The New Imperium Peace With A Price Typeria 0445 hours "The GREYHOUND's re-entry is in fifteen seconds, Colonel," a bridge officer advised Marin Aleance as the HOME ONE hurtled through hyperspace many light-years out from its destination. Colonel Aleance sat rigidly in her chair, studying the glowing confines of the alternate dimension as her ship hurtled through it. After a few moments, she nodded at the officer who gave her the information. Seconds ticked by. "GREYHOUND re-entry...now! Gunship re-entry in ten seconds." Marin exhaled a deep breath slowly. She had a very bad feeling about this deployment. An alarm chimed loudly one time as the five Corellian Gunships dropped back into the universe proper. Eight seconds later, the three Frigates did the same. Marin thought, trying to bury her nervousness. "Five seconds until re-entry!" The hum of the hyperdrive cut off abruptly, replaced by the deep-throated growls of realspace thrusters. Blotches of color quickly thinned into starlines. The starlines snapped into pinpricks of light. A large white star hung in the distance. And directly ahead was Typeria. The picket GREYHOUND was completely invisible at long range to Marin, for the ship's grey armor blended in perfectly with the Typerian backdrop. Marin had heard somewhere that Typeria had once been green. That was hard to believe. Colonel Aleance's eyes found the five Corellian Gunships hanging in perfect Spread Formation thirty kilometers ahead. Twenty kilometers behind the gunships, two slate grey Nebulon-B Frigates and one deep blue Nebulon-B2 Frigate sat, waiting. Other unidentified dots framed Typeria in a classic defensive posture. "Okay, comm. Begin broadcasting the message on my mark," Marin spoke with a thumb on the Transmit button of her intercom unit. "Three...two...one...Mark." She heard her own voice emanating from the comm unit; beginning to say the message she had recorded during the hyperspace jump. "This is Colonel Marin Aleance, Executive Officer of the New Republic Navy's Third Fleet, broadcasting to all New Imperium forces. Do not take any offensive action on us. This isn't a war. We have not come to fight. Our shields are off and our lasers powered down. "No matter what you may believe, this is a New Republic world. The New Republic tolerate your presence here no longer. The rest of the Third Fleet Fleet is arriving soon. Once the fleet is gathered, you will allow your ships to be disabled and boarded. No harm will come to you or your families - the New Republic is as averse to bloodshed as you. Do not allow this unfortunate situation to escalate into something much worse." The New Republic ships waited tensely for a response. Marin Aleance resisted the urge to move, to breathe, to even think that anything might happen. she thought as the seconds slid by. "Colonel," a comm officer said. "We're being hailed." Never had Marin felt such a release of tension as she did in that moment. "Put it on the holoscreen," Colonel Aleance said as she moved to the holoscreen station. The image of a severely tall, gaunt man with high cheekbones and short cropped black hair - grey at the temples - appeared out of the wall of static. The man wore a uniform similar to that of an Imperial Navy Captain, except that the customary sweater was now a vest, with a crisp white long-sleeved shirt underneath. The man studied her for a second, his dark eyes sizing her up. Marin was cautious not to flinch or shrink away from intense gaze. She simply sat there and waited for him to make the first move. Finally, the man clasped his hands behind his back and spoke, his flinty voice sounding slightly tinny through the audio pickup. "Colonel Marin Aleance - I am Admiral Syett Markims, captain of the N.I.S. SEBRING and commander of the New Imperium Navy. I would like to know exactly why you are here." "I would have thought that my previous message would have answered that question." Marin kept her voice as flat and emotionless as she could. "Your message didn't reach my fleet, Colonel. The Imperium Ground Control scrambled it soon after you started broadcasting it. We didn't hear much more than your name." "I'll repeat the message, then. This is Colonel Marin Aleance, Executive -" Admiral Markims cut her off. "I don't think that makes much difference, now. My orders are explicit. You are to leave this system of your own accord or we will make you leave." "Is that a threat, Admiral?" Marin couldn't completely keep her contempt for this man from manifesting itself in her words. "If it is, you will soon discover that those who threaten me and my forces live to regret it." The man smiled, the show of emotion somehow making his visage very ugly. "That was not a threat, Colonel. I was simply informing you of reality. Whether or not you accept that reality is a choice I can not make for you." "Make your empty threats, Admiral. We will not leave." This time, Admiral Markims not only smiled, he laughed. "Empty threats? Empty threats! Colonel, two of my Imperium Frigates are already moving to attack; if you resist, more will follow suit." The connection died abruptly before Marin could retaliate. "Colonel!" somebody called. "The GREYHOUND reports two