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As a first note. Please. No arguing over over the capabilities of Trek ships vs. Imperium ships. We've just had 16 pages of that, and I don't think any of us need anymore. Critique is, of course, greatly appreciated. If I suck horribly, please tell me, and why so I know what to do to improve. If I screw up canon, let me know so I can correct. This is honestly the first real piece of work I've put into a public forum....so, without further ado....

Part 1: Bridge of Light

Prologue

3.763M41 Imperial

Lubyan System, Delta Russ Sector, Segmentum Solar

The Retribution class battleship Ave Humanus trembled and shuddered as its vast weapons batteries sent teratons of death towards the eldar raiders hamstringing the supply effort to the great Crusade raging in the Sabbat Worlds to the galactic south. The Imperial Guard troopships, and Munitorum supply and fuel vessels scattered behind the great Imperial fleet defending them from the vile eldar raiders. Aboard the mighty vessels bridge, Lord Captain Gabriel Nuskov gripped his command throne and let a small grin cross his face. One of the fragile eldar vessels had been shattered by his battleships guns, and its wreckage slowly spun out in a small star pattern.

“Adjust course!” he called out to his helmsman. “Bring us about! Charge the xenos!” he ordered before turning to the armory officer. “Prepare the Nova Cannon,” he said with a wicked grin on his face before turning his attention back to the great window that looked upon the void. Already, the view was changing as the mighty ship altered its course to bring its armored prow and mighty Nova cannon to bear on the raiders. Nuskov grinned as he flipped open a small red button on his command throne.

“Do we have a target lock?” he asked as he rested his finger on the button.

“Yes, m’Lord,” the weapons officer replied, not taking his eyes off his panel.

“Suffer not the xenos to live!” Nuskov declared in a triumphant voice as he smashed the button. The Nova cannon on the bow of the might battleship let loose a streak of fire as the magnetic rails propelled the shell at an unimaginable speed towards the eldar raiders. The bridge crew could not help but take their eyes off their consoles to view the destruction that the mightiest weapon the battleship could boast unleashed upon the xenos raiders. The resultant explosion ignited right next to the massive ship at the heart of their formation. Against an Imperial vessel, the explosion would have crippled the ship, but the ship would have remained intact, and even have the potential for repair. But in demonstration of how the xenos fell far behind the glory of Human technology, the explosion vaporized the solar wing that propelled the sleek vessel, and left a gaping hole in its side. The vessel seemed to struggle for a minute, trying to stay together before whatever sorcery held it together failed, and the vessel tore itself apart

The loss of the vessel seemed to dishearten the remainder of the fleet; no doubt the ship had been where their lead witch had been, and the death of the psyker had broken their spirit, and were fleeing back to whatever portal they had used to enter the system. With screams of vengeance and fury echoing along the Imperial communications channels, a chunk of vessels broke away from the main Imperial Fleet, with the Ave Humanus at their head. As the chunk charged, it slowly morphed into the vanguard of the entire fleet as nearly every surviving Imperial vessel in the system charged the fleeing xenos. Battleships, cruisers, destroyers, and even the transports seemed to be unified by the words still echoing across the Imperial channels. Lord Captain Nuskov couldn’t help but smile as he saw the Astartes Strike Cruisers that had been stopping off in the system for resupply lead an entire squadron of Imperial frigates into the very heart of the remaining eldar ships. Flashes of weapons battery and lance fire lept from the Imperial ships, smashing into the scattering fleet. One eldar vessel, its solar wings ripped away and its hull blackened and punctured by Imperial fire rammed an Imperial cruiser.

Lord Captain Nuskov closed his eyes, and formed the sign of the Aquila on his chest, sending a silent prayer for the souls of the men who had just perished at the hands of the foul aliens. As he opened his eyes once more, he frowned. The cruiser was still semi intact, and was trying to limp away from the battle itself. He gave an order to try and communicate with the frigate, but the vessel was unresponsive to their attempts at beginning communication, but was still broadcasting information in broken streams.

