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

The Dahar master's first thoughts on the interior of an Imperial Star Destroyer was that it was cold and mechanical. Everywhere he looked, there was only dark-finished metal, broken by glowing lights, glittering control panels, harshly-lit displays, and flushed access panels. The same went for the Coruscanti Humans themselves, the officers in grey or white, and the rank-and-file in black.

Paradoxically, though, it wasn't soulless. On the contrary, an air of purpose permeated the ship's interior, men and women alike coming and going with crisp movements as they went on about their duties. This was especially apparent with the white-armored soldiers – Stormtroopers, that's what they were called – either standing guard at important areas, or patrolling the decks, as well as escorting Akiz and his fellow Klingons to the ship's bridge.

In short, the ship was very Human when all was said and done.

It just wasn't very…Federation.

Not that Akiz had any problems with that. If anything, it was all very refreshing, and together with the devastation the Coruscanti had wreaked against the Federation in the war thus far, painted a very impressive picture of what Humans were truly like when they were at war.

A worthy ally, at least in the short-term, to wreak vengeance on the impious and dishonorable Federation. And in the long-term, a worthy opponent…

…yes, if the Klingons were to fall, they should fall only against an overwhelming foe, their last war cries echoing defiant in glorious defeat across the pages of history. Not for them the slow death the Federation and its cowardly leaders had planned, the Klingons losing who and what they were to become just another set of forgettable threads in the bland and ignominious tapestry of mediocrity that was the Federation's vision of the future.

But those were thoughts for another time. Heavy blast doors hissed open to allow access to the bridge, the Klingons seeing a raised walkway going past sunken pits where officers and crew manned stations towards a set of windows that looked out into the depths of space. The rank-and-file ignored the Klingons newly-arrived on the bridge, while the officers gave only quick looks before returning to their duties.

Then the Klingons turned away, led elsewhere by their escorts, and Akiz was once again impressed. Had they been meeting with the Federation, there would no doubt be hours of long-winded speeches, formal dinners filled with nonsense, double-dealing, and serpent-tongued conversation, and by the end of it all, the Klingons bored into acquiescing to some agreement somehow worth even less than what it would be printed on.

The Coruscanti – the Imperials – had none of that. Or at least, their diplomats were dealing with that elsewhere, with matters of war – and more importantly, vengeance – to be decided by those actually qualified for it.

"Welcome, Dahar Master Mvonnek." Admiral Jaenera Targaryen said with a curt nod, violet eyes hard and cold like jewels as she regarded Akiz from across a glowing map table. "I understand you and your allies are here on your own initiative, independent of the Klingon Empire. Or am I wrong?"

"You are not." Akiz said. "And it matters not that the Klingon Empire has decided to drag its feet on its involvement in this conflict. By the time Martok has finished knocking heads together and secured his power base, this conflict will be over. The chance for vengeance will be lost. That cannot be allowed to stand."

Targaryen smirked. "Yes…" she mused aloud. "…I have read about your people's culture…your laws and customs, when it comes to this war. Or rather, the century you spent imprisoned in Tartarus thanks to those Section 31 dogs…you and yours claim the Right of Vengeance, something even your leaders cannot deny you, lest they dishonor themselves in the eyes of your entire people, and thus prove themselves unworthy of the power they wield."

"So we do." Akiz said before baring his own fangs. "Will the Empire deny it to us?"

"This is our war." Targaryen immediately said. "You may have your vengeance, but I'll have you follow my strategy in pursuit of total victory. This is not negotiable."

Akiz's companions stirred and muttered at being dictated to by a Human, but Akiz himself just met Targaryen's eyes. For several moments, Klingon and Human matched their wills, then Akiz threw back his head and laughed. "Were it any other," he began. "I would spit on your words and force them back down your throat. But you have since proven yourself, and your strategy as something worth following. Very well, I accept your condition, and look forward to claiming blood owed as part of it."

"You will have your chance." Targaryen said, pressing icons on the table controls, and bringing up the map's details. "Even as we speak, the Federation assembles its remaining fleets at Kharzh'ulla. No doubt, they plan to use its vast resources and industrial capacity to support the continued conflict."

"And with that support," Akiz remarked while looking at the map. "Their fleets can threaten any advance towards Betazed and Bolarus IX, among other systems on the far side of the quadrant. Or for that matter, contest Tellar against any advance from Sol and other occupied systems."