Frigates inbound on it!" Marin opened a channel to her fleet. "All ships, pull back into Attack Diamondhead Formation. GREYHOUND, get out of there! Identify all Imperium ships as hostile!" The captains under her command acknowledged her with an 'Aye-aye' or a 'yes ma'am'. Then they sprung into action. Marin could see the GREYHOUND now, running with its tailpipes pointed at Typeria. She also saw the two winged spears - New Imperium Frigates - following the picket. The sensor screen told the whole story - the GREYHOUND would be in the Frigates' missile range in a few short seconds. "All ships, shields up. Power up your lasers and arm your missile launchers." Marin dug her fingernails into the armrests of her seat. Red streaks appeared in the void between the Frigates and the picket ship. "Concussion Missiles have been launched!" someone called. Marin narrowed her eyes. "Keep up the pullback, everyone. Prepare to return fire at Code Yellow Protocol as soon as any NI ships comes within range." A panicked voice emanated from the interfleet comlink. "This is the GREYHOUND - we're gonna be hit!" The voice sounded muffled when it next spoke, suggesting that the GREYHOUND's captain was turned away from the comlink. "All crew, abandon ship! I repeat - all crew-" The Imperium's concussion missiles found their mark. The GREYHOUND was ripped open, its inner bulkheads exposed to the vacuum of space. The next volley of missiles obscured the ship behind a veil of fire. "Dammit!" Marin pounded her armrest with a clenched fist. "Pull back, maximum speed, fleet!" "It's no use!" the captain of the Gunship STAND OFF reported in. "They're fast! They're catching up to us!" "How long until those Frigates are in range of the Gunships?" Marin asked a sensor officer. "Thirty seconds," was the Gotal's reply. "And how long has it been since the Frigates first attacked?" "One minute three seconds." "Good." Marin turned to the comlink. "All ships, you are now authorized to return fire at Full Counterforce Protocol. Launch your A- and E-Wings." The starfighters, already on alert, swarmed out of the Republican ships' hanger bays fifteen seconds later, a total of six squadrons. In response, each of the Frigates deployed four squadrons of assorted Tie craft. "They must not be your average terrorists," Marin Aleance breathed, "to have that many fighters." The Frigates and the Gunships came within missile range of each other. Missiles rushed of into the void, tracking their targets with a deadly accuracy. The Gunships spread their missiles evenly, to hit both Frigates with the same amount. Both of the big ships sustained moderate damage. The Frigates, on the other hand, concentrated their fire on one ship, the Gunship KESTREL. The small ship's shields were engulfed in a sea of flames for a few seconds, fighting to hold up. They had no chance. First missiles, and then turbolaser lances pounded the now unshielded hull of the KESTREL. What little return fire that now came off the Gunship seemed to have no effect on its attackers. The ship bucked and rolled beneath the onslaught, its crew fighting valiantly for survival. The other four gunships slowed and began to fire on the Frigates, hesitant to leave their comrades behind. "Keep up the retreat, Gunships," Colonel Aleance ordered. "The KESTREL is beyond saving except through divine intervention." For the next five minutes, the two Frigates pounded the dying Gunship with turbolaser blasts, using ion cannons to disable any escape pods that their quarry jettisoned. They paid no attention to the starfighters whirling around them like gnats around a Jawa's face, as the Republican fighters were slowly forced to retreat for lack of capital ship fire support. The Ties did not follow when the Wings retreated, knowing better than to press their luck. The next Third Fleet sub-group appeared in-system. The Fleet Carrier, two Hapes Nova Battle Cruisers, and four Corellian Corvettes were too late to save their fallen comrades, though. They were also too smart to try. Coruscant 1200 hours The tension in the room was tangible. It was present in every breath, the humid air coating all surfaces. The silence was even more oppressive, the only sounds being the occasional hum of a speeder in the streets through the window, and the hollow tapping of Kube Madre's knuckles on the real wood table. "I have a very bad feeling about this..." the director of the War Department trailed off, drawing in a deep breath through his teeth. "I've been having that very same feeling." Leia looked apprehensively over the shoulder at the closed door, hoping that General Rieekan would be here soon. Not even Admiral Ackbar knew anything about what would be discussed at this meeting, aside from the fearful possibility that Third Fleet ships may have clashed with those of the New Imperium. But unless the New Imperium was actually hoping for a war, that couldn't happen. Could it? "General Rieekan has arrived for the meeting." Alole's voice flowed through the intercom. "By all means - send him in," Leia said. The reinforced durasteel door rose with a mechanical hiss a few moments later. General Rieekan walked in, saluting crisply once he reached the far end of the