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*A reworked Version of City of Dying Dreams, the title now better reflects the storyline and Episode II has been completed. I also fixed a few things to keep continuity in line. Without further adue, enjoy Episode I*

Episode I, A Man Stands Alone

San Francisco, approximately three months after the Battle of Earth

It was dark, even the light of a full moon couldn't help that much. Even the focused eyes of Mark Allen couldn't penetrate that deep into the shadows. But Allen knew the place well; he had called this deserted area home until a year ago. Pulling the light out of his pocket he studied the worn piece of paper given to him by an old friend. The ink was starting to smear but the time and address written were still readable. Quietly, Allen turned off his light and ducked behind a pile of rubble to make sure no one was watching. After a minute or so he ducked down and ran swiftly across the road and began to walk along the shadows.

At last he arrived, the former Federation Embassy Complex on Cochrane Street. It was here that hundreds of diplomats and representatives from all across the United Federation of Planets came to do business directly with one another. The Embassy Complex also had a large apartment complex that could accommodate a representative and his family comfortably during their time on Earth, however long they needed to stay. It used to be a glorious place.

But when the first enemy bombers made their raids over the city the Embassy Complex was targeted and over one hundred government leaders were dead. The once proud building now looked decrepit. Deep underneath the facility, the Federation had built emergency bunkers to protect the government officials there against a possible Klingon attack. Those bunkers were Allen's destination, a carefully concealed entrance to the first floor of the complex had been dug out along the eastern side of the building would get him inside, from there he would have to find an old turbo lift and climb down using the maintenance rungs along the side of the shaft. Then, at the bottom of the chamber, he would find the meeting place for the Free Earth Underground.

Before he could get down the last few rungs on the ladder, Allen heard the distinct beeping sound of a phaser, a phaser that was being set to an awfully high level. He jumped the rest of the way down and landed in a crouching stance. He heard footsteps coming from behind him, silently wondering if he had been followed he glanced over his shoulder only slightly towards the noise. A voice came from the corner, commanding him. "Where do you come from?" Asked the voice. Allen brushed the dirt off of his jacket and gave the reply, "Riverside, Iowa", birthplace of the legendary Captain Kirk. The figure stepped out of the corner and approached Allen.

"Welcome friend, I'm Lt. Matthews, you'll head straight down this corridor about 30 meters or so and enter the conference room on your left. Was there anyone else behind you?" Allen's voice was raspy from a lack of use as he replied. "I came alone, there were no Imperials in the area I could see but I can hear their damned craft in the sky." Matthews' voice grew solemn, "Ever since they built that airbase and garrison over in Oakland you hear those all of the time, last I checked they just stationed a wing of fighters over there." Allen nodded, thanked the Lieutenant for the information then began his walk down the hall.

It was musty, after over 100 years of isolation the chambers were finally being put to good use. As he entered the room two men in blocked his path worn out Starfleet uniforms carrying phaser rifles. After a quick scan from their tricorders he was allowed to take a seat. Allen took a seat in the corner to the left of a makeshift podium. He hated meetings; the formality was a waste of time. The lieutenant he had spoken with earlier entered not more than five minutes after him and motioned to the guards that the coast was clear and it was time to begin. The crowd hushed as a woman who had the rank insignia of a Lt. Commander took the podium and nervously wiped some sweat off her brow. She looked rather young to have such an advanced position, but if she had been working in San Francisco then it stood to reason she was on the fast track to some desk job far away from the responsibilities of actual command. Now, Allen thought, she was going to have to fulfill a duty she would never have had to perform, leadership.

"Greetings fellow officers and citizens alike, I know you have all risked much by even considering attending this meeting. For those of you meeting with us for the first time I am Lt. Commander Karen Quentin. I would like to start the meeting with a few words of hope. We are not alone in our fight here on Earth, all across the world there are groups of resistance working hard to restore the democracy that we once knew. The purpose of tonight's meeting is to pool what resources we have and develop an overall strategy to combat our oppressors. I yield the podium to Lieutenant Frederick Matthews, who has been monitoring Imperial news bulletins as part of our intelligence gathering. Lieutenant if you would take the podium please?"

Allen looked forward and noticed Matthews looked a lot different under the artificial lights. The left side of his face was severely scarred and the hair on that side of his scalp was singed and ruined, but Allen could still detect a hint of sadness in his face, as if his news would herald the end of the world.
"Too late for that", he thought.

"Comrades, I am saddened to report that news and information regarding the war has been very limited in this area. Nevertheless it is best that you all know as much as possible so that we can make our plans as fully informed as possible and so we do not harbor false hopes which could sabotage our efforts. No less than 36 hours ago the Empire ambushed and destroyed the Fourth Fleet at Deep Space Nine. Also at that battle, the Enterprise was destroyed and Captain Jean Luc Picard was imprisoned. The destruction of the Fourth Fleet has effectively wiped out Starfleet as an entity in the galaxy. The news isn't all depressing though, some of our sources indicate that..."

Allen began to tune Matthews out. The elimination of Starfleet wasn't entirely unexpected and news about fierce resistance by the Klingon Empire was probably fabricated to boost morale. He knew it was probably a lie since what little news came through was controlled by the Empire, and they had no reason to let something like that get out. What mattered to Allen most was what kind of resources these other freedom fighters could bring to the cause, and whether or not they were smart enough to use them. Allen's attention to the meeting returned when a man stood up on the other side of the room.

"Our group has done all it could to disrupt Imperial activities in the area, before the Empire constructed the Oakland garrison we were able to hijack a transport full of supplies heading for the command center there. We haven't opened the cargo to be sure what is in there, but according to the markings on the side we believe they may be some sort of weaponry." Allen's brain clicked into action, something in his gut was telling him that something about this guy wasn't right. He let the man continue to speak as he put the pieces together in his mind.

"We've also manage to salvage quite a few hand weapons from our battles as well, both Federation and Imperial." Allen's eyes shot wide open, the words escaping his mouth before he could adequately choose them. "Did you bring those crates here?" Allen practically yelled the words. The man who had hauled them replied, startled by the outburst of noise from the other side of the room. "Well, yes we were hoping to have the Lt. Commander inspect the contents herself."

Many of the people in the room grew puzzled by the exchange of words between the two, wondering if what Allen had brought up was significant, a few others looked toward Allen in disgust. Lt. Commander Quentin asked for order, her voice rose over the commotion in the room and regained control. Perhaps both of you should identify yourselves to the audience first. Allen looked back at his adversary, "My name is Mark Allen, and I was never officially a Starfleet officer." The man moved closer to the podium, "Wade Maxwell ma'am, Ensign assigned to Headquarters' security attachment. My people have been serving with me for a long time and we've been loyal to the Federation despite the recent war with the Empire."

Allen's anger began to rise; it forced its way into his voice as if it were trying to control him. "It isn't your loyalty I'm questioning, it's your intelligence. Have you even done a basic security screen? What if those crates are lined to explode when opened by unauthorized handlers, or worse yet, what if they have tracking devices in case of theft?" Maxwell stood stunned at Allen's comments before he came up with his reply, as if the ideas Allen proposed had never even occurred to him. "As interesting as your theories may be, we have had these materials for nearly a week, and they have been in this location for over two days. The Empire would have shown up by now if they had those sort of extreme measures in place."

Allen had heard enough; he immediately took off through the door at full speed. A few others hesitated at first, then followed him out the door, to them the security of the place had been shattered enough to make it uncomfortable. They emerged from the ruins only to see Allen taking off at full speed, veering off Cochrane Street on to Phoenix Avenue, which would take him towards the fringes of the city. He ended up in a neighborhood where Imperial walkers had trampled nearly every home. Coming to a residence still largely intact, Allen stepped inside and nearly collapsed from exhaustion. Suddenly, the roar of aircraft shattered the silence of the devastated suburb. Allen looked out a broken window and saw four silhouettes against the moonlight. "Looks like the Empire found the complex."

Imperial TIE Bomber, Grey One, on approach

Four TIE Bombers cut through the sky, tracking the signal frequency given to them back at the base. Every Imperial cargo container contained a basic broadcasting unit designed to prevent supplies from being diverted from their original destinations by smugglers. The cargo was fairly important, a new supply of Merr-Sonn/BlasTech EWHB-10 Heavy Repeating Blasters, capable of basting through heavy barriers and mowing down infantry. Those were not a cargo that should have ever been seized by the rebels, even these second rate rebels found in the new galaxy. Two Imperial officers had been executed as a result and now a flight of bombers was being dispatched on damage control duty. The bombers were loaded with free falling thermal detonators and ordered to drop every last one of them. Following that, a Sentinel class shuttle carrying a squad of stormtroopers would go through and confirm the kill.

The lead bomber flicked the switch on his comm unit. "This is Grey leader to Grey flight, the target is now 5 klicks ahead of us, adjust your vector to the coordinates I'm sending and prepare to drop everything on the first pass, we can't give them a chance to escape." Barely a minute later the bombers had unleashed their payloads and the ruined Federation Embassy Complex was crumbled down to its foundations. Gamma flight then transmitted the confirmation signal to the attack shuttle. IF anyone was left alive down there, they were trapped prey for a squad of some of the deadliest soldiers in the Empire.

The explosions could be felt a good distance away, Allen cringed as he realized that if everyone had still been in the bunker they were probably dead. For all their faults they were still just trying to change the world for the better. Allen swore to himself that those people wouldn't be minor footnotes in a long Imperial history. He gathered some things from a small stash of supplies he had been saving under the floorboards in the house. A hand phaser, some rations he acquired in return for his last datapad, and a couple bricks of latinum he had saved that he hoped he could convert to Imperial credits. First things first though, he needed to find some competent allies. No one took on the Empire alone and lived to achieve victory.

Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, around 24 hours before the Battle of Earth

"Get back here you pointy eared bastards!? A group of Vulcans from the senior class had performed what had become an unofficial ritual among senior Vulcan students. Break in to a human student's quarters and perform some kind of sabotage. These pranksters had decided to use a mind meld on Allen's roommate Chad Ellis to get the security combination inside. Then they used some heavy duty surgical gel normally used for thoracic surgery and glued him to the ceiling.

By the time Allen had arrived, the gel had dried and Ellis had to be cut down out of his own clothes. The Vulcans had waited until Allen had arrived and laughed through the entire spectacle. Allen had noticed them out of the corner of his eye and was eager for some retribution.