"Indeed." Targaryen said. "Kharzh'ulla must be reduced before any decisive advance can be made past the Tellerite Sector. Even more so, considering Kharzh'ulla has now become the Federation's wartime capital, with Earth under Imperial capital."

Akiz chuckled. "Plotting to force the Federation President to kneel before your Emperor, Admiral Targaryen?" he asked. "You are dastardly."

"This is war." Targaryen remarked. "It is not a game. There is no point in fighting unless it ends in total victory."

"There is no greater honor than victory." Akiz sagely said. "And? What role do you see for us to play in this stage of your campaign?"

"Just because we cannot decisively advance past the Tellerite Sector until Kharzh'ulla is reduced it does not mean we cannot act past it." Targaryen said. "Operations White and Typhoon prove that much."

"Indeed." Akiz said with a wolfish grin. There was nothing else to say, the simple yet brutally effective onslaught that was White and Typhoon spoke for themselves.

"Typhoon, however," Targaryen continued. "Has met an unexpected setback. We can destroy starbases, antimatter production plants and storage facilities, and other similar facilities at ease. Even more so for simple subspace relays. That said, the Federation – or rather, Starfleet – has a habit of simply fleeing into warp where we cannot fight them even as they launch pinprick attacks against us."

"Ah…so that's how it is…" Akiz said with an understanding nod. "…since you use…hyperdrive, instead of warp, you cannot fight vessels in warp…but we can. Is that what you want us to do? To chase after those Starfleet curs, like dogs sniffing at a trail?"

"No," Targaryen said, meeting Akiz's eyes. "I want you to hunt them down and kill them in proper battle."

"A proper battle they will not give you," Akiz said with a fanged grin. "But one we can have."

"Yes."

Akiz's smile widened. "It will be a good day to die." He said, and Targaryen smiled back, before she brought up tactical data across the entire quadrant, more than enough to get Akiz started on his 'hunt'.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"I still think we're taking something of a risk by involving the Klingons in this campaign." Torrhen remarked while standing next to me and watching the Klingon ships leave in the distance through the bridge windows.

"Agreed," I said with a nod before narrowing my eyes. "But, Imperial Intelligence strongly suggests the Klingons – or at least those Dahar masters we freed from Tartarus – would have waded in regardless, to claim blood for Section 31 and the Federation's misdeeds. We'd have been forced to confront them in addition to prosecuting the war against the Federation, and which would also lead to…unpredictable, complications further down the road."

Torrhen sighed. "At least this way we can keep them on something of a leash," he remarked. "And get something out of it by directing them to those Starfleet vessels running around and attacking like insects while at warp."

"Don't forget some leeway with the Klingons." I added. "Oh, I fully expect there will be a confrontation between us and the Empire in the future, but at least this way, we have more control when and where it happens. That could be very important when it comes to seizing the initiative."

"I see your point, admiral." Torrhen said before giving another sigh. "However, as your chief of staff, it's my duty to voice these concerns."

"So you do." I said with a nod. "In any case, we'll keep an eye on the Klingons. That, and while they're free to run around shooting up Starfleet vessels at warp, and will be resupplied at our expense, under no circumstances will they be getting any planets out of this."

"That might result in complications especially with the Romulans having occupied the Neutral Zone." Torrhen said.

"The Romulans occupied unfortified and even unsettled frontier territories." I said while turning back to the map table. "The loss of those worlds is a trifle, and which we can always get back in a future war. The Klingons, though, will be operating deep in the so-called Alpha Quadrant, in what will become part of the Empire's New Territories. We cannot allow a foreign power to have enclaves inside our space, and if they cannot understand that, well…"

I trailed off, but Torrhen nodded in agreement. "We'll have to take those worlds back if that's the case," he said. "And although it means an early confrontation with the Klingons, we'd still have the initiative in such a scenario."

I smiled at my chief of staff. "Let's not get too far ahead," I said. "And play at another war while we're still fighting this war. Let's win this war first, and then we'll see."

"Understood, admiral." Torrhen said with a small bow.

