wank feels unearned.

Faber_The_Builder · Mar 23, 2023

Fellwinter said:
fascist wank story.

What do you mean? I see no fascism, completely logical story. Glory to the Empire! Down with the Corrupt Federation!

I am totally not being held against my will on the Core World of Byss.

Frankly it is what I really enjoyed in this fic, it is unapologetically just the worst in the morality angle, it is so despicable and one-sided, it´s actually good.

Fellwinter said:
In short, this is a power wank where the power wank feels unearned.

I would not say so. Star Wars is just kinda an old Sci-fi that leans a lot into the "fi" part of it than the "Sci". Do not forget that compared to Star Wars, the civilizations that the Empire encountered in ST are miniscule in comparison, it would take heavy hitters like the Dominion/Voth/Borg to really stand up to the resources of the GALACTIC Empire that stems from millenia of interstellar civilization while the Feddies are barely a few centuries. Coruscant itself has more population than the entirety of the Federation...it is not the only Ecumenopolis in the Galaxy too. I would frankly say Federation Space Magic™ is even more of a power wank than the Galactic Empire having competent leadership for once, the Science boys just come up with absolute bullshit a lot of the times.

rx915 · Mar 24, 2023

Reading what your SI used to be I think your SI is emulating plenty of those successful military career opportunists that got themselves in the history books at the expense of the loser's expense.

Faber_The_Builder · Mar 24, 2023

rx915 said:
Reading what your SI used to be I think your SI is emulating plenty of those successful military career opportunists that got themselves in the history books at the expense of the loser's expense.

Isn´t that what winners do? Learn from those that came before them(after them in this case, using Thrawn´s tactics). Like that is precisely what a skilled commander would do, it´s one thing to know a good tactic, but whole another to implement it in your wider strategic plan and execute it with overwhelming success like Admiral Targaryen did. Also gaining glory at the expense of the loosing party is kinda the point, war is not pretty, war is not clean. She is also formulating her own strategy and just using tactics she knows, really does not matter where she obtained them. More power to her with that meta knowledge. Is she really a career opportunist when she brings results by applying what she knows...like a military commander? She went through officer school, reached the rank of Admiral and can command, really not seeing opportunism here, outside of what any other career officer would do, so you are implying that she is somehow less of an officer for not doing everything out of a blind sense of duty...the armed forces are a hierarchy, I seriously can´t fault her for not wanting to stagnate at the rank of Admiral pushing pen and paper for all time due to COMPNOR bull.

rx915 · Mar 24, 2023

Faber_The_Builder said:
Isn´t that what winners do? Learn from those that came before them(after them in this case, using Thrawn´s tactics). Like that is precisely what a skilled commander would do, it´s one thing to know a good tactic, but whole another to implement it in your wider strategic plan and execute it with overwhelming success like Admiral Targaryen did. Also gaining glory at the expense of the loosing party is kinda the point, war is not pretty, war is not clean. She is also formulating her own strategy and just using tactics she knows, really does not matter where she obtained them. More power to her with that meta knowledge. Is she really a career opportunist when she brings results by applying what she knows...like a military commander? She went through officer school, reached the rank of Admiral and can command, really not seeing opportunism here, outside of what any other career officer would do, so you are implying that she is somehow less of an officer for not doing everything out of a blind sense of duty...the armed forces are a hierarchy, I seriously can´t fault her for not wanting to stagnate at the rank of Admiral pushing pen and paper for all time due to COMPNOR bull.

Errr yeah? From Julius Caesar to Napoleon and any military commander that sets out on a military expedition to accomplish some objective regardless of the uniform.

There's targets to be made and careers to be made to the victors besides possible loot.

I get to conquer the Federation (SW SI X ST)

White Lightning FTW!

Getting some practice in, huh?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

White Lightning FTW!

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Know what you're doing yet?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Know what you're doing yet?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Versed in the lewd.

SCIENCE! both mad, mundane, and perverted

God Emperor

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Generally facetious

Whimsical Dakka Worshipper

I trust you know where the happy button is?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

I trust you know where the happy button is?

Generally facetious

When all else fails, call in an airstrike.

Getting sticky.

Muchkin of Megastructures

Well worn.

Muchkin of Megastructures

Well worn.

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