"Choose your words carefully human, your emotions are getting the better of you.? The lead Vulcan was about three inches taller than his cohorts, it was obvious that he was going to do all the talking, and probably did all of the planning for this assignment. "Your arrogance is getting the better of you if you think you're going to get away with this." "Meet me in the gym later and we can settle it then? Or are you going to do the smart thing and just back out?"

The three Vulcans turned away laughing but not before Allen followed them into the quad and then put his foot against the lead Vulcan's back and pushed, causing him to fall face first into a nearby fountain much to the delight of the few dozen students enjoying a break between classes. "You insignificant little ape!" The Vulcan stood up immediately and brushed some water out of his eyes, apparently expecting Allen to run off like a coward. Allen came in with another kick, this time leaping into the air and knocking his adversary backwards into the fountain again. As Allen looked down at the now soaking wet Vulcan he lashed a third time, this time with his words.

"You high minded Vulcans, preaching your logic and sitting in your ivory towers, yet you?re still nothing more than heartless racists. Now if you decide to apologize to my friend back there I'll be glad to apologize to you." The Vulcan stood, silent at first, but then he reached forward in a conciliatory gesture. Allen looked into the Vulcan's eyes and saw nothing different from usual, the emotionless gaze of a Vulcan hardly ever changed. But Allen could feel that something wasn't right. As he reached forward to shake hands the Vulcan changed posture and rather than reach for the hand he began to reach for Allen's neck. Allen was furious at the treachery and he braced himself for the famous nerve pinch, only the powerful hands of a Vulcan were capable of this technique.

The anger rose in Allen as the Vulcan's fingers clamped down, nothing happened. Allen didn't even notice the burning sensation in his shoulder as the now frightened Vulcan tried to make the technique work. Allen reached forward and put his hand around his opponent's neck. ?Now you will know emotion, now you will know hate." The Vulcan dropped to the ground, clutching his neck and gasping for air while his cronies got between their fallen leader and Allen. It was no more than an hour later that Allen found himself in the headmaster's office.

"Mr. Allen, how good to see you're still enrolled here. I take it you've been on your best behavior these last three weeks?" Headmaster Cameron remarked. He was one of those people that just seemed to enjoy tormenting those who upset the fragile social balance of his school. He did however, have his favorites. "I was reluctant to believe this report at first. That you assaulted our top graduating cadet, the Vulcan Ambassador's son not to mention, and were able to walk away from the encounter, let alone the fact that you beat him badly enough for him to require medical attention. I don't know how you did it but you've managed to invoke emotion in one of the future leaders of a species that hasn't even smiled in at least a thousand years!" The headmaster's tone grew angrier, probably because he had to explain to the Vulcan Ambassador as to how his son was thoroughly beaten by a young human student.

Allen sat in the chair; his rage had subsided when the officers had taken him to the administrative building, but the old man still irritated him to no end. "Sir, I was the one who was provoked in this case, those three..." Allen was interrupted by a casual wave of the hand. "Yes I know of what happened to Cadet Ellis in his quarters, a harmless prank I am told, this doesn't mean you can go around assaulting every student that does something so trivial. Before he could continue Allen stood straight up and yelled right at the headmaster, something that had probably never been done since the headmaster was himself a cadet.

"Listen you fool, I don't consider holding a guy down and forcibly raping his mind trivial. And as for breaking and entering then gluing a student to a ceiling is assault in itself. Those damn Vulcans should be put in the stockade. But I guess you don't care about mind reading and physical assault since I see that cute Betazed cadet in here after 1500 hours every day anyway. What's her name anyway, Lianna?" "Allen spit on the desk before finishing his tirade. "Sir."

Cameron turned his chair so his back was facing Allen. "That was your last and final mistake, I was hoping we could get out of this by you apologizing to the Ambassador's son here today. But now I have no choice." he turned again and practically grinned. "You will meet with the disciplinary committee tomorrow at 1300 hours. Pending that hearing you will be confined to quarters under constant surveillance, is that understood cadet?" Allen casually walked out of the room, before the headmaster could comment on the lack of a salute Allen turned and extended his hand, using an archaic, vulgar gesture from Earth's 21st century. Stuck in his quarters for nearly a day with nothing to do wasn't so bad, the only problem he would have is explaining to his parents how he got kicked out of the academy for beating up an ambassador's kid. Or so he thought.

It was mid morning when a violent explosion rocked Allen out of bed, he shrugged it off as another earthquake before pulling the blanket back over his head. He had been through a few before, then another explosion, louder this time and very close. Ellis ran into the room gasping for air, he was carrying a pair of phaser rifles. "Damn it Chad are you trying to get us both in trouble? Those are illegal on campus and I'm in the fryer as it is!" Chad struggled to form the words as he tossed one of the rifles to his roommate. "Listen there isn't much time to explain but the Academy is under attack, no.... Earth is under attack!"

Allen struggled to his feet and threw on some civilian clothes he had laid out the night prior. "Is it the Romulans? The Borg? The Dominion? Who the hell am I supposed to be killing?" Ellis fumbled through his closet and fumbled with a small recording device. He stuttered as he spoke. "I, Chad Ellis, being of sound mind and body, declare this to be my last will and testa..." Allen walked forward and slapped Ellis clear across the face. "Chad, get a hold of yourself, you've got to fill me in!" Ellis was near tears as he tried again to record his will. "A large fleet of ships from some group called the Galactic Empire entered orbit this morning, they blasted every ship out of the sky and have begun landing troops on Earth. There's about a hundred thousand soldiers marching towards San Francisco now, we've got to get out of here!"

Allen Grabbed the Phaser and ran out into the hall, if this were some sort of joke he would find out in a second. Running into the quad area of the dormitory again he accessed a data terminal, hacking his way into the mainframe and giving himself security clearances most Commanders would die for. It didn't matter if he were caught this time since he was already meat in the eyes of the disciplinary council. Apparently no more than a few hours ago large ships from an extragalactic entity known as "The Empire" attacked vital installations all across the Alpha Quadrant. Suddenly the screen went blank, the walls began to shake and suddenly a part of it caved in.

Allen watched as soldiers wearing faceless white uniforms began pouring through the new entrance. Cadets in the area raised phasers but were immediately mowed down by the onrush of enemies. Allen set the phaser rifle to overload and tossed into the fray and bolted towards a hallway that would take him closer to the main complex. Another terminal presented itself to Allen in the hallway leading towards the cafeteria. He regained his clearance easily, a sign that Starfleet was in such disarray that they were ignoring all of their computer security.

The Empire wasn't using any sort of transport scrambler in this area, but there was enough interference that he wasn't going to make it much further than the city limit. He bolted towards the transporter room with the smell of burning flesh and sounds of agony not far behind him. The transporter room had been abandoned, usually there was at least one armed-guard to prevent late night incursions across the planet but the guard had abandoned his post, probably ordered by some gutless pig like Cameron to escort is evacuation no doubt.

Allen punched in some coordinates that would get him outside of the city, near the suburbs hopefully if he remembered right. There he could find some transportation and get towards Federation controlled areas, if there were any left. Suddenly, a spark ignited in his mind that something was close to him, as he turned he noticed a white armored figure rounding the corner into the hall. Allen reach under the transporter console and found one of the phasers the guards kept on hand and began firing down the corridor. He then finished the transporter sequence and leaped onto the pad just as a series of red blaster bolts was about to hit him.

When he materialized he found himself in a residential neighborhood just outside of the city. Before he could stop for a breath though a large armored walker literally stepped on a house no less than 30 meters away. Smaller walkers flanked the large walker, with two legs instead of four. And there were countless small tanks and troopers marching towards the Federation Headquarters. The residential areas were being largely ignored save for the collateral damage.

Allen rushed over to the crushed house, the occupants weren't inside when it was crushed and their personal transport remained unharmed while parked in the driveway. Allen climbed in and forged himself an access code for the vehicle. He started the vehicle up and headed east as fast as he could. As he drove off he looked into the sky and saw at least a dozen dagger shaped monoliths in the sky along with hundreds of other ships, small fighter craft that were to numerous to count were escorting other ships that Allen guessed were troop transports.

Former Starfleet Cadet Mark Allen had no love for the establishment that the Federation had become, but he did believe in what is once stood for and for what it had brought humanity. Maybe he was less than an hour away from being expelled and banned from civil service, but when he saw fellow cadets lay dead and dying back in that dormitory he vowed to avenge them somehow. They were devoting themselves to bettering their species, and he would be damned if their sacrifices were in vain.

Questions? Comments?

Episode II, An Unforgiving Sun

Far Eastern side of San Francisco, about 12 hours after Allen?s escape.

The road was long and the constant fear of an Imperial patrol was beginning to wear on Allen's psyche. In better days this road would have flourished with transport, public and private. Finally, the weary rebel's legs could take no more and he decided to rest at an abandoned transit station. He toyed with the idea of cobbling parts together and salvaging a transporter unit from the public units but dismissed the idea as quickly as it came to him. Somebody out there would detect it, whether it was the Empire or of those damned mercenaries who came to Earth seeking profit by scouring out Federation rebels.

The station was a large open space supposedly an above ground version of the subways of the mid 22nd century prior to the development of transporter technology. When the people left San Francisco though, the transporters and train traffic disappeared with them. Allen sat down and pulled out what little food he had left. According to the label on the ration's wrapping the contents would be good until the 25th century, thanks in part to modern preservation techniques. Allen thought that if they had invested the time and research for better weapons than in keeping barely edible food fresh they might have lasted longer than a few days. The rumbling of Allen's stomach nearly deafened his ears as the ration bar made its way towards his mouth.

A sound from the corner startled him though, what he had mistaken for a pile of refuse was actually a human being resting underneath some tattered rags for warmth. She stared blankly back at him, eyeing the rations as if they were some long lost treasure. Allen smiled a bit and tossed the bar over to her. "Take it," he said "I've never liked these things anyway, not enough flavor." The girl sat still at first and then lunged toward the food as if it were prey. Allen walked over to the girl, she couldn't have been much younger than he was and if she had the chance to wash her face, could be very beautiful.