I nodded and looked down at the map table, zoomed in on the Tellar Star System. "The Fifth and Thirteenth Battlegroups should be arriving at Tellar Prime shortly." I mused. "One way or another, that world will be our bridgehead for an assault on Kharzh'ulla. And from there, the door will be open for a decisive advance on Betazed, Bolarus IX, and ultimately, Bajor itself."

Sara took the opportunity to cough. "Speaking of advances," she began. "I must remind you, admirals, of other territorial breaches in the Beta Quadrant. The Tholians are menacing the Icor and Iadara Sectors, the latter of which has also reported incursions from the Sheliak Corporate."

"And with Starfleet unable to respond," I said. "It falls to us to take action."

"Task Forces Seeker I, II, and III are ready to deploy at your command, admiral." Torrhen said.

I nodded. "Very good, then." I said. "Give the word. The Empire doesn't abandon its worlds. If these…Tholians, and Sheliak think they can have worlds we've laid claim to without a fight, they're in for a rude awakening."

"I'll have deploy within the hour, admiral." Torrhen said, snapping a salute and striding off to issue the necessary orders. I nodded, and then focused back at the hologram of the interstellar theater.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Several hours later, and Vice Admiral Natasi Daala of the newly-formed Thirteenth Battlegroup was conferring with a hologram of Vice Admiral Tye of the Fifth Battlegroup. The two of them formed the Imperial vanguard, tasked with advancing on Tellar Prime and, if possible, securing it as the beachhead for the Imperial attack on Kharzh'ulla.

"Well, this is disappointing." Daala grumbled. "The Tellarites just…surrendering without even putting up a token fight."

"I can't really blame them, though." Tye said. "Starfleet practically conscripted their entire defense force, and pulled them back to Kharzh'ulla. They've no ships left, and only police forces on the surface."

"…fair enough, I suppose." Daala conceded.

Tye smirked. "Here's something that might cheer you up." He said.

"Oh?"

"It's a copy of the Tellarite leader issuing their terms of surrender to our diplomatic team."

Daala raised an eyebrow curiously…

…a few seconds later, and her second eyebrow joined in as her eyes went wide, while her mouth similarly fell open. Nearby, the Terror's captain, along with Daala's adjutant and chief of staff weren't much better, and as the stream of profanity echoed across the Star Destroyer's bridge, other officers and even strait-laced and hard-bitten Stormtroopers turned to look at the command deck in shock.

"…how long has it been now?" Daala eventually asked in a faint tone, causing her adjutant to quickly check a chronometer.

"…over four minutes, admiral." The young man finally said.

"Wow." Daala could only say, with the reaction of the other officers on the command deck not much different. Eventually, the Tellarite leader's profanity-laden rant came to an end, and Daala rubbed her forehead, completely at a loss. "How long?"

"…six minutes, thirty-two seconds…" her adjutant faintly replied.

"And it all boiled down to the Tellarites' expecting the same starting terms offered to the Orions," Tye said with a laugh. "Plus demanding the Empire put the boot on both Starfleet and those Tellarites who ran to Kharzh'ulla and left Tellar Prime completely defenseless."

"…I don't think any drill sergeant back in officer school was that foul-mouthed." Daala remarked. The Tellarite leader's profanities had been both colorful and wide-ranging, reflecting on parentage, birth, and sexual habits of Starfleet, the Federation, and the so-called Tellarite Defense Force, all of which were holed up at Kharzh'ulla. By itself, that wasn't anything special, but to keep it for over six minutes straight?

Damn.

"Agreed." Tye said with another laugh. "Still, they're not unreasonable terms, wouldn't you say?"

"Definitely not." Daala agreed. "We were always going to crush Kharzh'ulla with an iron fist anyway, so no loss agreeing to that. As for other terms…well, I'm no diplomat, but I know enough the generalities are fine as they are. Only the details really need to be hammered out with regard to strategic and economic differences between Tellar Prime and Orion, but that's something for our diplomats to deal with."

Tye nodded. "Indeed." He said. "I'll contact Admiral Targaryen, in the meantime, I'll leave it to you to coordinate the landings."

"That should be no problem." Daala said with a nod before narrowing her eyes. "Still, we're pretty close to the frontlines here. And Starfleet has already stripped the planet of its defenses."

