The New Imperium Peace With A Price Day Five Typeria 0415 hours "Watch those fighters, Jess," Colonel Rale Erkholm said, gesturing vaguely towards a pair of Tie Scouts trying to sneak through the Third Fleet's fighter screen. "Give a good fly-by and see if they turn around." Jess Elwyn's E-Wing starfighter leapt out of formation and darted nimbly towards its targets, guided by the woman's expert hands. Rale glanced at his sensors, reading the story they told. He wasn't sure if the story would have a happy ending, but right now things seemed grim enough. In the past hour or so, the Imperium forces had stopped trying to force the Third Fleet ships into firing by rushing towards their adversary. Instead, the New Imperium was now sending out Tie craft, mostly Scout models, to try and penetrate into the Third's ranks and draw some fire. Rale thought, shaking his head. Blue Squadron was currently down to five free fighters, the other seven currently under orders to intercept the incoming Ties and escort them away from the main fleet. Just one gunner with an itchy trigger finger could start an interstellar war. Rale thought, tightening his grip on the flight stick until his knuckles paled. Rale shook his head. Those worries were not his. He was a warrior, plain and simple. He didn't care when or why a war was started, he only cared if a war was started. He accepted orders, and, in recent years, learned to give them. He had quickly learned that being in command was not an enviable position. Of course, that train of thought brought up many interesting mental debates, such as "If a commander wants to defect, who under him can remain loyal to his government without being guilty of insubordination?" and "How can warriors like me fight, all the while knowing that the one who is really waging the war will never physically see the enemy?". Rale had waged those mental wars many years ago. The day after the Battle of Endor, in fact. His answers to those questions were these: one, laws can not govern one's loyalty, so one is free to decide whether his loyalty lies with the government of his commanding officer, and that warriors fight under such circumstances because, simply, there is trust between a warrior and his commanders. And the warrior is brave. Rale thought as he called to his squadron to form up. The then-General Kube Madre had summed up the warrior's state of mind perfectly when he said: "A warrior sees all the evil out there waiting to happen. Then he sees that one could throw oneself into a narrow gap between the evil and the innocent, and act as a human shield. Then he looks at himself and says 'Hell, somebody's got to do it!'" As Rale recalled the famous quote with a distant smile, he looked off to starboard. More Ties were on their way. With a barked command from Rale, Blue Squadron turned and prepared to escort the fighters back to their waiting, sinister dark-grey fleet. Rale's mind had already gotten itself off on a tangent, so to blurt out that next thought was inevitable. It was an elementary and shallow thought, he knew that, but somehow it managed to trouble him whenever he thought about it. And when you're up in the heavens, among celestial bodies that you might have dreamed of reaching up and touching as a young child, thinking comes easily. He dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. Without warning, red and green laser bolts leapt across the gap between Imperium and Republic ships. Rale pulled his visor over his eyes just in time to shield them from the explosion of a Tie Interceptor, followed seconds later by that of an A-Wing. "Blue boys, form up. Hit those fighters fast and hard." Rale instantly forgot all the thoughts troubling him only seconds earlier, only concerned with being ready to fight. "Wha-? Who shot first?" Darb Yeldarb cried, his voice a mass of confusion. "Doesn't matter, kid," Rale answered. "Just form up in your flight group and we'll hit these NI goons." Blue Squadron's twelve E-Wings leapt into the fray, laser cannons blazing. Rale smiled with grim satisfaction as a Tie Fighter disintegrated under his fire. He watched his E-Wings swirl through the furball of friendly and hostile craft. Missiles and laser bolts filled the sky, crushing and exploding and killing. And yet somehow the mechanical mayhem seemed graceful. Rale sent his ship into a power dive that left him skimming a few scant meters above the hull of an Imperium Corvette. The ship's laser cannons reached out at him, weaving a deadly glowing web to trap him. But with a skillful looping climb, he threaded the needle and shot back up into relatively clear sky. And then green lasers hissed against his rear shield arc. He had pulled up just in time for a free Tie to get a firing solution on him. Rale kept his cool as the shields steamed and popped, opting to