room. Leia nodded, and the General stood at relative ease for a few seconds longer before speaking. "As you know, Third Fleet recently deployed to Typeria with orders to attempt to diffuse the situation. At approximately five A.M. this morning, the first group of the Third's ships - a cruiser, three frigates, five gunships, and a picket - arrived at Typeria." Absolute silence deadened the tense atmosphere of the room for a few seconds as the General searched for exactly the right words. Leia leaned forwards in her chair, as if that would let her hear the General better. General Rieekan took a deep breath and spoke. "Shots were exchanged." Leia sank back into her chair, her breath running out of her lungs with a whoosh. Many of the other Councilors had similar reactions. Leia spoke. "What...what were the results of the exchange?" She felt almost ashamed for asking, but such a question was unavoidable. It would greatly influence what she would do next. "The Third Fleet group lost a picket and a gunship along with all hands." General Rieekan took a quick, pained breath before continuing. "The New Imperium suffered no casualties." We've got a war on our hands," Kube Madre said, his icy-blue eyes boring into Leia. "What do we do now?" Leia would never tell anyone the single, ugly thought that burst into her mind next. With a rush of fear and adrenaline accompanying it, the thought was a plain and simple message. Coruscant 1430 hours Anakin Solo was asleep, sitting in his mother's lap with his head on his father's shoulder. Leia treasured these moments with her children - more so now as Jacen and Jaina matured, with Anakin striving to be 'grown-up' too. And with her twins visiting at Yavin IV, where they would undergo Jedi training in a few months, it had been so quiet lately... Although he wasn't a Jedi Knight, Han Solo had become quite adept at reading his wife's thoughts. "Don't worry, Jacen and Jaina will be back in a week," he said, patting her on the knee. Leia listened to Anakin's rhythmic breathing for a few moments before she replied. "I know, Han. Its just, well, they're growing up so fast, and its such a dangerous galaxy out there..." she trailed off, unsure if she had made her point clear. "What I mean is, well - what if we had been killed in that bombing? What would happen than?" Han Solo looked contemplatively out the window at the shimmering world of Coruscant below. Coruscant's new orbital space traffic control station, conservatively if rather unimaginatively named GATEWAY, offered some spectacular views. Its tight security also made it one of the safest places in-system for the Solo family to retreat to, with the impending threat of another bombing on everyone's mind. Han Solo watched the city-planet for a few seconds. "Don't talk like that," he said, a wistful smile on his lips. "We're safe up here." Leia laid Anakin's legs down onto the repulsorcouch's cushions and turned her body towards Han. "But what about all the innocent people on Typeria? What about the crews aboard the Third Fleet's ships? What about all the people who've already died?" Han Solo raised his hands, as if in defense against the barrage of questions. "What's done is done, Leia. We can't save those who've already died." Leia stood up, her mind already racing to formulate a plan. "But what next, though? How much are we willing to risk for Typeria?" "Leia," Han reached out and grabbed his wife's hands. "Mattan Balao doesn't want a war. If he does, he's going about it all wrong. I think he's just another terrorist who wants to be heard." The corners of Leia's mouth tightened. "The same way the Human League 'just wanted to be heard'? Han, what if this is bigger than we've anticipated?" Han eased away from Anakin and gently set the sleeping boy's head onto the couch. He stood up and embraced Leia. "Leia, the New Republic Navy is the largest in the galaxy. If the New Imperium so much as looks at us wrong again, we can blast them back into an eon before time existed." Leia shook her head. "No, we mustn't do that! The Fenob Uprising caused enough deaths. This government can not afford to be exposed to more riots of that magnitude, let alone a war." She backed away from Han and spoke with true conviction in her voice. "No, the Typerian situation can not become another Fenob Uprising. It must be diffused before it can grow any larger. "Han, I must go to Typeria." She waited for him to try and talk her out of leaving the relative safety of GATEWAY. He didn't. All Han Solo said was: "I'm going with you." Typeria 1715 hours "They're splitting into groups, looks like a standard Hunter-Killer Team formation," the helmsman called back to General Kenlamb Sha'hazar. The commander of Third Fleet replied in the sing-song, birdlike voice inherent in all Omwati. "Solidify the outer shell of defenses. Order the outermost corvettes to attain missile locks. We'll see if we can't scare 'em off." Currently, four Imperium Frigates were probing Third Fleet's defenses, each of the big ships flanked by two of the boxy Imperium Corvettes. This had been going on for about an hour, but never had the ships allowed themselves to come within missile range of Third Fleet's ships. General