“….core! The core is breached!” the voice of the vessels commander tried to scream over the communication ways. “….we’ve….away…..Repeat. Moving……core breach!”

Nuskov’s eyes went wide with realization. The entire fleet was moving at maximum speed towards a vessel with a warp core that was about to explode, potentially tearing a gateway into the Warp. They’d fly right into it, if not be sucked in, and already they were so close that they wouldn’t have time to stop, and flying in a formation so tight no ship could turn around without slamming into another. In other words, Battlegroup Lubya was doomed. Nuskov took a deep sigh as he saw the cruiser explode, and a rift of rolling energy opened up. Ships tried to pull away, but their attempts were in vain. One by one, the vessels were drawn into the wound in space, dragged screaming into the foul depth of the Warp. Nuskov closed his eyes for what he feared would be the last as his bridge was flooded with displays of impossible colors, tumbling and boiling as more and more ships were drawn to their doom.

Sweet, can't wait to read more. Crazy coinsadances that merge universes together are awsoem.

Subsribing to this thread...

First off, an apology to those who have been following this.....I've been a little busy as of late (mainly with new models to assemble and paint but with work and friends as well. ) and suffered a small bout of writer block as well. (I like to plan these things with an eye to the longrun heeheh) You should be able to expect much faster updates than this in the future, especially since I know where the hell I'll be going with this now...... Now, without further ado............


Chapter 1
Romulan Frontier
Warbird Terix Prime

The sleek, green warbird was the front line vessel in the Romulan Navy. It dwarfed even the Federation’s Galaxy class frontline vessels, and could out fight, or with its cloaking device, outrun nearly any ship in the entire galaxy. One on one, the Terix Prime would defeat nearly any ship in the known galaxy.

But it was those two words that were weighing heavily on Commander Mortak’s mind. Known galaxy. There was still so much out there that had yet to be explored, and who knew who else might be out there? The information blackout within the Empire prevented him from knowing for sure, but the Romulan commander had heard rumors. He had heard whispers of massive cubes wiping out entire fleets of the Federation’s finest, and blasting their way to Earth itself. The heart of the Federation, and a sight that he could hardly fathom fighting his way through without suffering casualties so heavy they would doom the Star Empire. But the ships he saw in front of him dwarfed even the most exaggerate description of the cube that had come s’o close to destroying the Federation.

The smallest were the size of his own vessel, and he felt he could take them on in battle and have a chance at victory…at least, one of them. The only problem was there seemed to be dozens of the smaller vessels abounding, and then he had to consider the larger ones. The biggest ship laid out in front of him was nearly five times the length of his warbird, and he had a nagging suspicion that the vessel could no doubt overwhelm anything the Empire had to throw at it.

Even then, it was not the sheer size of the vessel was not what made him feel true fear deep in his heart: it was their design. They were coated with spires, arches, and great statues, and many of these structures seemed to house great weapon, for long barrels extruded from many of the arches in a way that simply couldn’t be a peaceful manner.

“Science officer,” Mortak said quietly, glancing over his shoulder. “What is your analysis of the situation? What are these vessels? Who do they belong to?”

“Scans are inconclusive sir,” the Science Officer replied, turning away from her post for a second to respond to Mortak. “These vessels…..their armor are almost ridiculously thick. I’m only getting partial pictures of the interior of the vessel.”

Mortak sighed as he turned his attention back to the view screen, frustrated slightly at the lack of knowledge he had on this new threat. As a Romulan, he prided himself as always being able to outthink an enemy. To know the enemy well enough to win. To not know anything about the enemy he was facing was extremely discomforting, and something he wanted to rectify as quickly as possible.