"What's your name, don't worry I won't hurt you, I'm not with the Empire." The girl retreated to her corner again and Allen watched as she clutched something close to her. It was a small kitchen knife she must have scrounged up from a residence. "Listen, if it makes you feel any better I used to be a Starfleet cadet. If the Empire ever finds me I'm a dead man, plain and simple." The girl looked up in wonder after he mentioned the word Starfleet. "Ok then, I'll go first. My name is Allen, Mark Allen." The girl's eyes kind of rolled before her lips dry as desert sand finally moved. "I'm Trina, my dad. he was a Captain on the USS Katella. They were just leaving Earth when..." She broke down and started crying uncontrollably. Allen then removed a small flask from his jacket pocket and handed it to Trina. "Here's something to wash down that ration bar with." She took a drink, and then handed it back to Allen, still whimpering slightly. "You're almost out, i'm sorry.

Allen looked down into the flask and shrugged. "Don't worry about it, I'll be okay once I get going again. There has to be something within walking distance of here, I?m on my way out of town anyway." Trina's voice rose sharply, Allen heard what it actually sounded like now. "You can't! I mean, you wont be able to get anywhere without a vehicle." Allen's eyes trained on the girl, his mind intrigued by her words. "How do you know this for sure?" The girl pointed to the other side of the station towards a wrecked piece of machinery. "I came from Seattle hoping to find out what exactly happened to my father, I was hoping he might not have been on the Katella when Earth was attacked. That was our family transport, one of those civilian Argos. I pulled into the station to find some shelter for the night but the vehicle crashed and I can't get it back on its side let alone fix it."

Trina led Allen over to the craft; he looked over the damage and walked over to the vehicle's side. "I'll have it running within a few hours, these things are structurally sound enough to survive a crash like this, it should still be working good enough to get us out of here towards greener pastures." Trina gaped, "You're going to flip that thing by yourself?" Allen closed his eyes and focused. "I've got a talent for this sort of thing, before the Academy exploded I was about to be expelled for beating the tar out of a Vulcan who happened to be the Academy arm wrestling champion for three years running. Besides, all I need is some leverage." As he pushed against the overturned jeep his muscles began to burn, as the hulk just wouldn't budge, he tried to push harder and still it wouldn't go. "Maybe I was being just a bit overconfident." He muttered to himself. As he recognized his failure at not being able to accomplish the task his mind began to scream at his body. It chastised his muscles for being to weak to move the inert object, it screamed at his lungs for not giving him enough air, it yelled at its feet for not giving enough footing, and it showed fury towards his heart for being so weak.

The inner conflict began to boil until the sings of rage were evident on his face. Suddenly, with a mighty burst of strength Allen pushed forward and suddenly the vehicle was slightly off the ground, Allen was nearly overjoyed at that fact but Just as he started to grow confident he began to lose his place. The Argo was about to crash back on top of him. A sudden upwelling of fear pumped adrenaline into his body like a river, and with a rush it was tilting back the other way. With a loud thud the Argo crashed on top of its four wheels. There was minor structural damage that wasn't going to affect the operation of the machine and other than that it was in good condition.

Trina was in shock at first, she then clutched the knife and began muttering, too fast for Allen to understand at first. "Slow down, I can't understand a word you're saying." Her cries became clearer as she projected her voice. "Just take the jeep and stay away, you're an Imperial spy I knew it! Just take the jeep and go I'm not who you're looking for!" She screamed again until Allen walked forward, slowly. "I told you, I'm not with the Empire. Look, how would you like to drive me back to Seattle. You've got nothing here except that knife and some ragged blankets. All I want is to go somewhere where there aren't any undergrounds operating. I need to rest, plus I hear Puget Sound is nice this time of year." Trina smiled a bit, not many Imperials probably knew what Puget Sound was.

"It is beautiful, the sunsets are amazing..." She climbed into the drivers seat, her passenger next to her. "No time to waste right? You?ll get plenty of rest if you want, you can stay at my house. Mom won't mind, she owns a restaurant in Seattle and she's there quite a bit these days catering to Imperial customers. Not her favorite idea of earning credits, but we have to survive somehow." Allen nodded as they sped out of the station and back onto the road.

After a few miles Allen looked over at the console. "It looks like the battery has enough charge to get to Seattle, if we don't though do you have any sort of solar chargers we could use?" Trina nodded her head sideways, "No but I have a small emergency battery pack. That would get us an extra 50 miles or so before we had to refuel." "That's good, I would hate for us to come all this way and still have to walk." In the faint light of the rising sun Allen noticed how beautiful the girl really was. Short blonde hair with eyes that glittered like a sapphire, her body was proportioned well, she was taller than average too, about 5'10. A year ago Allen would have been stumbling over his feet just for a chance to talk to her, nowadays there was no time for anything like flirting. Not until he had a life again. Trina looked over and caught him looking her over. Allen then caught himself and turned his head slightly embarrassed.

"So Allen, how old are you? You said you used to be a cadet?" "I'm 20; I was in my next to last year at the Academy. When the Empire's troops landed I fought my way through the building and made it to a transporter. I finished most of my training except for the political and philosophy courses, I was saving those for my senior year." The jeep bounced over a hole in the road, "That might explain why you don't act much like a cadet, frankly my father never cared for those courses himself. He always told me that you couldn't just indoctrinate people into a way of thinking like that. He said when he was at the Academy things were different; there was a lot of creative thinking and ideas. He also said that the Federation and our democracy wouldn't survive for long if we kept moving towards such a socialist lifestyle." "You weren't planning on joining the fleet were you?"

Trina's eyes welled up she fought back the tears but her voice showed much sorrow. "I had been accepted to the Leonard McCoy Medical University on a scholarship, in San Francisco of course." Allen bowed his head slightly, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked" "It's okay I've learned to accept it. Now I work at my mother's restaurant and one day I'll inherit it, unless the Empire takes that too."

The Sun was now above the horizon; the early morning sun warmed the world around the travelers. "Mark, can I ask a question?" "Go ahead, we'll be separating soon anyway." Her lip pouted a bit and she frowned at him and then sighed. "You'll be staying with me until I've repaid you for the jeep and there is no arguing that. But tell me, what made you go back to San Francisco? You had to know it was a pile of rubble, what in the Quadrant would possess you to do that?" Allen looked up at the Sun. "It's a long story."

Nevada Desert, Four Days after the Imperial Invasion.

The sun bore down on the cadet. The heat tore into his skin like locusts into a harvest. All around him there was nothing but sand and stones; the stretch of ancient highway was the only land route to civilization in this area. Allen had traveled east for a time until he sighted a series of Imperial transports heading the same direction. He then turned south and found himself in Nevada, where his vehicle had given out on him.

Allen moved into the shade the borrowed sedan gave him and shut his eyes. After all he had been through it would be fitting for him to die in the desert from thirst and exhaustion. Before thoughts of certain death crossed into his mind though another vehicle crawled over the horizon into his view. It was a large transport, a hover-bus like the one he remembered from his early school years. It pulled up next to Allen and a young man got out. He wore an ensign's insignia on a clean and well-tailored Starfleet uniform. "Is there anything I can do to help you sir?"

Allen stood and weakly saluted. "I should be the one calling you sir, Cadet Mark Allen, fourth year sir." The ensign nodded in approval, "If that's the case then you should probably get on the bus. All personnel have been ordered to report to the Field Training Center near Las Vegas. Orders concerning our future are going to be decided pretty soon and we'll find out what role we'll have in the new government."

Allen wanted to spit, guessing that there must not have even been a counterattack or an organized retreat. Not knowing what else he could do, Allen stepped onto the bus. The passengers all looked tired, as if the souls had been drained out of their bodies through their faces. Allen walked down the aisle towards the back. He sat down next to a lieutenant that didn't seem completely conscious as he looked out the window, not even trying to hide the fact he was depressed "Sir, my name is Allen, I was a cadet at..." the old Lieutenant suddenly snapped back into reality, his tongue as sharp as a bat'leth. Listen kid, I don?t want to know you or anything about you ok? I just lost everything I ever cared about and I don?t want new friends to die just like the old ones.'

The broken man then reached under his seat and pulled out a fairly large sized bottle of a blue looking liquid. "One good thing about the federation gone," he pointed at the ripped portion of his uniform where his communicator used to be pinned, "is that now I can drink all of the Romulan Ale I want and forget." Allen didn't want to talk to the drunk any longer, but he was stung by the comment. "What do you mean the Federation is gone, there's still over 150 member systems not including countless other inhabited worlds within our borders." He tried to sound as naïve as possible, it worked. "Bah, what would a kid like you know? I saw it all myself. I saw what happened. The Empire, they hit everything at once, they have these, engines that move faster than we could ever hope to have, and they blasted Vulcan into molten slag before we could send a ship! Pretty much every last one of them is now on their way to some Kessel planet I heard of. A real nasty Imperial prison back in their own damn galaxy. They're going to be slaves."

Allen cringed and he wondered whether the Vulcan ambassador and his son were among that number. Time passed and then a commander towards the front of the bus stood and prepared to address the passengers. He was the highest ranking officer Allen had seen other than Headmaster Cameron in over a week. "My name is commander LaForge, in about thirty minutes we will arrive at the Starfleet field research training facility. Most of you remember training for off world away missions and ground combat missions here. Orders from Admiral Janeway have been sent to all earthbound survivors to assemble at Vegas Base. While there we will reorganize and prepare to learn what our role, as Starfleet officers, will be in the rebuilding of Earth and the quadrant. I know it seems as if we've been beaten gentlemen but the Admiral herself assured me that her treaty with the Empire will protect us from all persecution by their forces."

Allen shuffled nervously in his seat; Admiral Janeway was not his favorite officer and it was widely known that she had been promoted to Admiral and put in charge of bureaucratic duties in order to get her out of the command structure. Now it seemed though, that the fate of the Earth and the Federation citizens on it lay in her hands. The drunken lieutenant started grumbling again. "That bitch, you know she's so anti-violence that she didn't want any of her staff to shoot back at the Imperials during the invasion? That's why she's alive though, the Empire sticks her in as leader of the puppet government for now and uses her bleeding heart to get us all into one place and then WHAM! We're all going to die kid!" Allen turned from the stench of alcohol, contemplating the merits of dying alone in the desert. He fell asleep soon afterwards.

Allen's sleep was interrupted by the sudden stop of the transport. Las Vegas base itself, a former metropolis decimated during the third world war and converted into a hostile environment training area by Starfleet even before the ancient launch of the NX-01 Enterprise. No cadet looked forward to his training at Las Vegas base. It was said that the instructors there could make Klingons seem like Ferengi in their ferocity. Many of them were veterans of the Dominion war and had fought at places that made the legendary stand of AR-588 seem like a pleasure cruise across the Risan seas.