Sha'hazar thought for a moment, then continued. "Get Colonel Erkholm and Blue Squadron out there, too. That'll show them we mean business." "Aye, sir." The distance between Colonel Rale Erkholm's E-Wing and the Imperium Frigate 13-C was closing unnervingly fast. The aggressive-looking grey-blue ship was using its tremendously powerful sublight engines to charge at Third Fleet's outermost ships. Rale thought. Rale pushed all extraneous thoughts from his mind, instead concentrating on keeping his squadron in order. One ship, Blue Eight, caught his attention. The ship belonged to Darb Yeldarb, a humanoid hybrid with an outward resemblance to a younger version of the semi-famous Shug Ninx. Darb's craft was jumping in and out of formation, literally twitching with anticipation. "Hey, Eight!" Rale called through the comlink. "Everything okay there, Darb?" "Nothing's wrong, sir," the young man's husky voice replied. "Just a little nervous, I guess. I missed my first chance at combat earlier today, and I don't want to again." Rale grunted his disapproval. "Not exactly the attitude a New Republican pilot should have. Hey Jess, make sure that our 'soldier-of-fortune' here doesn't start a war, eh?" Blue Squadron's Executive Officer and Rale's best friend, Jess Elwyn, replied. "No prob, sir. Just don't forget that you were like that once, too." Rale chuckled. Jess was obviously alluding to what she called 'The Pre-Endor Erkholm'. The woman had a fervor for life that never failed to amaze her commanding officer. "All right, all right," Rale cautioned. "Sober up. It could get real tight real quick here." The Imperium Frigate, growing more massive with every passing second, decelerated and rolled up onto its port side, in effect making a very tight turn. The two boxy corvettes flanking it mirrored the maneuver. Rale eyed the three ships carefully as they closed in. Their laser turrets were tracking the New Republican ships. "Missile range in thirty seconds," Rale reported to his squadron, signifying the point in which they would be able to try for a missile lock on the Imperium ships. "They haven't launched fighters yet. Let's hope it stays that way." The E-Wings streaked in on the three Imperium ships, which were now turning around to rush the Third Fleet again. "Missile range in five seconds," Jess made the announcement this time. The E-Wings came within range. The dim crosshairs on Rale's Heads-Up-Display flashed to gold as his targeting computer began searching for a solid lock-on to the Imperium Frigate. Suddenly, a small screen above the large Targeting Display started flashing. The worried voice of Darb Yeldarb came through the speakers in Rale's fighter. "I'm being lit up here. Anyone else?" "Don't worry, Eight. They're doing the same with me," Rale reassured the young pilot. The Imperium ships were searching for missile locks on the E-Wings in the same way the fighters were with them. "I'm lit up, too," Blue Four said. His remark was followed by the other members of the squadron reporting the same thing. "Four kilometers to target," Jess reported. "I have missile lock." "Same here, Jess." The crosshairs on Rale's HUD were blood-red and his R7 droid was sending him a solid lock tone. The Imperium ships and the twelve E-Wings still came head-on. In another fifteen seconds, the space separating the ships had been cut in half. "Two kilometers, Blues. Hit 'em with all you got if you see anything aggressive-looking." Rale cleared his throat nervously and blinked a droplet of sweat out of his left eye. "They're slowing down!" Jess cried. Sure enough the three ships had decelerated to the point of almost standing still. Rale noted with some discomfort that the Imperium Frigate looked far larger than five hundred meters at this range. Then again, so did the corvettes. "One kilometer, Blues. Proceed with the utmost of caution." A gaping hole suddenly appeared on the underside of the Frigate. A multitude of dull grey-and-black ships boiled out from the belly of the ship. In under five seconds, the Imperium Frigate launched exactly two squadrons, twenty-four fighters, each of Tie Interceptors and Tie Fighters. "Frak!" Rale swore. "Pull up, four dozen bogeys on an intercept course. I repeat - Pull up!" The E-Wings starfighter was often credited as being the most maneuverable starfighter in the galaxy. Still it took a longer time for Blue Squadron's E-Wings to make a one hundred-eighty degree turn than it did for the forty-eight Imperium Ties to overtake them. Neither side's pilots had enough time to react and change courses before the two groups of fighters became one. The amount of time from the moment the last fighter was launched from the Frigate to the time it met head-on with the E-Wings was under two seconds. Rale strained to keep his ship straight as it tore between the fifteen-meter gap between the furball of fighters and the Imperium Frigate. There were more spacecraft in a single cubic kilometer of space than he had ever seen, with the exception of the original, huge dogfights that broke out at the Battle of Endor. Amazingly enough, no shots were fired. The Imperium fighters all broke into high, looping climbs above Blue Squadron, acting