“Open up a communications channel,” he ordered quietly, determined to see what the situation on board the vessel. “And prepare the cloaking device and warp drive for immediate use. I want to be able to escape the instant I want.” With a quick nod, he felt the engines of the vessel begin to spiral up, causing the very deck to tremble beneath him. He assumed a relaxed position, letting his hands hanging loosely at his side as he stared back at the view screen, waiting for whatever was on the bridge of those vessels to respond to him. He waited, and waited, and waited, and just as he was about to give up and return to Romulus to report his findings when his sensor officer began to panic.

“Sir! We have massive energy readings aboard several of the vessels!” he shouted, frantically running along his consoles, responding to whatever signals the warbirds array was feeding to the officer. “More readings!” he shouted back. “Dear God….” He said, pausing at a single console, as he tapped it slightly, trying to make sure the reading it was giving was correct. “This…this…this is impossible!”

“What is?” Mortak demanded, leaving his position at the center of the bridge to run to the sensor console. His sensor officer pointed at the read out he had been referring to, and Mortak’s jaw dropped. The energy readings of these vessels were off the scale! They were putting out more energy than should be physically possible, and several of the larger ones still seemed to be powering up. Mortak turned to look back at the view screen, and saw that the vessels were beginning to take up some kind of formation, and the smaller ones were maneuvering so that they were in a defensive screen around the larger ones at the very center of the fleet. The vessels were turning their running lights on, and the display that they projected only served to increase Mortak’s anxiety and fear. If they had been frightening and awe inspiring before, now….now they were terrifying and beautiful at the same time!

Now, he could see the heraldy that seemed to adorn each vessel. All but one were a dark green, with their mighty statues a brilliant gold, and their massive brows a near blinding white, marred with deep black holes, that Martok couldn’t help but feel were even more weapons on top of those housed alongside and above the ships. The one other vessel was left mostly with a grey skeleton, yet some parts were painted a deep royal blue, and while most of the vessels boasted a dark grey bird with two heads, this blue outlier had a white symbol, that almost resembled a cross section of pot. Martok frowned slightly as he studied the symbology, trying to think back to his old lessons on the history of the enemies that surrounded the Romulan Star Empire. His frown deepened as he remembered.

The double headed bird….an eagle if he remembered correctly was an ancient Imperial human symbol, used by many of the empires that had risen and fell in that planet’s history. The pot was an ancient human letter, in an even older language that apparently meant simply….the end.

As his brain processed this information, Martok’s frown was slowly replaced by a smile as he returned to the center of the bridge. Humans, no matter what new ships they travelled in,, were humans. Simple. Easy to understand. They would try and negotiate, and would avoid a battle. They would listen to him, and would no doubt follow his orders in an attempt to avoid starting a war with the Empire. Martok nodded, and put the smug, arrogant smile that his people seemed to be born with on his face as he nodded again at his communication officer. As the channel crackled and opened, there was only a small nagging doubt in his mind….how had the humans penetrated this far into the Empire? Why were they in a ship so much more massive and heavily armed than any other Federation starship ever encountered? He shrugged slightly. All those questions would be answered soon when these simple minded, basic humans answered his hail. He couldn’t help but grin even wider as the channel locked and opened, revealing (as he expected) a human officer. Martok stumbled over his smug, arrogant greeting as he studied the man on the other side of the communication screen. He was not in the simple, one piece uniform of a Starfleet officer, but was instead dressed in a far more ornate uniform; covered in medals and gold braid. The man’s face was itself a parody of the aesthetical love the Federation usually showed. It was heavily scarred, lined with what seemed like decades of anger and hardship. Just as Martok was about to demand some answers from this human, he heard him seem to flare red with anger and scream.

“DIE FOUL XENOS!” the human screamed. They were the last words Romulan Commander Martok ever heard.




Aboard the Ave Humanus , Lord Captain Nuskov turned on his subordinates, looking away from the expanding cloud of debris that had once been the xenos ship. His face was practically glowing red with anger, and his low, guttural growl was much more frightening than the scream he had just uttered.
“Gather the Tactica Command,” he ordered in that low growl. “And find out the where the Emperor we are!”