It made sense then that the Las Vegas base would stand unscathed in comparison to the facilities in San Francisco, Paris, and Hong Kong. As the weary soldiers climbed off the bus several shuttles and runabouts began hovering into the hangar nearest the entrance. Allen saw that the Runabout at the center had San Francisco insignia on it. "That one is probably carrying Janeway" he thought to himself "How in the hell did that bitch get a Runabout out of San Francisco without getting caught by enemy fighters? How many could have been evacuated on those shuttles she is using as her escort?"

A commanding military voice boomed over the loudspeaker system set up all over the base. "Surviving officers of destroyed vessels report to the Auditorium in building 004 for debriefing, Surviving officers of San Francisco installations and the Academy report to the mess hall for your debriefing, all enlisted personnel report to the nearest information kiosk to find your designated location, Surviving Officers of Utopia Planitia and Lunar Base..."
Allen looked behind him; the mess hall was less than fifty meters away from him, after wading through the mass of bodies hurrying to their assigned locations. The mess hall was crowded, most of the officers hadn?t yet been given the opportunity to clean the dirt from their uniforms and bodies and there were a fair number whose uniforms and skin were stained with blood. There was no living being in the entire Quadrant, possibly even the entire galaxy that had ever witnessed such a conflict, let alone fought in and survived one.

A shrill sound cut through the air and the entire room stopped. Allen caught one last look around the room and noticed that there were far fewer survivors than he would have expected. The room had been designed to hold over one thousand soldiers both officers and enlisted personnel and it was almost half empty. Two Federation officers wearing the all black jumpsuits of military security officers flanked the front of the mess hall. A podium that served the base's graduation ceremonies and VIPs had been brought in. It was placed under the large view screen that served to broadcast Federation news reports and base announcements to the base personnel as they ate meals.

The sound shrieked again but this time Admiral Janeway immediately came from the back with a data pad in hand. Allen looked to his left and noticed his friend from the transport who had just begun to sober up a bit. That buzzer probably didn?t do his head any favors. "It's a good thing that great Admiral of hers had daddy's private runabout on hand, and those shuttles kept her nice and safe while she composed the concession speech no doubt." Allen ignored him, no reason to listen to his ramblings anymore since he was about to hear an announcement from the top brass.

"Officers of the Federation, it has been several years since I led Voyager back from the Delta Quadrant. During my time there I encountered many different species and civilizations..." Allen nearly rolled his eyes after that opener. Every speech Janeway made since her promotion to Admiral opened with a reference to Voyager and how much the ship encountered during the seven years away from Federation space. All the while she conveniently leaves out the numerous violations of the Prime Directive and her subsequent betrayal of the Maquis officers who returned with the Voyager crew. All the same time she managed to get her lover off in return for his testimony against Maquis activity prior to their being trapped in the Delta Quadrant.

Suddenly, Allen's attention refocused as the name of his enemy caught his ears. "...In accordance with the treaty I have signed with the Galactic Empire the remaining officers of Starfleet..." hatred began to burn fiercely in his gut. She had signed the treaty of her own accord and probably because she was the last of the Admiralty as well.

Disgusted, Allen began to work his way through the crowd and out the door. Once outside the heat began to suck the life out of him. It was blazing in the North American southwest that much he understood. But this was definitely odd, heat didn't make someone feel so disgusted, or so afraid. In he corner of his eye there was a small object streaking towards the mess hall. Out of instinct he turned to look at what it was and suddenly it was much hotter. A large explosion had engulfed half of the building and was threatening to claim the other half. Without warning another explosion cut through the dead desert silence. This one however came from the other side of the base; the main auditorium has been leveled. Suddenly there were more explosions, all in facilities where there we large numbers of Federation personnel. Then Allen saw what happened. The fighters flew over his head faster than he could react to. There had to be at least thirty of them and it looked as though they were preparing for another pass.

Allen was frustrated as to what he could do, to stay was certain death but he would definitely be caught if he tried to escape in a shuttle or transport.
"Bunkers" he thought. "There has to be some kind of bunker, this is a damned training base after all." His head turned in several directions looking for the proving grounds. That is where any sort of cover would be. A flat stretch of terrain with a few artificial structures stood out near the horizon. Recognizing that as a combat exercise area from his quick look at the map earlier he took off in a sprint. His mind pushing his body to keep going, the pain receptors in his body were screaming at his body. Attempting to shut down his muscles, through a sheer force of will though, he kept running. Focusing his mind on the moment and his own survival made him blind to what was going on around him, for in the short distance outside of the base, Imperial galleons were already landing and unloading their complements of Imperial sand troopers, a particularly nasty contingent of the Stormtrooper Corps that was eager to regain some of its prestige and respect after several debacles on the desert world of Tatooine.

A switch in Allen's mind clicked and suddenly he leapt into the air, his dive landing him into a deep bunker designed to provide shelter against fighter and artillery attacks. His landing however, was less than graceful and he nearly cracked his entire ribcage upon falling to the concrete, a primitive but cheap material not known for its softness. He lay there gasping for air trying to recollect his thoughts. Suddenly the ground beneath him was shaking. A feeling he remembered from the Academy. Had he been able to lift his head and peer outside he would have seen the Imperial Walkers unloading from the ships that carried them. Bolts of energy streaked toward the ruins of buildings and raining death upon those who might have survived, the fighters came in for another pass, but rather than continue the destruction, they came in slowly and landed.

Allen's mind began recording observations, one thing was clear. No one could have survived that horrible attack. The Empire had betrayed Janeway in order to root out the remaining Starfleet officers, the mass debriefings not only disguised the situation, but the Empire probably gleaned some sort of information from them. "Well Admiral it seems like you've finally fulfilled your legacy. Hundred of years of prosperity gone in less than a week."

Before he could finish cursing Janeway's leadership, a volley of fire from a walker came right towards the bunker, collapsing the structure on top of Allen and entombing him. Consciousness began to fade and lights began to dim. In he darkness under the rubble though Allen found one comfort. At least it wasn?t so hot.

The Lonely Road, outside of Seattle

"You mean to tell me you've been through all of that and you're still alive? I heard about the battle of Las Vegas. About how Starfleet rounded up every survivor for a stand and they were crushed by the Imperial army!" Trina's face was one of utter disbelief, the story she had just heard fighting against what she knew to be true. Allen looked back at her with a smirk, "I would hardly call it a battle, everyone including Admiral Janeway were slaughtered like animals. Probably just a bunch of Imperial propaganda trying to convince everyone that the Federation and Starfleet were truly dead."

Trina shook her head slightly. "There's only one problem with your explanation soldier boy. Admiral Janeway didn't die at the battle of Las Vegas." Allen nearly jumped out of the vehicle there. "That's impossible! I saw the building leveled myself by Imperial fighters! Janeway was in the mess hall when it went down!" "Say what you want Mark, but Janeway was taken prisoner and they sent her off to the new planetary capital in New York City. Seeing as how New York was one of the few major cities to take serious damage in the invasion it makes sense that Moff Wong would set up base there." Allen closed his eyes and uttered some profanity before selecting his next words.

"It seems like I've been wandering the southwest for too long Trina, once we arrive in Seattle you?ll have to fill me in on what has happened to our planet. Anything else you could give me for that matter." For too long Mark Allen had fought in isolation against the Empire. Right now his only weakness was a lack of information, in due time he would have that. When he did, he would blur the fine line between vengeance and justice, taking down every Imperial he could with him.

Questions? Comments? I did fix the punctuation again and tinkered the dialogue.

Would more people read and give critiques if I add SDNet users as characters?

Well... it appears you have a least one SD.net character..

But, you have a good story written so far, that's for sure. I like the angst of a post-apoclypic(sp?) Federation from a ex-SF cadets point of view. It's a nice plot that I haven't seen too often. I hope you keep it up.

I was planning on using a couple peoples as high ranking Imperials. And maybe hold a contest as to who gets to execute a hated caracter of choice.

I think this fanfic kicks major ass, and I WANT MORE!

Cool, Darth.
Keep it up.

Episode Three: To Suffer is To Live

The Shining Blue Gem Restaurant, Seattle

"Yes Captain we take reservations, a party of four at 1900 hours local time? All right then we look forward to serving you. Sir." Therese Adair programmed the reservation into her databook and let out a deep sigh. The Imperial officers and their cadre of women and bodyguards who frequented the restaurant ordered expensive meals and lots of alcohol but one of the wait staff ever wanted to serve them. They tipped very poorly if at all and were very arrogant towards the staff. They didn't realize that any one of them at any time could call in the local garrison and have the place shut down at will. She would have to do the serving as well as the cooking tonight for Captain Cyran from the Victory Star Destroyer Hadoken and Commander Nitram, who commanded Thunderhead's fighter squadron.

In the earliest hours of the invasion Nitram's squadron had been assigned to patrol the skies the northwestern section of the continent. During a routine flight Nitram's wingman was force to land due to mechanical problems. By sheer chance they landed in Seattle near the Shining Blue Gem. An establishment noted for excellent food. Nitram dined there while waiting for pickup and enjoyed the experience enough that he decided he would return, inviting Captain Cyran on his next venture. The Imperial duo continue to frequent the Shining Blue Gem since it is virtually unknown to other Imperial officer's and they consider it one of their best kept secrets.

Things were a lot easier when Trina was around to help, she was becoming a good chef in her own right and it helped keep her mind off of her father. But she had taken off in the Argo without asking and now Therese had no idea how long she had been gone. More than the help though, she missed the company, most of her friends had died along with her husband aboard the Katella. She knew she would be leaving them all behind when she retired from the service to start her own restaurant. But she never knew what would cause her to miss them. She would have been right beside her husband on the bridge. Trina would have been orphaned though, she had to keep reminding herself of that, and there was no point in giving in to grief when there were still living people that depended on her. But now Trina was missing and things looked as bleak as they had ever been.