"What are you getting at, Daala?" Tye asked

"We could do more than deploy a Stormtrooper garrison at the planetary capital." Daala pointed out. "We could also add air defenses, and localized anti-bombardment countermeasures. Only enough to protect the capital, to be sure, but it's better than nothing. It might also help us on the political end of things."

"…good idea." Tye said after a moment. "I'll advise the admiral on our initiative, and if there's any complications from it, I'll stand with you."

"I doubt there will be," Daala said. "Considering Admiral Targaryen's record, but still, thank you."

Tye nodded, and then his hologram flickered. "Right, then," Daala said with a sigh. "Signal Colonel Beaxxon, prepare for surface deployment. And inform the combat engineering brigade of the additional fortifications they'll need to setup around the planetary capital."

"Yes, admiral." Her adjutant said, and Daala nodded.

"Very good." She said.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Elsewhere in the galaxy, specifically in the neighboring Actium Sector, five Miranda Class Starships led by an Excelsior Class Starship were cruising at Warp Four while on the hunt for Imperial raiding groups as part of Operations White and Typhoon. Their sensors were actively scouring out the surrounding light-years of space as they flew past faster than light, but tuned as they were to pick up Imperial engine signatures, they failed to pick up other engine types even as they ate up the intervening light-years.

That is not to say the Klingons wouldn't have been picked up…

…except they were cloaked, and with the Starfleet vessels specifically looking for Imperial warships, they missed the faint tachyon and even engine emissions of the Klingon Birds of Prey as they closed.

"Range?" Akiz asked as he sat on his flagship's command throne.

"Five million kellicams." The sensor officer said.

"Steady…keep at their tails…" Akiz softly but firmly said, eyes fixed on the Starfleet vessels slowly growing larger on the viewscreen. "…steady…range…"

"One million kellicams." The sensor officer replied.

"…on my mark…" Akiz slowly said. "…transfer power from cloak to weapons…gunners on all ships…destroy the smaller vessels but targets engines only on the flagship…we want prisoners to talk about Starfleet's fast raiders…range…"

"Five hundred thousand kellicams."

"Steady…steady…"

"Range…two hundred thousand kellicams…enemy shields reading as inactive…"

"…Starfleet's gotten sloppy…fighting imperials unable to shoot at them in warp…range?"

"…one hundred thousand kellicams…"

"…steady…"

"…fifty thousand kellicams…"

"…steady…"

"…ten thousand kellicams…"

"…wait…wait…"

"…five thousand kellicams…"

"…decloak, and fire!"

Reality shimmered as the Klingons decloaked, and faster than Starfleet could react unleashed a volley of torpedoes at the Mirandas. With their shields down, the old and obsolete vessels were simply torn apart, while the lone Excelsior was battered by a volley of disruptor beams that blew out the ship's primary power relays.

To Starfleet's credit, the transition to auxiliary power was seamless, keeping the ship's inertial dampeners and structural integrity fields active otherwise the Excelsior would have been torn apart as it was violently thrown out of warp. Just seconds later, and the Klingons also dropped out of warp, disruptors blazing away and blowing off the crippled starship's nacelles. Others shattered the ship's secondary power relays, leaving it a dying hulk in space.

"Prepare for boarding!" Akiz barked while getting up from his seat to leave the bridge. "Captain, you're in command! Signal the boarding teams: today is a good day to die!"

"Qapla!" Captain Orath said while retaking the command throne.

This wasn't the only such engagement taking place, of course. Dozens of similar ambushes were taking place across unoccupied Federation territory, in fact. And to their credit, Starfleet would quickly react, giving their ships a fighting chance against being jumped by cloaked vessels.

But with the Empire now within striking range of Kharzh'ulla, there was little else they could do. A protest was lodged with Chancellor Martok over what Starfleet called rogue Klingon elements fighting beside the Empire, but the chancellor himself was already under fire from the various Great Houses of the Klingon Empire for his pre-war ties with the Federation. With said rogues being led by Dahar masters illegally abducted and imprisoned by (officially rogue) Federation agents, the chancellor was left with few if any options to respond in any way the Federation could call favorable.

In the end, Starfleet could only grimly resign themselves and tighten their belts further as combat options grew even more limited, along with supplies, crew, and most importantly, ships.

 

"Admiral," Sara began. "Your household troops are here."

"They've arrived, then." I said, briefly looking up from the reports I was reviewing. "Excellent, I'll meet with them shortly. I'll just need to finish these."