Woot, good job!

thank you! it's good to know i'm not a complete utter failure as a write.

Nice one, subscribed. You appear to have resolved some of the main points of argument already. I look forward to seeing where this one goes.

Good luck, and keep it going.

Thanks! I'll keep it coming then! Expect some more action again next chapter.

Additionally,

Chapter 2

Retribution class battleship Ave Humanus

Location Unknown

“You blind fanatic!” General Alexi Noskova said in an exasperated voice as he buried his head in his hands. The rest of Battlegroup Lubya stared at him in a range of emotions. Lord Captain Nuskov, the target of the General’s frustration looked so taken aback that he had yet to pull himself back together enough to merit a response. Lord Commissar Halvors, sitting at the General’s right hand side had anger growing in his eyes, and his hand was twitching towards the bolt pistol holstered along his side. The four other officers that together comprised the Battlegroup’s Tactica Command were staring at the General with either smoldering fury, or surprise depending on their loyalty to either of the senior officers.

“Would you mind explaining yourself, General?” Nuskov finally responded, having pulled himself together enough to throw out a response.

Noskova sank bank into his chair, still keeping his eyes locked on Nuskov. “Because, Captain,” he began, smirking slightly at the small put down the name of his naval colleague’s rank allowed him. “As much as it is our duty to serve the Emperor by slaying xenos wherever they are found, your course of action did not allow us to be used to our full potential.”

“What do you mean?” a Naval commander piped up, curious as to why the General believed the destruction of a xenos vessel could not be considered a full use of the potential of the Imperial Battlegroup. Noskova glanced over at the naval officer, smiling slightly at the display of initiative in the young man.

“Because, Commander, put quite simply: we are lost,” he said simply. “You all saw the damage reports,” he continued, standing up as he strode around the round table the Tactica Command sat at. “Most of our psykers are dead. Our astropaths have all either died or gone completely insane, and our Navigators can no longer sense the Astronomican,” he said, counting off the list of more subtle casualties and damage the fleet had sustained. He could almost smile as he saw the entirety of the Tactica Command pick up the reports that had been laid in front of them. Quite clearly, they had been tricked by the boundless descriptions of the valor that the men of the Imperial Navy had shown in repairing their damaged vessels so quickly, and had not read all the way through to the end of the document. Hidden away in the casualty lists, and not marked at all as being of any significance, were the names of almost every single psyker human in the Battlegroup, and a small report by a Navigator that declared his and his brethren’s inability to sense the Astronomican, as well as the odd perception that the Immaterium was somehow…..cleaner than what they were used to encountering.

There was a long silence among the members of the Tactica Command that lasted even after the last member of the council closed his report, and looked eyes with the Lord Captain. As the commander of the fleet, he was the de facto head of the command while the Battlegroup was in deep space, and now the entirety of the Command looked to him for an idea of how they should proceed. The reports in front of them had made the situation much more serious.

“Send for the Navigator, and any psyker still alive,” Nuskov finally ordered. “Let us talk to them personally.”


“ Navigator Patriarch Iasus Locanno, present m’Lord,” a servitor said in its emotionless voice before retreating back through the conference room door, and allowing the fleet’s senior navigator mutant to join the council. The council shifted slightly, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the mutant as possible. Despite the abhuman’s importance to the operation of the fleet, none of the true humans present were truly comfortable in its presence. Its pale, translucent skin seemed to flutter as it sat down, like it was a cape draping the Navigator’s spindly form. Its hardened black orbs where its eyes should be looked around the chamber along with the hollow socket in its forehead. As its eyes began their second past, the creature began to speak in a soft, nearly inaudible voice.

“You have summoned me to tell you what I can sense, have you not?” it asked.

“Yes we have,” Noskova said as he nodded over at his naval colleague. Lord Captain Nuskov stood up, trying his best to lock eyes with the Navigator.

“Your report indicated that you can no longer sense the Astronomican?” the naval officer demanded, trying to sound authoritative and in command of the situation.