"Mom? Are you okay?" Therese turned, choking back tears as she rushed towards her daughter. "Trina, thank goodness your safe, I was just a little choked up about your father that's all." Allen walked in slowly, not wanting to disturb the relatives' embrace. Therese noticed him when she looked up. "Trina? Do we have a guest?" Trina brushed back her hair, "Mom this is Mark. Mark Allen. He was stranded out on the road and I offered to bring him to town." Therese frowned and looked at the strange man with a bit of disapproval. "Dear, a lot of people don't have a place to live these days. You should have dropped him off at the outskirts." "Mom, he used to be a Cadet at the Academy." "Trina please be quiet, Cyran and Nitram are going to be here soon and if the Imperials spot a Starfleet cadet here we'll be arrested for sure." Allen bowed his head, "I understand ma'am, and I never intended to cause any trouble and I'll be on my way."

Trina's eyes opened sharply, "Mother can I talk to you in the back please? Don't leave Mark I made a promise and I'm going to keep it." As the two women moved from the kitchen towards a back room Allen took in his surroundings. The kitchen was nearly spotless and full of perishable food items he could take with him before he left. He probably would have left except he didn't want to run the risk of Trina following him, and he didn't want to argue with her because the last thing he wanted to do was cause conflict in her own home. But he definitely wanted to leave before those Imperial officers showed up. He looked through his satchel; he was definitely low on provisions. He decided against taking food though, he didn't want to sink to the same despicable levels of his enemies. He had no reservations though against taking some water, he grabbed his canteen and filled it at the sink, he took a drink and then refilled it. Quenching thirst had once been a pleasure he took for granted; now he thanked whatever deities were out there for the experience.

The conversation was taking longer than he though was convenient for him, gathering his belongings he moved towards the door, hoping to take the conflict surrounding him away from the home of people he hardly knew. He took one last look towards the door and pondered what might have been.

He didn't make it very far out the door before he heard a female voice behind him. "Where do you think you're going Mark? I finally convince my mother, a former Starfleet Commander who gained a reputation for being stubborn, that you can stay and when I come out to give you the good news I see that you're leaving?" Allen didn't bother to turn around, "I didn't mean to cause any problems and I don't want to be anywhere near Imperial officers." Allen tried to walk away again and again the words of a girl kept him from going far. "Why, why are you so damn cold Allen? Back in San Francisco you were a much kinder person than this, and during the ride back you seemed so open. Now it's like I can't even get close." Trina, I refilled my canteen and I'm out of San Francisco, as far as I see it we're even." Before he could step again the girl was right next to him, grasping his shoulder. "You might think we're even but I owe you my life, if you just walk away then you obviously think my life isn't valuable enough. Well if that's the case then go right ahead and leave."

Allen paused, here he was in the midst of a one-man war against the most powerful military in galactic history and suddenly the only thing in his way was the feelings of some girl he hadn't even known for a day. "That's not what I meant, it's just that..." "You don't need to finish Allen, I'll get over it, and I'm worried that you won't though. What happens when you're done fighting? You're either going to be dead or you're going to be so bitter and alone that you might as well be dead!" Allen looked out toward the sky, a flickering light catching his attention. "Allen, are you even listening to me? Because if you aren't then get the hell out of..." Allen hushed her with a wave of his fingers and pointed upwards. "That's an Imperial shuttlecraft, your guests are here." Trina looked at Allen and fought back tears. "It's my fault you're still here, go ahead then. You shouldn't have to be caught because of me." With that Trina ran back into the building to help her mother prepare for the guests. This time though, it was Allen who followed.

The shuttlecraft landed in a small lot. A section had been roped off for aircraft and the Imperial Shuttle took a fair amount of that space. There weren't very many guests on this night and many of them ended their meals prematurely at the sight of the Imperial shuttle. Cyran and Nitram exited with a woman on each arm, picked up from various establishments elsewhere on the planet during the day's "activities." As merry as they seemed the men accompanying them were decidedly not amused. Clad in the white armor of an Imperial stormtrooper and bearing their rifles in a way that demonstrated readiness they began an inspection of the Shining Gem.

The lead trooper immediately approached Therese and Trina as they prepared several appetizers the Captain and Commander frequently ordered. "You, discontinue your activity and listen." Therese looked at the stormtrooper, puzzled, "What seems to be the problem sir?" The trooper motioned for his men to come in, each of them raising a blaster in the direction of the women. "Our sensors detected a third individual, a human male, on the premise who we cannot currently locate that the moment. Who is he and what connection is he to you? You will answer promptly or you will be taken into custody and your property seized." Therese looked at Trina, who bit her lip nervously and tried to answer. "Well, he's umm, he's just..." Her stuttering was interrupted by a voice. "Just the new waiter sir, I stepped into the washroom to clean myself up a bit before serving the meal tonight." The lead trooper switched on his comlink and sent a request to the soldier aboard the shuttle. "Confirmed, continue your meal preparation, but be advised we'll be overseeing the entire operation. Any more security risks and we'll be forced to take action. Against your establishment."

Trina looked toward Allen and smiled, a rarity for him, which made him unsure of how to respond. He gave a polite smile back and asked Therese if there were any better clothes for him to wear for the job at hand. Therese motioned towards a closet in the corner of the room, "There should be a spare outfit in your size back there." Trina grabbed his hand quick, and leaned toward his ear, "Thank you", she squeezed his hand and went back to her work. Allen grabbed the outfit and went to the washroom to change. Things had definitely gotten complicated for him. His mind began to wander, wondering what in the hell he had done to get himself where he was. A former Starfleet Cadet, about to serve drinks to two Imperial Officers, a man fighting for freedom but catering to the whims of his oppressors, a soldier who had just discovered what, no, who it was he was fighting for.

Las Vegas, beneath the rubble

"We've got a live one over here! Have the construction droids dig him out and make sure he's watched at all times." The rocks were cleared away and the broken and bloodied Mark Allen was removed from the rubble by a group of sandtroopers. He clung to life by a thread, while the rest of his body had given in his mind was desperately hanging on with pure survival instinct. "I don't recognize this type of uniform sir, is he even one of the rebels?" "Probably just some idiot civilian who got caught in the fire, people on this planet are so naïve about combat they don't know to run when the shooting begins. Have a medic stabilize him and then have a shuttle take him to Colonel Olrik's detention facility like all the other survivors."

The medic came over and looked Allen over, shaking his head. "There's no way he's going to live through the trip, you should just blast him in the head and end his suffering. " The trooper answered back "You want me to have to tell Colonel Olrik that we failed to interrogate one of his prisoners because the medic wasn't doing his job?" The medic cringed, "Colonel Olrik himself? Please no, I, okay I'll do it. If he doesn't survive though I won't be responsible." "Whatever, just do it, then get back to work." The Medic never noticed, Allen was listening to every word, staving off the unconsciousness by focusing on what was going on around him.

Allen was placed on a repulsor-stretcher and placed aboard a larger Sentinel class shuttle. More prisoners were placed on board. Most of them were too injured to be any risk, but several guards with their blasters set to kill remained steadfast. Halfway through the flight one of the prisoners stood up to stretch and he was punished wit a series of blaster bolts to his chest and abdomen. The smoking corpse giving off the foul stench of charred skin and ozone for the entire trip, such ruthlessness was typical of the soldiers under Olrik's Command.

Allen couldn't keep tack of time in his current state, for all he knew the trip had taken the entire day. It was a short, routine, flight though. Allen was immediately carted off to the prison's medical ward. Few Imperial prisons actually had a medical ward but Olrik insisted on having one in order to keep his prisoners alive as long as possible. Whether this was to prevent his prisoners from escaping sentencing by some form of suicide or just so that he could interrogate them more frequently it was uncertain. Allen was lifted off of the stretcher and immersed into a large tank of liquid; an oxygen mask was placed onto his face and the lid closed on him. Allen's consciousness began to fade as he felt something within him strengthening, the healing process accelerating and his pulse rate returning to normal. The rest was wonderful, but short lived.

Medical Ward, Oakland Imperial Prison

"How long has he been unconscious," Olrik asked the doctor. "The field medic who stabilized him says he was out the entire time, but once we got him into the bacta tank he showed signs that he was still hanging on. We added some tranquilizer to the bacta mix to keep him sedated but we can wake him at any time with the proper combination of stimulants. His body will absorb them along with the bacta; he doesn't need to be in the tank though anymore, all he would need are a few bacta patches on his ribcage and then he can be taken to a cell. "Wake him then, but leave him in the tank and connect the disciplinary cables into the input valves on the tank." The doctor complied readily. Nobody hesitated to follow an order given by the Colonel.

Allen's eyelids burst open, his body reacting instantly to the stimulants. He was confused, wearing nothing but a modestly cloth around his waist and immersed in a thick, horrible tasting fluid. But he was alive and his body had been restored somehow. His first instinct upon seeing the Imperial officer and the doctor on the other side of the tank's "window " was to attack, his fist slamming against it at full force. The bones in his hand splintered into what felt like thousands of pieces. Undeterred he switched to his other hand. Colonel Olrik merely grinned at the futility of Allen's assault. "Doctor, administer bacta punishment. Level Four."

The doctor toggled a switch on the control panel in front of him, sending a powerful jolt of electricity into the bacta that ripped through Allen's body. The doctor discontinued the flow of electricity and was greeted by a scowl from Olrik. "I didn't order you to discontinue the punishment doctor." The doctor almost instantaneously flicked the switch and the pain came again for Allen. There were a few long seconds before Olrik finally ended it by picking up a speaker that went into the tank. "I might not be a doctor myself but I can tell from these readings that you're still conscious. I'm going to let you soak in the bacta tank for a few more hours; we'll begin your interrogation when I return."

Olrik was true to his word, a few hours later he returned with a detachment of guards. The doctor had returned as well. "Administer another punishment, level six this time and sustain it for ten seconds, then increase to a level eight punishment and sustain for five seconds. When you have finished administer the tranquilizers into the bacta and we'll move him." Allen braced himself but was unable to withstand the pain. This time it was much more horrible, he tried harder and started to reach out to attack the window again. The level of shock increased though and Allen's arm began to shake violently. As the electricity stopped Allen wore to himself that he would kill Olrik, and shatter this damn pod or whatever it was he was in. Then sleep began to overtake him, and the more he fought it the more it claimed him until finally he went limp.

He opened his eyes again; and was almost startled by the fact he was no longer submerged. He tried to get on his feet but metal restraints held him firmly in place. His eyes still hadn't completely adjusted and he realized there was a power lamp over his head. "There is a reason why my command is referred to as the Harbinger of Doom", Allen recognized the voice as the Imperial Officer. "You see, I've built my reputation on strong and decisive victories. My command has fought in almost hundred planetary assaults. Strikes against rebel strongholds, reinforcing overwhelmed garrisons, and the occasional planetary invasion." Allen heard footsteps. Even though he couldn't see his tormentor he knew he was close and pacing behind him.