"I'll inform Captain Calanyon then." Sara said with a nod.

"Make it so, lieutenant." I said.

"Yes, admiral." Sara before saluting and leaving my office.

As it was, it took several more minutes before I could leave to meet with the newly-arrived Targaryen Household Guard. The report from Ambassador Lee was especially pressing, over Earth's political future. Originally, United Earth was planned to be retained as the planetary government of Humanity's homeworld in this galaxy, but with the exposure of the Section 31 – or rather, the Majestic Twelve – conspiracy to subjugate not just Humanity but every spacefaring race under their quasi-utopian totalitarian nightmare vision of the future, those plans had been thrown out.

Both the UNAS and the provisional government of what was calling itself the European Federation had made it clear they would not simply refuse to join a restored United Earth, but outright wage war against it. Likewise for the coalition of emerging northern Chinese warlords under the leadership of the self-proclaimed Generalissimo Tai Yuan.

Speaking of which, the ISB had also delivered its own report on Tai Yuan, on how the man might try and claim the Mandate of Heaven, and with it, proclaim himself the first Emperor of China in over four hundred years.

"That can work to our advantage," I mused. "But we have to work at it with a delicate hand, and avoid looking reactionary. No…much like with the Federation and its shadow leaders in the Majestic Twelve, it's best to let our enemies destroy themselves on their own."

All that said, though, with United Earth of no further use to the Empire beyond the psychological blow of its unconditional surrender, to say nothing of the backlash after its exposure as nothing more than a front for an conspiracy of Terran ideologues and their lackeys, entire plans drawn up by the Empire to cement its grip in the New Territories after the war was over and won needed to be gone over.

"Well," I thought while heading out to meet with my family's guards. "No one said this would be easy. Besides, this might even turn out to be better, with proper management of succeeding events as they develop."

Leaving my office, Sara saluted me outside before falling into step beside me, following in my wake towards the lift. From there, it took a few minutes to reach one of the Courageous' lower decks, and a couple more minutes to reach the assigned troop areas.

The Targaryen Household Guards stood to attention at my arrival, over a hundred men and women dressed in matching blue jackets and trousers saluting with white-gloved hands. They also wore white hats, those of the officers peaked, while the enlisted and noncoms wore side caps instead.

"At ease." I said, the guardsmen standing down to parade rest. "Soldiers of House Targaryen, I thank you for the effort of coming this far, all the way from our galaxy to this galaxy, the furthest frontier of our great and glorious Galactic Empire. However, now I would ask even greater sacrifices from you, so great that I cannot deny you the truth."

I paused, slowly turning my head to meet the guardsmen's – my people's – eyes. Like me, they were all Valyrian, the product of millennia of Arkanian gene-crafting, with platinum-blonde hair and violet irises. They all met my gaze stoically, social and cultural inertia born of millennia reinforcing loyalty and duty drilled by training and years if not decades of service to my family.

"I suppose you're asking, why you?" I continued. "Why send for you all the way across the universe, when I could just have the Imperial Armed Forces handle. I do have an entire expeditionary force under my command, after all. So, why? And the answer is that this mission is too dangerous to involve the Imperial Armed Forces. Failure would, at best, tarnish if not outright destabilize the entire Galactic Empire. As such, I myself will take personal responsibility for this mission, with my family's honor and future on the line, and personally submit its outcome before His Excellency the Emperor whether in victory or defeat."

I paused and nodded. "That is why you are here," I continued. "And that is why I will not command you to go on this mission, but ask you instead. And even then, I will ask that you submit to mind-wipe after the mission is completely. Only volunteers will continue going forward, with any who refuse being allowed to return home with no stigma or mark against them going on record. Having said that, I now ask any of you who find my request on your loyalty and duty to be too much, to step forward."

No one stepped forward.

If anything, the guardsmen just straightened further and looked expectantly at me.

"There will be no going back after this." I warned. "Is that clear?"

"Permission to speak freely, ma'am?" Captain Vamyx Calanyon asked.

"Granted." I said.

"I say it'll be a good day to die." He said with a smile, and despite myself, I smiled back.

"Outstanding, captain!" I said. "Very well then…saddle up!"