“Yes,” the spindly mutant said through nearly closed lips. “The beacon of the blessed Emperor is gone from my sight. All I see is the Warp.”

“And what of your observation that the Immaterium is….clean?”

“CleanER,” the Navigator corrected, shifting slightly in his chair, and causing his skin to flutter again. “The Warp is still stained with the taint of Chaos, but it is not as hellish as it usually reveals itself.”

The Tactica Command glanced amongst themselves, unsure of how to respond. Eventually, General Noskova stood and turned to the Navigator. “Can you tell us where we are?” he asked.

“Unfortunately, not,” it replied. “Without the Astronomican’s Holy Light I can not determine our position.” The council almost devolved into conversations amongst themselves, trying to determine their next course of action when the Navigator spoke again.

“However,” he commented. “I can……guess at our location,” it continued hesitantly. “While we were travelling through the Warp,” it explained, glancing at the confused looks being sent at it. “I did not sense the Astronomican growing weaker. I only felt it vanish in an instant,” it continued. “I believe the Warp rift we entered did not send us mostly through space, but through time.”

“Which means….” Noskova said, a light dawning in his eyes.

“Which means that we may not be far from our original location. Close enough to pinpoint it with star charts of the sector.”

“Get on that immediately!” Captain Nuskov ordered one of his subordinates, seemingly happy at being able to get out of spending any more time with the mutant. The two lower ranked naval officers seemed to agree with their commanding officer’s opinion and rushed out of the council chamber to carry out their orders. Nuskov turned towards the Navigator again.

“Once we get our location,” he began. “Can you plot us a course for Lubya?” The Navigator nodded.

“With no access to the Astronomican…..” the Navigator began, only to be cut off by Nuskov waving his hand dismissively.

“Speed is no concern,” he said flatly. “We must get to Lubya. Discover how much in time we have travelled….and if there is still an Imperium left to serve,” he said menacingly. The Navigator nodded before gliding back out the same door it had entered, leaving Nuskov and Noskova alone in the Tactica Command. “General, a minute,” Nuskov said as his Guard counterpart turned to leave.

“What is it?” Noskova demanded, turning on his heel quickly.

“Forgive my blasphemy, Comrade General, but there is a very real possibility that the Imperium no longer exists, or has yet to be founded.”

Noskova nodded slightly. “Your blasphemy is forgiven,” he replied. “But what are you asking of me?”

“I am asking,” Nuskov replied quickly. “What our course of action should be if our worst fears are realized.”

There was a long moment of silence as both men considered the answer to the question just posed.

Neat, I'm a big fan of Fanfic. Kepp it comeing and Ill keep reading.

Subscribed and waiting for the next installment. This is epic stuff

Thank you so much everyone for your support. It's really very encouraging for me, and I'll do my best to keep up what I've started here. I'm sorry for the delay between posts here, but I've had a busy past few days. But....here you go. It's shorter than I would like, but I thought I found a nice cut off point.

Chapter 3

Retribution class battleship Ave Humanus

Lubyan System?

The Ave Humanus prowled ahead of the main battlegroup as its sensors probed out ahead of it, feeding data back to the vessels Machine Spirit. For the days and weeks before hand, the battlegroup had been jumping blind, travelling in jumps of a handful of light years each time. Each jump taking them closer to where they had estimated Lubya was. Throughout their journey they had encountered more of the xenos vessels that had stood in their path on the first day, and each time they had easily dispatched them. They had encountered planets boasting huge populations of the aliens, and the Battlegroup had purged each and everyone with the iron fist of the Imperial Guard, and the surgical slices of the Adeptus Astartes. From the ruins of these planets, the Techpriests of Mars had analyzed the foul, heretical records of the aliens, and had learned much of them.