"Normally after subjugating a planet such as this my forces would be recalled and we'd be off to the next rock. But this planet of yours," Olrik paced again. The sound of boots against the hard floor was driving Allen mad. No doubt something that the Colonel counted on. "My superiors think this planet needs some added work, and I agree. Your brand of human is proving surprisingly resistant to conquest. A very clever deception, hiding such a resilient population behind a soft, socialist, and inept government." Allen opened his mouth, they were dry and his mouth felt as if it was full of cotton, but still he found a way to speak. "Is that why you murdered all of those people at Las Vegas? You were so threatened by a handful of unarmed and beaten enemies that you figured..." Olrik cut him off. "Fifty milligrams of ecthyzene, now."

A floating object moved toward Allen, Allen spit at it. "The interrogation droid is very resistant to your expectoration." The droid inserted a needle into Allen's chest. "Now you might think you're being stabbed in the heart. It is the left ventricle to be more precise, the ecthyzene we're putting into your body will be pumped by your aorta out to the rest of your body. It's an interesting substance that stimulates lactic acid production in your body. Think of it as a way to feel incredible pain without doing anything to earn it." Within a few minutes Allen felt exactly like he did when he jumped into the bunker back in the desert. Tired, aching, and completely vulnerable.

"As much fun as it has been breaking you I believe it is time to start getting the information I desire. You wear no Federation or Starfleet uniform or insignia yet you were at one of their most critical installations during our attack. The only ID we have for you is the name Mark Allen, from your civilian ID card. We looked through the archive of Federation personnel and we cannot find anyone matching your description, neither in Starfleet nor at that ridiculous Academy in San Francisco. Allen smiled inwardly; Cameron must have deleted him from the enrollment after their meeting the day before the invasion. The old bastard had finally done something to help Allen out. A small chuckle escaped Allen's mouth until the wind was knocked out of him. One of the Imperial guards was brandishing a heavy pole and he used it effectively, bringing it down on Allen's chest and forcing out all of the air.

"I don't know what you are finding so amusing. Somehow you managed to erase any record of military service from your personal records. No man without any kind of training stays silent after the same interrogation you've been through. You understand that your resilience is all the evidence I need to keep you here." "Assume what you will, but when I get out of here, I will kill you Olrik." Olrik laughed, not an arrogant one as he had been doing, but an outright chortle as if Allen had told the funniest joke in the galaxy. "I haven't heard a good one like that in ages. For that I won't simply execute you outright! But, defiance must still be punished and I have other prisoners who I think will be more forthcoming. I think I'll just let the interrogation droid entertain you for a while. Guard, run interrogator program Olrik-Omega-Five and holo-record the session, we'll make an example of this one."

Cell Block 22, Maximum Security Wing, Oakland Imperial Prison

Allen was tossed into the cell like garbage, his bones barely holding up his ravaged frame. The cell was completely dark with only a bit of illumination near the toilet. Allen noticed that he was now in a standard prison uniform and there was a tight fitting collar around his neck with tubes going from the collar into his skin. A guard banged on the door. "Listen prisoner, I'm only going to tell you once. The collar on your neck is operated by remote. There are remote sensors around the perimeter of the base and remotes are given to every guard on base. "What, do I get another shock if I try to escape?" "You could only hope for that, within the collar is a very potent neurotoxin, designed to bring about an incredibly painful and slow death. The shock collars are for the standard inmates. Colonel Olrik has informed all of the guards about you, so don't think you can deceive us." "Okay, but one question, when do we get to do arts and crafts because I was so hoping to jam a knitting needle into the good colonel's eye."

The guard left and Allen sat in the dim light. He had been through so much and somehow he had lived. The thought of wasting away in an Imperial prison however was unbearable. At that moment something in his mind clicked off. He had almost been brought to tears; now he just stood up and stared at the door, then back over at the sleeping platform. The only way he would survive this place was if he could become strong. He was in a terrible isolation designed to weaken him physically and mentally and he knew he would have to respond. He then remembered something he had learned from the history texts. "Sometimes you have to fight for your freedom. Even when the odds are against you and the only alternative to winning is certain death."

He fumbled at the tubes into his neck. Undoubtedly the device would react if he simply pulled the tubes out. He also figured that he was being watched also, even if he did remove the collar he would probably be swarmed by the guards the moment he did. This place might even rival Rura Pente as the most unforgiving penitentiary there was. There would be a way out though. But he would have to be ready, any opportunity would not be open for long and he would have to act fast to exploit it.

The Shining Blue Gem Restaurant, Seattle, 2000 hours Earth Pacific Standard Time.

"The rebels had the audacity to come at us in Y-wings!" Nitram laughed as he recalled one of his war stories. "Once we saw those things coming at us I knew that I would have plenty more kills. The interceptors we were flying just raced past the rebels and all we had to do was swing around and chew them away from behind." Cyran took a draw from his glass of wine and laughed. "You fighter pilots have more ego than Kessel has spice. Even a kowakian howler monkey could out fly a Y-wing in a TIE interceptor. If you ladies want a war story let me tell you about the time when my ship was ambushed. We were patrolling the outer rim when this pair of Frigates comes out of hyperspace, sheer chance that we were in the same system."

"Gentlemen, forgive me for interrupting but I must ask if you require more drinks." Allen said. "Oh by all means boy, and have the chef prepare two orders of that local dish we enjoy so much, Nitram what was that called?" "I think you mean lobster sir, and don't forget the melted butter." "Yes," Cyran remarked "this butter is most fantastic compared to the stuff back home." Allen bowed slightly, "I'm glad you enjoy it sir. In the meantime though is there anything your escorts might require?" Nitram laughed, "They only require more drink, and stronger drink if you have it." "I'll see what I can do sir.

Allen went back into the kitchen and gave the order to Therese. Trina moved over to him and pulled him just out of earshot of the kitchen guard, who was distracted by a plate of appetizers Trina had set near him. The smell was enticing but to sit and eat would be dereliction of duty, a capital offense. "Allen, you didn't have to." "It's okay, if I hadn't all three of us would be in trouble. Besides, what you were saying earlier made me think. Once the Imperials leave I'll tell you about what happened to me after Las Vegas." "Well, mom is preparing the main course, just take them their drinks and tell me when you come back." "It's important, after Las Vegas I was captured and put in an Imperial Prison. I'm a fugitive, and if those guys figure that out you and your mother will both be dead. The only reason you haven't heard anything from the news about it is because I personally insulted the prison's commander on the way out. His reputation would be damaged if anyone else heard of it, I'm telling you because I want you to be safe."

as you can see i've begun implementing some SDNet users as characters. I'd thank everyone who has given positive feedback and to those who have allowed me to use their namesake in the story.

Comments and critque on Epsiode III are much obliged as always, also if anyone wants to participate as an Imperial officer they may do so by sending me a message or an email to the_99th_red_balloon@hotmail.com

Enjoy

Damnit Graden Gnome, Star Crossed doesn't need mre publicity and you go and bump the comments up? I am forced to retaliate by bumping my own fic with a promo for Episode 4

IT WILL KICK ASS or maybe it won't

Darth Fanboy wrote:Damnit Graden Gnome, Star Crossed doesn't need mre publicity and you go and bump the comments up? I am forced to retaliate by bumping my own fic with a promo for Episode 4

IT WILL KICK ASS or maybe it won't

Fine, fine, I'll read yours. But I won't like it! Or maybe I will, either way I'll tell what I think of it later, prolly tomarrow, 'cause I don't feel like straining my eyes at this hour. Sooooo

YES! Thank you, I take it from my long lost uncle the used car salesman who I never knew.

You know, its nto bad. I kind alike the way you jump around int he timeline. Keeps me in the dark about a certain part of the story, and then BOOM! A revalation that forever changes the story. Plus I like the way you show all of the grief-stricken Feddy officers. Anyways, keep up the excellent work, I look forward to the next chapter.

Good story, a bit jumpy at times, I got confused a few times. All in all it's got a good and original plot, I think it will do well if you do it right.



[cheap plug]Please read my story, Last Stars of the Night, no...it isn't a fanfic. But I've gotten some good reports about it and I would like some people to read it and POST on it. Thank you.[/cheap plug]

Episode IV: Rebel's Reunion

Shining Blue Gem Restaurant, 2100 hours earth Pacific Standard Time

"Your lobster gentlemen, with extra butter and all of the side dishes on separate plates as you requested." Cyran grinned and nudged his female companion to the side. "Splendid, it's just as I remember it! Nitram, remind me next week to bring the galley officer down here so he can take some lessons." Nitram nodded and fumbled with the claw crackers. "Waiter, have the chef prepare an assortment of desserts for travel, we need to return to our ship soon." "Of course sir."

Allen moved towards the back, Trina had gone home to prepare a guest room but Therese was still in the kitchen, her head buried in her hands. "Excuse me ma'am, but our guests have ordered some..." Therese pointed towards the counter, a platter of pastries and sweets had already been prepared and some carrying containers sat out next to them. "I see, thank you ma'am." "When you are done serving the desserts, we need to talk. Regarding my daughter." "You don't need to worry, I'll be gone as soon as I have finished here and the Imperials have left. I meant no trouble." "Serve the desserts, explain later."

Allen did as he was told; taking the desserts and handing them to one of the women accompanying the officers back up to their Star Destroyer in Earth's orbit. The bill was paid in Imperial credits and as Therese had warned earlier, there was no tip. Allen expected as such. He went to the kitchen again where the middle-aged woman was busy scrubbing a few dishes and preparing things for when normal business resumed the next day. "Listen, I was a Starfleet officer for over ten years. I respect what you want to do against the Empire as much as anyone on this forsaken planet. I'll give you some food, and a spare phaser I've kept at my bedside ever since my husband was killed. But I don't want you dragging my daughter into this." "Like I said that was never my..." "Your intent? Yes you've said that enough already, it isn't your intent I'm worried about." Therese sighed heavily.