continue his rocketing climb. He leveled out and rolled hard right, watching his follower imitate his every move. Until a laser bolt from a nearby Corellian Corvette incinerated the Tie. To show his appreciation, Rale wagged his S-foils at the corvette as he flew by it towards the epicenter of the dogfight. he thought to the pilot of the Tie Interceptor he drew a firing solution on. Rale's eyes narrowed, the lines around his mouth hardened. He blew the Tie Interceptor to ashes. Typeria 0745 hours "General, you have a Priority One call waiting for you." General Kenlamb Sha'hazar was startled from a momentary reverie. "Who is it?" he asked. "Kube Madre, sir." General Sha'hazar nodded and stood up. "Route the call to the comlink in my quarters." "Yes, sir." Thirty seconds later, General Sha'hazar picked up his long-distance comlink. "Hello, Kube." The man in the comlink's screen nodded a greeting. "General?" "Yes?" "Care to tell me what happened?" "Hmmmm? You mean today's engagement?" Kube Madre nodded sternly. "What else?" "A rookie gunner aboard one of our corvettes got a little paranoid, decided that the Imperium fighters were hostile." "And ten seconds later they were?" Kube Madre sounded skeptical. "Exactly." The director of the War Department shook his head. "No. That's too easy. The NI'd hafta be insane to let a battle start that easily..." he trailed off. Kenlamb Sha'hazar looked at his superior inquisitively. "Sir?" Kube Madre finished his sentence. "They'd hafta be insane...or have one Hell of a plan." "A plan? Like what?" Madre exhaled slowly, creating a raspy sound over the comlink connection. "If I knew that, Kenlamb, we wouldn't be sitting here trying to figure out how to make things look better in time for the President's arrival." "The President's coming?" Sha'hazar gulped. "Here? Now? Is she insane? This is a hot zone!" Kube Madre chuckled. "It's not our job to evaluate her sanity. I'm sure she has psychologists who could do that far better. But yes, she is coming. And today, too." "How long do I have to prepare?" The grey-haired man thought for a second. "Five, six, seven hours, perhaps?" "I'm afraid we will be hard pressed to make things right in seven weeks," Sha'hazar said, rubbing his temples. "Let alone seven hours." Kube Madre stared off-screen for a moment or two. "Reminds me of Operation Secret Fears, having to execute an op so fast." Sha'hazar suppressed a shudder. Operation Secret Fears had been one of his last missions with Kube Madre's commando team, shortly after the Battle of Endor. The commando unit had secretly infiltrated an Imperial Core World, Hiscalfa, and used a variety of holographs, untraceable comlink calls, ominous threats, sentry guns, and assassin droids to make the Imperial government think that a serious revolt was beginning on their planet. All in all, twelve men held the planet under siege for eleven days. Then the government had gotten smart and hunted them down, one by one. Only Kube and Kenlamb had survived the Imperial reprisal. Nevertheless, Operation Secret Fears was considered a complete and utter victory for the Rebel Alliance, proving that even when outnumbered a million to one (literally) the Alliance could pull through. "Let's hope that this doesn't end up anything like that," Sha'hazar said. Deep down, though, he had a very bad feeling about the situation that was unfolding... Typeria 1130 hours "Their President is coming?" Mattan Balao parroted to the Intelligence Officer opposite his desk, getting a nod in return. "Interesting. Most Interesting." Balao took a long, slow sip from the mug of hot tea he was clutching. He inhaled the steam through his nose and exhaled it slowly from his mouth in a smoky puff. He stroked his chin, trying hard to cultivate the image of being deep in thought. He kept up the charade for a few moments longer, all the while watching the Intelligence Officer out of the corner of his eye. The younger man remained at rigid attention, unmoving, unblinking. "All right, then," Balao said at last. "In the meantime, let's see if we can't escalate this situation even further. Give them a chance at one of our Frigates, then cut off their attacking ships and rip them apart. The more losses we inflict now, the less pain we'll go through later. You are dismissed." "Yes, sir." The Intelligence Officer turned on his heels with a click of his boots. "Ah, one more thing, Major," Balao called to the other man's receding back. "Sir?" "When their President tries to make contact with us, route her directly to the High Council Office. We will be ready for her." Typeria 1215 hours "Ma'am? Look at this." "What?" Colonel Marin Aleance spun around and looked through the main forward viewport of the HOME ONE, where the officer was gesturing. "That NI formation - it's maneuvering, but Frigate 13A is lagging