Over a hundred heels clicked together in a uniform motion, along with arms swiping up in salute. "HAIL, THE EMPIRE!" the guardsmen chorused. "HAIL, TARGARYEN!"
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Elsewhere in the galaxy, the Fifth and Thirteenth Battlegroups of the Imperial Expeditionary Force were once again leading the charge in the name of the Galactic Empire.

The Thirteenth Battlegroup, in particular, had the honor of firing the first shots of the Siege of Kharzh'ulla. With forward shields at double power, Vice Admiral Natasi Daala led her fleet into the range of the planetary defenses, phaser lances and charged particle cannon hammering them from the planet's orbital.

But even as smaller vessels began to burn in space, the Imperial Fleet returned fire, turbolaser beams lancing through space. They splattered against the orbital ring's shields, distributed power sources and generator systems helping them hold against the Imperial onslaught. In response, the Imperial Fleet concentrated its fire, entire flotillas literally pounding down the shields of entire defensive sections along the orbital ring, allowing turbolasers to destroy not just the gun emplacements, launch bays, and naval docks built onto the ring, but also the adjacent void habitats.

Worse, the ring itself began to take damage, especially as fusion reactors went critical and exploded in flowers of nuclear fire. Fortunately, civilians had already been evacuated from the ring, but that didn't change the fact that if the ring collapsed, entire sections could fall to devastate the surface below. That, and it was the main line of defense for the entire planet, with which Starfleet could finally halt the Imperial advance, and hopefully rallying the local civilizations, begin pushing them back.

That hope was now being put to the test, with Starfleet's Fourth Fleet under Admiral Michael Fraser scrambling to intercept the Thirteenth Battlegroup. The plan was to charge in, making it appear as though trying to get in close and throw the battlefield into chaos, thus negating the Empire's advantages and allowing Starfleet to fight on even terms.

The Empire wasn't stupid, though, or rather Daala wasn't. She immediately pulled back, not enough to actually withdraw from the battlefield, but enough to contract her line of battle to keep Starfleet from achieving their tactical goal.

Just as planned.

"Damnation!" Daala spat on the Terror's bridge. "Starfleet's forced us into a choice. We either engage at long range, and give their faster vessels greater freedom of movement to evade our artillery fire, or close in but risk them throwing the battlefield in chaos."

"What do we do, admiral?" her adjutant asked.

Daala didn't answer at once, instead lifting a gloved hand to rub over her chin in thought. Her first instinct was to simply charge in, and despite giving the enemy what they wanted, use the Imperial Fleet's superior firepower and endurance to hammer them up close, battle of attrition be damned.

But, she was a fleet commander now, and needed to think bigger. See the wider picture as it were, and minimize losses for maximum gain.

Soldiers dying in battle was inevitable, and indeed, was both expected and normal.

No commander could succeed without facing and accepting that truth.

What mattered was that soldiers died for something…

…that, and killing more of the enemy than they killed of your forces.

"…the enemy thinks they're being clever." Daala finally said. "Signal the fleet: advance, double power to forward shields. Concentrate your fire and destroy the enemy fleet."

"Yes, admiral." Her adjutant said before relaying Daala's orders.

The Thirteenth Battlegroup adjusted its formation, reinforcing its forward shields before pressing onward, turbolasers lashing out. Again, the Fourth Fleet sallied forward in response, Daala nodding in approval. "Here they come…" she said. "…fall back, now!"

"Admiral…?" her adjutant asked in confusion.

"Do it!" Daala barked, and the man all but jumped to relay her orders.

The Thirteenth Battlegroup fell back, and a few minutes later, so did the Fourth Fleet. "Good…very good…" Daala said, emerald eyes staring intently at the tactical display. "…all ships, advance."

Once again, the Thirteenth Battlegroup advanced, and the Fourth Fleet responded in turn. Then the Thirteenth Battlegroup fell back, and the Fourth Fleet did likewise. A pattern that repeated itself for over an hour, both sides taking casualties in the process, while maintaining fleet integrity regardless.

"Status of the Fifth Battlegroup behind us?" Daala asked.

"Admiral Tye in holding position." Her adjutant replied.

"And the enemy's other fleets are likewise doing so to our flanks and over the other sections of the ring." Daala mused aloud. "Yes…after the Battle of Earth, they're worried that we're just the vanguard…no, more than that, bait, to draw them in for the main fleet as it jumps out of hyperspace. They're being cautious. Let's see how well they can keep it up: all ships, advance."