"My daughter told me about how you helped her back in San Francisco, and moments before she left she mentioned something about you and an Imperial Prison. Hen she spoke about you, I saw the same fire in her eyes that I saw in her father. You want to know how he earned the Captain's position on the Katella? During the Battle of Cardassia Prime he took over the ship when the captain had been killed. You might have heard otherwise but the Dominion ships were pounding the allied ships. He took the Katella and began drawing fire from the enemy ships, to help save the crewmen aboard those ships. When the Cardassians revolted and the Dominion began attacking the planet he plunged the ship into the fray to try and keep more Jem Hadar from slaughtering innocents. Trina sees the same sort of qualities in you."

Allen nodded solemnly, "From what I hear I could never be half the man he was though. Your daughter is just grateful that's all. " "No that isn't all, because ever since we heard that the Katella was destroyed with all hands aboard she has been vehemently anti-imperial. I'm afraid she is just looking for an excuse to join the underground." Allen suddenly became more interested. "Is there a resistance cell nearby?" Therese nodded, it isn't very extensive, but they have been building up silently. I will tell you where it is if you promise never to see my daughter again." Allen accepted, it should have been the easiest deal to make, but the strings tugging at his heart made it very difficult. "Tell her I had no choice, that I had to protect her from whatever might be following me."

Downtown Seattle, hours later

"Interesting how the lady claims to have been retired for years and yet she seems to be quite in the know about local resistance." Allen's thoughts raced through his head, he was finally back on track to begin challenging the Empire again. The location he was given was a hospital in the downtown area. The hospital was currently acting as both a medical facility and a shelter for those who had lost their homes and had their lives ruined since the Imperial government was set up. The Empire left it alone save for the occasional shakedown by soldiers looking to round up political dissenters.

The lobby was depressing; people huddled in all corners under blankets trying to keep warm. Fearful humans wary of anyone who came close to what little possessions they had and fearful of those who demonstrated any sort of strength. Allen pushed a grimy young kid away from his satchel and accessed a terminal towards the front. The room registered to "Truman Fedder" was on the sixth floor of the building, in the extensive care ward. "Truman Fedder" was a pseudonym used by the resistance to lead others to the meeting. Anyone who knew Truman Fedder knew that it meant haven for the rebellion. On a more interesting note, "Truman" was the first name of the captain of the USS Katella. Therese Adair was far more active in this rebellion than she was willing to let on.

Allen went up the turbo lift to the sixth floor. It was almost deserted, except for a few doctors taking a much-needed rest from the endless supply of patients. Allen walked to the room and found it empty. "It figures, the old woman was probably just trying to get me away from her daughter, how could I be such a fool to think she was actually participating in the resistance." From behind, a doctor in a white coat stained red with blood. "Therese sent you didn't she. She always sends her recruits up here." Allen went for the phaser in his satchel. "You won't need that weapon young man, just go down to basement level three and show them this," the old man handed Allen a paper note with a scribbled statement that Allen could hardly read. "It isn't supposed to be legible, it shows lets them know I confirmed you."

By the time Allen got there, there was a small crowd of nearly twenty people. Something about this group was different from the one in San Francisco though. Immediately the group raised weapons at Allen. Some carried phasers, some had scavenged Imperial blasters, and some used archaic projectile weapons possibly salvaged from museum collections. Allen didn't flinch, he simply held up the note. The group lowered their weapons and resumed what they were doing.

A man wearing a dark leather jacket and sunglasses stood over a chalk outline drawing of the North American continent, which was in the center of the room. "Imperial activity in the regional centers has increased dramatically. Since the fall of Romulus the Empire has been able to devote more resources towards pacification. Moff Wong has brought in reinforcements for the capital in New York and for the Weapons Design facility in Toronto. Seeing as how all resistance in the Northeast has been wiped out, it is the perfect location for his projects. He can now keep them protected from all threats while being able to keep a close eye on the development." Another man stood up wearing a similar outfit, his hair was slightly longer and here was a large scar running down his face. "Our contacts in Asia and Africa have been silent for some time now but we have recently received word from Europe. Details are sketchy but it appears that a biological weapons project on the Iberian Peninsula went awry. Before we could receive further word the transmission was cut off. Can anyone corroborate this report?"

Allen kept focused on the dialogue. Evidence regarding the bio weapon project pointed to its truthfulness. An Imperial transmission had been intercepted and decoded, the VSD Hadoken had been ordered to conduct a sterilization of the peninsula a few days ago. Allen cringed to think that he had actually served drinks to the commander who carried out that order. "New guy, what about you any sort of information you can give us? " Allen sat for a bit to collect his thoughts; Trina was already fading out of his mind. "I just came up from San Francisco recently, the resistance there has been smashed thanks to the incompetence of a few overconfident ensigns." The longhaired man in the front nodded. "Typical, this sort of thing happened all the time in the first month. Survivors spying on installations and not making sure they weren't followed. Imperial intelligence has been laying out bait everywhere in the form of weakly defended convoys. They've also begun limiting the flow of information; even their propaganda has been cut back. That bitch Janeway is going to pay." That caught Allen's attention, now he knew she was really alive.

As the group dispersed Allen figured he would go find a comfortable place to sleep for the night up in the hospital. He was stopped though by two men with blaster pistols. The longhaired man from the front walked across the chalk map. "It's been awhile Mark, you are Mark Allen right?" Allen's jaw nearly dropped. "I remember you! You're Alyeska!" Alyeska nodded, "It's definitely been a while. Not since we blasted our way out of the Oakland prison on that stolen shuttle." "I've been meaning to thank you all along but it's just that, well..." Alyeska let out a deep chuckle. "You think I was going to let those TIE Fighters take me down? Sorry you think so little of me. Allen was nearly ecstatic for the first time in months. "Where'd you pick up the scar if it was so simple then?" Alyeska rubbed his hand against his face, "I'd like to say it was part of the plan, but I picked this baby up after freeing myself from prison." Allen laughed again, "I thought that prison was nothing more than a pile of rubble now." "Okay, so maybe it wasn't quite prison but I did get away.

Oakland Imperial Garrison, Custodial Storage

"Just when you think the Imperials had droids for about everything, to hell with I've got what I need." Alyeska allowed himself that much free thought. His sources had told him that several key prisoners where being held in the Oakland prison led by Colonel Olrik, the Harbinger of Doom himself. During his research regarding the new installation he learned several critical things that could get him in and out of the base.

The base was constructed largely of prefabricated buildings, meaning that their layouts would be simple and not unlike previous facilities Alyeska had infiltrated. Second, the usual assortment of janitor droids and automated equipment had not been installed yet since the supply lines to the Empire's home galaxy were still stretched awfully far to accommodate such non-military items. That would mean more human personnel, and the more humans on the job the more likelihood for human error. Oakland's airfield was home to several shuttles that could be commandeered for an escape, with at least one kept hot and ready at all times for Colonel Olrik.

All he had to do was get the job at the prison, figure out how to get the prisoners he needed out, then escape with them in Olrik's shuttle. It sounded simple, but then again so did a lot of things that seemed to go wrong. Alyeska had enlisted to begin his career and during the Dominion war he received battlefield promotion after promotion until he had become one of few enlisted men to reach an officer's ranking in many years. Unfortunately that rank came with more insignia than it did respect, his efforts to improve Starfleet's military failed utterly. Increased production of tactical fighters, planetary-rated shields, and infantry uniforms more suited for ground combat, all were ignored due to a lack of academy training. Alyeska didn't want to say "I told you so," and even if he did there was no one left to say it to anymore.

He was on the ground when the attack happened, test flying a new type of tactical fighter and petitioning on its behalf. The fighter would have been used with Akira class ships to augment fleets all over the quadrant. Of course, it ended up being used as little more than an extravagant escape vehicle. As much as he wanted to pit his new fighter against the Imperial TIE series he didn't think it was worth going up against odds of at least a hundred to one.

The cleaning solutions were gathered and the mixture added to the auto cleanser, a simple push driven cart with a simple mechanical spreader that squeegeed the floor, and the ersatz janitor took one deep breath, he had been planning for so long, and thought of every possible scenario and contingency. Even as he moved through the corridor to the maximum-security wing, Alyeska drove his brain into overtime. Was there something he had overlooked? A simple detail, one wrong calculation, a dumb mistake could ruin everything.

It had to be now though; Olrik had diverted a significant amount of security to provide added security for some VIPs. Apparently Olrik thought his time behind a desk should be rewarded with a promotion to General. That reduced the amount of sentries by nearly 25%. Olrik might be a clever tactician and a great commander, but he was a horrible personnel director. One last check of the equipment he had smuggled in. The Jem'Hadar personal cloak he claimed for his own during the war would fool the cameras enough so that the guards behind them wouldn't notice much. The hypo-spray with sleep inducing chemicals to neutralize a guard and get his blaster, and last but not least, the emergency transport unit. Alyeska had only been able to find one but if anything bad happened to him, at least he had a slight chance.

After his regular rounds he docked the cleaning unit back in the closet and closed the door behind him. It was then he activated the cloak. He had about ten minutes to find an Imperial sentry, knock him out, and then steal a blaster and a control remote to deactivate the security collars and doors. He then estimated that he had about fifteen minutes to make it to the shuttle before it was locked down and TIE Fighters went airborne.

Cell Block 22, Maximum Security Wing, Oakland Imperial Prison

Allen had no idea of what was going on around him; it was almost driving him crazy. Fortunately he had his new hobby to keep him busy. A rage built up within him and he practiced his martial arts. One of the benefits of Academy training was access to the holographic training facilities. Allen had decided on focusing on his martial arts, in recent conflicts federation soldiers had fought against enemies proficient in hand to hand combat. Allen had trained in a series of martial arts programs from judo to taekwando. One day he had come across an archaic file that hadn't been used in many years. The program was titled "Jeet Kune Do." An ancient Earth master named Bruce Lee was simulated in the training. It had taken a while for Allen to learn and a few instructors had teased him or using such a program. He had learned every move the program had, and he used the exercises from time to time in order to focus his mind.

"Better to focus this hate, and use it, rather than let it consume me." Allen dreamed that one day he would be able to kick the cell door down. It was an idea he entertained, even though both of his previous attempts had failed horribly. Today's session had gone on long enough for him though. The monotony was starting to wear him down. Olrik had recently offered to move him to standard security if he would reveal more information. Allen had declined, but the offer was growing tempting.