behind." "Damn," Aleance muttered. Sure enough, a spear-shaped Imperium Frigate was out of formation, leaving a vulnerable hole in the tight cluster of ships where it had been. Aleance shut her eyes tightly, trying to concentrate. She hadn't gotten a wink of sleep since her deployment to the Typerian system yesterday morning, and the 'round-the-clock vigil was really taking its toll on her. "Does General Sha'hazar know about this?" the officer helped. Aleance nodded and walked towards her small voice-only comlink, saying "There's only one way to find out." She toggled the comlink's knobs until it was broadcasting on the Third Fleet command frequency, which was only used by the ship commanders. Her thumb came down on the TRANSMIT button. "General Sha'hazar, this is Colonel Aleance." A few moments of silence, then: "Speak to me, Colonel." "The Imperium Frigate 13A has fallen out of formation. It's whole group is vulnerable." "We've noticed, Colonel. What do you propose we do about it?" "What choice do we have?" Aleance said. "We fire. This has become a shooting war. If anyone asks any questions, we can always justify it as self-defense." "Tempting," Sha'hazar said. There was silence for a few long moments. "But I believe that firing might be foolish right now." "Ma'am," the officer called. "They're closing formation again. We have two minutes before they fully regroup." Marin looked from the comlink to the viewport, and back again. "Foolish? Why?" There was a hint of amusement in Sha'hazar's voice. "I wouldn't want our President to arrive in the middle of a war zone." "President Solo's coming?" Aleance said, shaking her head. "Tell me this is just some joke." "No joke, Marin. She's due here probably within an hour or two." Colonel Aleance felt a hint of a major headache in the bridge of her nose. "I'm telling you, General, this Typerian Crisis is going to make me a worrywart like you yet." Something that sounded like General Sha'hazar chuckling, a rare occurrence for him, emanated from the comlink's speaker. But when the General spoke, he sounded immensely tired. "Oh, Colonel, hang in there. Believe me, you're not the only one that's worn out. But I don't think the New Imperium went to all these lengths just to start a fight." Aleance sighed. "I hope you're right." She could almost feel Kenlamb's characteristic frown in his next sentence. "So do I, Marin. So do I." Typeria 1330 hours The bridge of the REBEL DREAM was a hive of activity as the big destroyer prepared to exit hyperspace. Everywhere people were shouting out reports and following the orders they got in return. Han Solo felt totally useless, and that bothered him. It was not a feeling he was used to. Han walked up to the captain of the REBEL DREAM, Commodore Riley Harnes. He waited for the Commodore to complete a string of orders before interrupting. "Ensign Wright, initiate Phase Three jamming! Engines, prepare for realspace inversion and power up the thrusters! Okay people, this is it! One minute and counting!" Sensing that Harnes was done for the moment, Han spoke. "Riley, I feel like a second hyperdrive motivator here. Is there any way I could help?" Harnes turned and saluted casually to Han, more of a pleasantry than anything else, since Han was retired. "Solo, sir, I don't doubt that you know your way around the bridge, but I assure you that we have everything under control. Just another forty seconds and we'll be in realspace." A few years ago, Han would've started assisting the Commodore anyway. But not now. He was 'nice men' now. So instead of going against the Commodore's wishes, Han simply nodded and looked up, watching the swirling colors of hyperspace out the forward bridge viewports. he thought, The colors swirled and mixed in psychedelic patterns that would be dizzying to many people with less spacing experience than Han. Instead, he enjoyed the colors; they were always bright and merry no matter how grim the situation may be. And from what he'd heard, Han thought the Typerian Crisis to be a very grim situation indeed. A few moments of tense, expectant silence followed, and then, with a flash, the REBEL DREAM re-entered its native dimension amongst the ships of the Third Fleet. Leia entered the bridge at that moment, her timing impeccable as usual. Dressed formally in Alderaani senatorial robes (Han knew she was proud to still be able to fit them after so many years), she looked dignified, strong, and resolute. And that was the exact impression she wanted to convey to the New Imperium's leaders. Escorting her were the two Presidential Guard soldiers assigned to protect during her time at Typeria: Captain Kaj Lisra and Lieutenant 'Merry' Spooler. Each of them was armed with a blaster carbine, which they now held, and a high-powered laser pistol in a hidden shoulder holster. "Good