as one single body. Rale knew what they were doing. They were giving the E-Wings a chance to disengage. "That's enough for today, Blue boys," Rale called. "Disengage and return to the SCIMITAR." As the E-Wings obeyed the order, Darb Yeldarb was the only one who protested. "But Colonel, this is our chance! We can't just let these goons push around!" "Darb, you would've been a good pilot twenty years ago, when that attitude was necessary for survival. But this isn't a war. We're here to keep the peace, not shatter it." Rale shook his head sadly, ignoring the tuft of brown hair that fell out from under his helmet, obscuring his vision through one eye. Coruscant 1945 hours "You'll take good care of him, won't you?" Leia Organa Solo looked worriedly from her oldest and dearest friend, Winter, to her youngest child, Anakin. "You can count on it, Leia," Winter said seriously. "I will make sure that his safety is never in question." "I'll be okay. Mom," Anakin Solo asserted. "I can take care of myself." Han Solo reached out and ruffled his son's hair. "You don't have to tell us that. We already know." As Han and Anakin continued their conversation, Leia turned back to Winter. "If everything goes as planned, Han and I should be back at about the same time Jacen and Jaina return." "That's good, Leia," Winter said, smiling slightly. "I'm sure you don't want to miss their arrival." "It would take an extremely catastrophic event," Leia said. "It has been so quiet lately without them, I find myself dreading the time that they'll be leaving for Luke's academy indefinitely." Winter shook her head. "Don't worry about that, Leia. As long as you love them now, they'll return the love later, when you need it." "I hope you're right." Leia looked out the window at the Imperial-class Star Destroyer REBEL DREAM, which had docked with GATEWAY so that Leia and Han could board it. In that ship, their arrival at Typeria would not go unnoticed. "We're ready when you are," one of Leia's armed escorts, Kaj Lisra, said. Out of politeness, he gave a nod of recognition to Winter before resuming the constant communications with the REBEL DREAM that he had been keeping up as the big ship had docked. "Well, Leia, you ready?" Han asked, turning towards his wife. "I'd rather not, but a diplomat's job is never done." Leia gave Anakin a hug before she turned and began walking down the long hallway to the REBEL DREAM. SLIPS Command 2000 hours "Sorry to keep all these contacts piling up on you, but we have an interesting one that seems to be getting ready for hyperspace." General Barth Lomaw looked apologetically at Bilks, but the kid just shrugged. "This is what I get paid for," the young man said. "Besides, identifying contacts is the only interesting part of my job. I'll give it a go." "She's right above our heads now," Barth explained. "Seems to be a Planetary Guard ship that just finished docking with GATEWAY. Looks like its setting up for a hyperspace jump, too." Bilks adjusted the bulky pair of headphones he wore and flipped a switch to begin the playback. "No mistaking this one," he said. "Big, bulky, slow, bristling with weapons." He paused for a moment, taking a bite out of a thick sandwich. "Impstar Deuce," Bilks concluded, using the common name for an Imperial-class Star Destroyer, Mark Two. "But not your standard model." "What do you mean?" Lomaw asked, amazed at what his most trusted subordinate could pick out with just his ears. "Some of the weapons on this ship have been pulled, replaced with sensor equipment." Bilks said. "I'm cross-referencing what we're hearing with the NRI Database on modified Star Destroyers." A couple of seconds ticked by. Finally, Bilks spoke up again. He handed the earphones to Lomaw, who put them on and observed the strange growl emanating from them. "Sir," Bilks said, "you are listening to the Imperial-class Star Destroyer Mark-Two REBEL DREAM." The young man looked proud of himself. Lomaw thought. The growl emanating from the headphones General Barth Lomaw was wearing abruptly ceased, replaced by a strange humming. An instant later the sound disappeared completely. "Lost 'er," Lomaw grunted, handing the headphones back to Bilks. "Yeah," Bilks said. "And guess what planet she seemed to be on a course for." Lomaw turned towards Bilks. "You don't mean-" "Yes, sir. The REBEL DREAM, President Organa's personal courier ship, is heading to Typeria." ===================================================================== THE NEW IMPERIUM: PEACE WITH A PRICE story by Greg Schutz send questions\comments to: crazy8@wnclink.com This is only DAY FOUR of this story. Its not over yet - this story will have ten days. Feel free to post this story wherever you so desire, as long as it is posted in its entirety. ===================================================================== DISCLAIMER: I, Greg Schutz, hereby state this: that my work, The New Imperium: Peace With A Price, is not breaking any current copyright laws; that I am not using this work to collect money for possession; and that I recognize that this work is based on characters and\or that are copyright-protected by Lucasfilms, LTD. This story is for entertainment purposes only.