Suddenly the monotony was shot, the sound of blaster fire poured into the hallway behind the door that sealed him. He heard a scream from one of the guards who had made a daily habit of tormenting him. "IT'S A BREAK, THE PRISONERS ARE ATTEMPTING TO ESCAPE!" Allen, tired as he was, rose from the cot and lined up at the door. His mind racing "If determination was all it took to bring down this door, I'd have done it by now. But now I've got one more weapon on my side..." The thought finished just before he launched himself at the thick prison door. "True motivation!"

Alyeska cursed to himself. He didn't count on the sentries bringing in a heavy repeater. The e-web was set up in front of one of the cells and it was pouring enough fire into the hallway to kill anyone who couldn't get to cover. He had just opened the first cell and told the prisoner to wait until he cleared the area. The fool, a federation dignitary by the name of Anderson, foolishly took off into the hallway, shoving Alyeska aside and knocking the control unit into the hall as well. Anderson ran right into the path of the blaster and was rewarded by having blaster bolts from sentries burn through his spinal cord and sear through the flesh in font. Alyeska dove into the cell, "The damned fool! I can't free anyone without that remote and there is too much interference in the prison for me to beam out. Looks like its time for my last stand."

Suddenly the door next to the E-web burst open and crushed the weapon and its user against the opposite wall. A man walked out and grabbed a stormtrooper by the neck and turned it nearly 180 degrees. Alyeska took the opportunity and gunned down a third. "Come on! This our chance I know the way out!" Allen nodded and followed, picking up a blaster rifle on the way out. Ayleska saw the remote laying on the floor, he picked it up and deactivated the collar on the man's neck. Alyeska had come to save a bunch of political prisoners, and he was leaving with a new ally who might be able to strike a blow against the Empire, and for once he thought that the mission might succeed after all.

Blasters sending their deadly energy flared to life as Alyeska and Allen were pinned down by a group of stormtroopers responding to the commotion. "I don't suppose you brought a phaser we could overload and throw at them?" Allen quipped. "You must be fresh from the academy survival courses. You know in more efficient militaries they have these things called "explosives" and "grenades" for these sorts of situations. Overloading a phaser is a waste of a sidearm. Come on kid we've got about four minutes before they scramble fighters and cut off our escape route. Take this." Allen looked at the small round object inquisitively. "What the hell is it?" Alyeska grinned, an edge of viciousness creeping into his smile. "It's called a thermal detonator, I pulled it off one of the troopers we smoked on the way here. Twist the top and throw it as far behind you as you can." "Aren't the enemies in front of us?" "Trust me, I'll lay down some suppressing fire, but make sure they see that you have it before you throw it. I predict our path will clear right up."

The rebels were cooped up in the hallway, and they were outnumbered six to one. "They're bound to run out of ammo soon men, it's only a matter of time." The commander announced over the comlink. "Press the attack and move in." One of them jumped out from behind the opened door providing him cover and began spraying blaster fire. "A waste of ammunition" thought Trooper OC-11151982. "He'll run out ammunition before he gets any of us." Suddenly, out of the corner of his helmet's visor the other rebel was holding out a small metal object, he twisted the top and threw it in the direction they had come from. "THERMAL DETONATOR!" he yelled over the squad frequency.

Just like Alyeska said, the Imperials were running. The two had just reached the hangar when the entire building went up. Alyeska looked back, "Those prisoners won't talk now, it's just as well, the Empire would have just killed them anyway." Allen didn't look back. "You're right. Now where's the shuttle." "You seem eager to leave; all right then, that one over there. I think we scared off or killed the guards already. Olrik really understaffed the prison staff to provide security for his VIP meeting tonight. "Really now. That bastard humiliated me enough as it is. Just one thing, how are we going to fly it out?" "We don't, Olrik keeps his shuttle juiced at all times in case he has to attend to personal business. There's got to be a pilot around here somewhere." Allen bolted for the shuttle and yelled back, "Yeah and he's probably getting into his fighter right now. Get in I've got an idea!"

Allen climbed into the control seat and picked up what he hoped was a communication unit. "This is shuttle hangar to any on duty shuttle pilot! The prison is under attack! Visiting VIPs inspecting the prison including the Colonel himself are going to need evacuating!" Alyeska and Allen sat in the back, within a minute a shuttle pilot was on board and beginning the takeoff sequence. "What sort of course should I lay in sir?" The pilot nervously squeaked out. Alyeska spoke in a low voice and placed the end of the blaster against the pilot's head. "Set a course north of here now and raise shields, or your brain will be piloting from all over the forward window."

The shuttle lifted off of the ground and took off. Allen, almost completely out of breath looked over at his savior, "By the way, thanks." Alyeska sat in the copilot's seat, "We aren't out of the woods yet. Those stormtroopers made us late, About twenty TIE Fighters are already in pursuit and this ship has no way of surviving long against that, and as much as I'd like to avoid it I have to go with my final contingency. Albeit slightly modified." The tired fighter looked over at the scared pilot, "Drop the shields on this bird." "Are you joking? Those fighters are going to chew us?" Alyeska shot the pilot in the neck. "I don't want him screwing this up, well kid it's been real." Alyeska walked toward Allen and extended his hand and Allen reciprocated the handshake. Suddenly his vision blurred and he felt odd, a few seconds later he was on stable ground and completely confused as to where he was.

Allen looked into the palm of his hand. A small unit he recognized as an emergency transporter sat affixed to his hand by a small adhesive. He didn't recognize exactly where he was. It was an undeveloped area and the sound of roaring engines and blazing laser fire were nowhere to be heard. From the bushes a man walked toward him. "Where is Alyeska? Didn't he make it out?" Allen closed his fist around the transporter unit. "I'm sorry, I'm the only one left." The mysterious man was obviously disappointed. "I see. We all knew the mission was a risk but we held out hope. Maybe hope is a stupid thing to have in these days." Allen looked up at the sky, "It's not hope you have to let go of, if there's one thing I've learned today, the thing you have to let go of, it's your fear."

The shuttle was getting chewed to pieces by green fire. Alyeska had finally figured out how to bring the shields back up and he breathed a sigh of relief thinking he had just spared himself a few seconds. Quickly, he changed his outfit with that of the Imperial pilot and got on the communicator. "This is the pilot of shuttlecraft Olrik I, I have overpowered one of the rebels but his partner used one of those transporters of theirs to escape when I tried to lower the shields for you. I think the landing gear is damaged and controls are barely responding, can you assist?" Over the frequency one of the TIE pilots responded. "This is TIE Fighter Black Five, normally I'd tell you to space off but Olrik will be furious if we lose that shuttle. Aerial rescue crew is on the way just keep the yoke stable." The dead pilot was dressed in the old clothes of the man who killed him, then thrown in the back. All he had to do was keep the ship stead. He'd figure out some way to escape afterwards.

Olrik surveyed the damage, not just to the facility but to his reputation. Maximillian Veers himself was in attendance at this gathering and word of this humiliation could reach Grand Admiral Thrawn or even Lord Vader himself! Olrik would have to handle this himself, silently and effectively before word of his failure could reach the upper echelons of the military. One of Olrik's aides handed him a brief description of the damage's extent. Even his prized shuttle had been ruined and the rebel who had stolen it killed three troopers and escaped after the shuttle had been landed forcibly, but still intact. "Is there anything else I can do for you Colonel?" Olrik narrowed his gaze, trying to will his prison back into existence. "Yes, get me Falkenhorst, now."

I'll finish Episode IV fairly soon, the upcoming portion of Ep IV will feature the Alyeska character as the focal character rather than Mark Allen.

Some people have asked me about the plot. So far it is set up so each epsidoe tells two different stories. One part takes place in the timeline's presen't while the second part takes place in the not too distant past. I really like writing the story this way because I am not stuck in the monotony of writing one storyline, Its like writing two stories at once with each of them connecting at some point.

Look forward to episode IV being finished by monday and Episode V being finished within a week or so after that.

I was wondering if you thought an Orbital Bombardment from a VSD would be worthy of the term "hadoken".

Damn, this story rules. If you put me in there, have me be an Imperial Intel officer who cares nothing for politics or personal vendettas, and is just trying to do his duty for the empire he loves.

Episode IV is now finished, just go back a few posts to read (or reread) the latest Episode in the Planet of Dying Dreams saga! Falkenhorst i'm always glad to oblige what fans I have and I hope the last few lines of the chapter give you reason to keep reading.

Darth Fanboy wrote:I was wondering if you thought an Orbital Bombardment from a VSD would be worthy of the term "hadoken".

It's as close as they can get. Question, am I one of the main bad guys or just one of those minor ones that don't do much?

The fate and future adventures of captain Cyran have not ended that's for sure

I try and make it so most every character has an impact on the plot and Captain Cyran and Cmmdr Nitram will be seen again. If they play their cards with their commanding officers right then the Hadoken won't be a mere VSD next we see them

I've decided that the first five episodes to PoDD will become the first in a series of sagas. The first Five Epsiodes will be known as "Escape from San Francisco". As I have said earlier, V will be done before this coming monday.

I'm wondering though wether or not some short side stories from the same timeline would be interesting, I have a few ideas salvaged and scavenged from my previous fanfics and a few new ones. I might do one or two of these and they wouldn't be much longer than an episode or so.

"Battle of Q'onos" would be a story focusing on the bloodiest battle of the Imperial/Alpha Quadrant War.

"Battle of Earth" would chronicle the first, and most important battle of the Imperial blitzkrieg that tore down the Federation in nearly a day.

"Pride of Ferenginar" is a story salvaged from another story I wrote a while ago. Rom is caught supplying the Starfleet rebels with war material using his son as an intermediary and Darth Vader's Death Squadron is deployed to make an example of the Ferengi.

"ISD Resilent" is about an Imperial Star Destroyer assigned to a remote setor of the new territories that suddenly becomes besieged by a Borg Force. Hyperdrive failure prevents escape and the aptly named Resilent is forced to fend off against swarms of Borg attackers.

"Starfleet's Last Stand" The final battle of the Enterprise E and the culminating battle of the Imperial/Federation conflict.

"Playing for Time" the Romulan Star Empire has been targeted for destruction by the Galactic Empire. Following the massacre of the Klingons at Q'o'nos the Romulans are determined to hold of the Empire long enough to evacuate the entire population to hidden worlds meant as a fallback in case the Dominion had been victorious. The Evac plans require 1 week.



I want to do one of these short side stories in between sagas, Escape From San Francisco has been fun to write and the people that have told me they enjoyed reading it have been a good motivator. But I need to relax my brain awhile ya?