"Yes, admiral." Her adjutant said while relaying orders, and again, the Thirteenth Battlegroup pressed forward. The Fourth Fleet moved to intercept, and Daala clenched her fist.

"All ships," she barked. "Maximum battle speed!"

In a surprising show of sudden aggression, the Thirteenth Battlegroup launched a full attack, catching the Fourth Fleet by surprise, used as it was to Daala's cautious maneuvers over the past hour. The Fourth Fleet's entire advance guard was wiped out, and the central formation decimated with the fleet's command element coming under fire.

Starfleet responded quickly, dispatching the Eighth and Ninth Fleets to reinforce the Fourth Fleet. The two fresh fleets moved to flank the Thirteenth Battlegroup, but attempts at encirclement were foiled thanks to the Fifth Battlegroup, which opened fire at long range.

Daala nodded as she looked at the tactical display, bracing herself at the rails as photon torpedoes shook her ship from a direct hit. "We've done enough for now." She ordered. "Fall back, but have our guns lay down a curtain of fire as we withdraw."

The Thirteenth Battlegroup fell back as ordered, laying down a murderous curtain of fire against any would-be pursuit, in addition to the cover fire from the Fifth Battlegroup. By the time the firing stopped, the Thirteenth Battlegroup had suffered five per cent losses, mostly smaller vessels, although that number would rise to twenty-five per cent if one included not just destroyed vessels, but damaged ones as well. In contrast, Starfleet's Fourth Fleet had suffered forty per cent losses, while the Eighth and Ninth Fleets had suffered two and three per cent losses, respectively.

Not a bad rate of exchange, all things considered.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"We'll have to be more careful going forward." Daala remarked. "The Federation won't fall for such a ploy next time."

"Agreed." Tye concurred via holo-call from his flagship, the Iron Duke. "But that doesn't mean we can't continue to use aggressive, equally bold and subtle tactics in the siege as it develops. At least, until the main fleet arrives."

"You have something in mind then." Daala said. It wasn't a question.

"I do." Tye said with a nod before forwarding his tactical plan, Daala looking it over for a couple of minutes.

"Interesting…" she finally said. "…simple and straightforward, but with a degree of subtlety to it."

"That is the idea." Tye said with another nod. "Besides, simple plans are less likely to kriff up on the battlefield, and play better with our strengths than with that of Starfleet."

"True." Daala admitted. "Very well, I'll expedite field repairs, my fleet should be ready to move within the next thirty-six hours."

"Understood." Tye said. "As for the main fleet, they should be arriving within the next five days. There's been a…minor delay."

"Oh?"

"Operation Staple has been moved up, apparently."

That had Daala's eyes widening. Then she blinked, and narrowed her eyes as she quickly went through the possible causes behind what was originally supposed to be something for after the Federation had been brought to heel.

"Section 31…?" she asked.

"Possibly," Tye replied. "The clearances for the operational details have all been ranked-up. All I know is that something they found on Earth shook up expeditionary command, so much so that the admiral brought in her own family's household troops."

"What?" Daala incredulously asked

"Yes," Tye said grimly. "Apparently, whether in success or defeat, Admiral Targaryen plans on taking personal responsibility for…one or another, detail of Operation Staple. If there's to be any blowback either way, she wants the Empire to stay as clear of it as possible, with only House Targaryen to potentially get dragged down."

"That…or to monopolize the rewards." Daala pointed out.

"Possibly…" Tye conceded. "…still, based on our experiences in this campaign, if we're to get dragged into the games of the nobility, then I'd say better House Targaryen than House Elegin or, gods forbid, Houses Organa or Antilles, among others."

"Or House Vandron, for that matter." Daala sourly said, considering it was Lord Crueya Vandron's misogynist vision of Human High Culture that had all but torpedoed her career right from the start. If not for the patronage of, at first, Grand Moff Tarkin, and then Admiral Targaryen, she'd probably be stuck pushing papers at a dead end post somewhere.

That, or drummed out of the military entirely.

Tye gave a cough and then a strained smile. "In any case," he said. "We should focus on the task at hand."