day," came the unmistakable voice of General Sha'hazar through the DREAM's comm speakers. "I trust your voyage was pleasant?" Lisra depressed the TRANSMIT button on the comm unit, allowing Leia to speak. "As pleasant as the situation at hand allows. Although I would enjoy chatting with you, General, I'd like you to do me a favor." "Not a problem, Madame President," Sha'hazar replied. "What is the favor?" "I would like you to route the DREAM's holo-transmission signals through a communications craft. I wish to contact Typeria." Sha'hazar did not sound surprised. "I expected you to ask something along those lines, ma'am. The communications ship SOJOURNER is standing by." "Thank you, General," Leia said, all-business as she cut the connection. She moved quickly and calmly to the chair facing the holoprojection unit. "Commodore Harnes, connect to the SOJOURNER and route me through the Typerian network." "Yes, ma'am," Harnes said, and immediately a group of young sailors went to work. With a hum, the holoprojection unit came on-line. But instead of the secretary or representative everyone had expected, the image displayed was of a group of militarily-dressed men sitting around a rectangular table that looked like it was made of real wood. The man at the head of the table stood and bowed. Although he was seated at the head, he was clearly not Mattan Balao. Han thought that he looked rather like an older Crix Madine. "Greetings, President Leia Organa-Solo," the man said after bowing. "I am Josef Sebring, commander of the New Imperium's fielded military forces and director of the High Council." Leia nodded, his voice, as well as her face, expressionless. "I see that you were ready for my arrival, commander." "Josef, if you please," Sebring said. "And yes, we were ready for your arrival. We wished for the conditions for our negotiations to be outlined as soon as possible, and we thought that now would be as good a time as ever." "Negotiations?" Leia said, injecting some surprise into her voice. "Who said anything about negotiations?" Sebring sounded just as surprised as Leia. "You do not wish for a peaceful end to this situation?" "It seems that you are the ones who want war," Leia said. "However, I am willing to speak to your High Council, especially Mattan Balao. I wish to come planetside as soon as possible." Sebring nodded and smiled. He seemed genuine. "We expected this as well. Accommodations are already prepared for you and a small bodyguard detachment." "How many bodyguards?" Leia asked. "Four," Sebring replied. "What?" Han straightened up. Four men was a laughably small bodyguard section for someone as important as Leia in a place as dangerous as Typeria. "I'm not letting my wife down on that planet with less than forty!" Sebring turned towards Han. "Ah, the famous Han Solo, I see. It is good for a man to be protective of his wife, good for him to be near her at all times. The New Imperium has anticipated that you would know this. Therefore, as a secondary offer, we will allow you and a detachment of fourteen bodyguards to accompany the president." Leia shot a piercing glance at Han, but she spoke to Sebring. "Very well. You may send me any more information you have in a secure data packet to General Sha'hazar aboard the SCIMITAR. I have spoken for as long as I wish now." "This is acceptable, Madame President. I shall look forward to meeting you soon." Sebring made a motion with his hand, and the connection was cut. Leia turned toward Han, her eyes narrowed. Still, her voice was soft. "Never, Han, meddle in my affairs. You know that." "Yes," Han said, looking abashedly to the floor. "But you know how dangerous it is down there." Leia's expression softened. "Yes I know. Just try and keep quiet next time, okay?" Before Han could answer, Leia turned towards Commodore Harnes, who was sitting in the holoprojection seat that she had just vacated. General Sha'hazar was on the other end. "Sir," Harnes was saying. "Do you have twelve troops good enough to keep our president safe on Typeria." "Sha'hazar flashed a wry smile. "There's a man from my former service aboard the assault ship DRAGOON. A man by the name of Siric Rendala. He's the best in the galaxy, and his team's nothing to sneeze at. If he can't see Leia through safely, no amount of conventional troops can." "When can they be ready?" Harnes asked. "Tomorrow morning," Sha'hazar replied. Han looked up at the slate grey image of Typeria through the DREAM's bridge windscreen. It was a foreboding, ominous image, and he and his wife would be going there as soon as tomorrow. ===================================================================== THE NEW IMPERIUM: PEACE WITH A PRICE story by Greg Schutz send questions\comments to: crazy8@wnclink.com This is only DAY FIVE 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.