"This is true." Daala conceded, her fellow admiral nodding gratefully at the change in topic.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Twenty-five hours later, and the Imperial vanguard resumed its attack on Kharzh'ulla.

This time, the Fifth Battlegroup took the lead, charging forward at maximum battle speed, with forward shields at double power. At the same time, gun batteries and launch tubes fired again and again, hammering the orbital ring and the defending Starfleet forces, before making a sharp turn to port just before entering close range, and then coming back, heading away from the planet.

Normally, this would be suicide, exposing as it would the fleet's rear where it could barely shoot back. But the Thirteenth Battlegroup was right behind the Fifth Battlegroup, speeding up as the preceding fleet slowed to turn, and hammering the defenders before they could attack the withdrawing fleet in the rear.

Then once again, the Thirteenth Battlegroup turned to port just before reaching close range, and delivering full broadsides, came about to disengage, the Fifth Battlegroup just behind them for another attack. Vice Admiral Tyron-Hu Tye called this the 'revolving door', and it was devastating.

Starfleet suffered atrocious losses, with the Eighth Fleet suffering over thirty per cent losses in barely an hour. However, Fleet Admiral Ross saw an opportunity there, and committed his command fleet along with the Fourth and Ninth Fleets just as the Thirteenth Battlegroup closed in. Having calculated the relative speed and positioning of the Imperial fleets, Starfleet moved to englobe the Thirteenth Battlegroup, with the goal of destroying it and effectively annihilating the Imperial vanguard.

That it was no secret – if not actually common knowledge – that the Thirteenth Battlegroup's commander had previously commanded the Fast Attack Force which had destroyed San Francisco during the Battle of Earth added a touch of bloodlust to the Starfleet officers and crew, a desire for vengeance that gave them the strength to (figuratively) move mountains.

But if they thought Daala was easy prey, they were dead wrong.

Ignoring her adjutant, an enraged Daala all but literally punched all Imperial channels open on the control panel. "All squadron and flotilla commanders!" she roared. "This is Admiral Daala! We're surrounded, but we're not beaten yet! Engage at will! Scramble all attack craft! Destroy each and every enemy ship in range!"

The Thirteenth Battlegroup deliberately dissolved its formation, individual flotillas and squadrons launching a furious assault and closing to point-blank range. The fleet's smaller vessels suffered horrendous losses, but they gave as good as they got, while the Star Destroyers took a beating even as they left burning hulks around and in their wake.

Then the Fifth Battlegroup was closing, turbolasers blazing as they tried to cover the Thirteenth Battlegroup. "Admiral…!" Daala's adjutant shouted. "We must withdraw!"

"Not yet!" Daala roared. "Advance! The enemy flagship is right in front of us!"

"But admiral…!"

"Shut up!" Daala shouted the man down. "Fight!"

Terror and five other Venator and Victory Class Star Destroyers charged forward, turbolasers blazing as fires burned from various hull breaches. Only a handful of CR-90s and Dreadnoughts still screened them, but as the smaller vessels suffered repeated hits and began to slow and burn, the Star Destroyers finally managed to close their figurative jaws around their prey.

"FIRE!" Daala roared, and volleys of turbolaser fire and concussion missiles hammered at the Cerberus and its detached vessels. Shields failed, then the Imperial artillery fire ripped through hull plating, space blazing bright with the blinding flare of a breached warp core less than a minute later. "All ships to port! Destroying everything in our way!"

The Star Destroyers banked hard, turbolasers continuing to fire, but Starfleet was in disarray, the death of Fleet Admiral Ross in battle shattering the chain of command and dousing Starfleet's battle fury with the cold waters of uncertainty and dismay. Twenty minutes later, and the Thirteenth Battlegroup was clear, having lost just over half its forces, but had managed annihilate the Starfleet Command Fleet while inflicting heavy losses on the Fourth, Eighth, and Ninth Fleets.

"Did we win?" Daala simply asked Tye on holo-call.

The other admiral pointedly looked at the tactical display, with Starfleet milling about the orbital ring in disarray. "Yes." He said. "This battle at least."

"Good." Daala said, sighing and slumping as the high of battle waned, and the pressure and loss took their toll. "It wasn't…it wasn't for nothing."

"No," Tye agreed. "It wasn't for nothing."

"That's…good…very good…"