The aliens called themselves romulans. They were one of many alien empires in this galaxy, and were enemies with almost all of them. They were a race dedicated to misinformation and deceit, and the Imperium had their fury redoubled. Not only were these…..romulans foul xenos, but they were foul xenos who could not even scrape up the honor to fight their enemies in true combat. The warriors of the Imperium would do what they had done for millennia. They would crush the aliens, and drive their race from the very memory of the universe.

Now, they had reached where the Navigator had estimated their beloved Lubya was, and what they had found horrified them. About the double planets of the Lubya system, hundreds of the green xenos vessels orbited. Lord Captain Nuskov’s grip on his command throne tightened as he stared out the bridge windows onto the planet he had been sworn to protect and shelter on behalf of humanities Holy God-Emperor, and now he was seeing the planet of Lubya surrounded by alien warships and its surface defiled by the feet of the same. His duty as an officer of the Imperial Navy was clear.

“Prepare all torpedoes, charge the lances and load the main batteries!” he ordered, standing up in his throne as his bridge crew scurried around below him, rushing to fulfill their orders. He looked over at the communications officer and nodded. “Order the carriers to launch their fighters and bombers as soon as possible. We need them to cover the Guard’s transports once they make their run for the surface.” The communications officer nodded and turned to his console. Nuskov looked out from the bridge and smiled. All around him, the ships of Battlegroup Lubya were forming up into a long thin line with the battleships and cruisers in the center and protected by light cruisers leading squadrons of frigates and destroyed at the edges of the formation.

“All ahead full. Order all ships to begin firing torpedoes at the enemy fleet,” he ordered, glancing at the screen as the ships engines rumbled beneath his feet, pushing the massive battleship forward at greater and greater velocities. As they closed, Nuskov smirked slightly as he stared at the battleships armored prow nearly 3 miles away from where he sat. He could see the blobs of green that were the romulan’s projectile weapons smashing into the prow, cratering and blackening the adamantium and ceramite of the armor. “The xenos have fired first,” he said quietly. “Let us return their fire,” he ordered, nodding at the weapons and communication officers. In the space around the fleet, hails of torpedoes left the bow tubes and sent the massive projectiles storming down range towards the green-grey orb of Lubya.

“Close the range, and prepare to form the battle line once we get within range,” Nuskov continued, turning absent mindedly away from the pinpricks of light in the distance that were torpedoes impacting on the strange xenos ships, causing thousands of their lives to be obliterated in an instant as the plasma warheads vaporized their way into ammunition stores and reactor rooms. Even from this distance, Nuskov could see that a huge gap had been ripped in the wall of the alien formation; a gap that they were desperately trying to fill. He smirked slightly as he saw the unassuming Imperial Guard transports forming up within the battle line. The plan in store for them was simple. The Imperial Navy would rip holes in the enemy fleet, and the transports would soar through the holes to land on the planet, and given the warrior prowess that these aliens had shown both Nuskov and Noskova couldn’t help but expect a quick and easy victory.

“Enemy capital ships within striking distance,” the sensor officer called out.

Nuskov nodded slowly as he stared out into space. “Have the entire fleet break to starboard. Fire everything you have, lances, weapons batteries… Everything,” he ordered, turning his command throne so he could see the stars wheeling as the vessels mighty thrusters fired. He could almost feel the clangs and tremors that travelled along the battleship’s hull as crewmen deep in the bowels loaded shells and charged energy weapons.

“Enemy ships firing with beam weapons,” the ships tactics officer called in. “Escort squadrons are reporting shield damage. It appears the xenos are targeting them as opposed to our battleships.

“So they actually can learn,” Nuskov joked as his eyes stay locked on the wall of green vessels approaching faster and faster. Green beams and bolts of energy left their hulls and splatter harmlessly against the void shields of the escorts. “Let us complete their lesson. That they can not hope to stand against the might of humanity,” the Lord Captain lectured to no one in particular. He turned back to the bridge grew with the gleam of victory in his eyes. “All ships. Fire.”

In the dark void of space, the vast gunports of the Imperial battleships had been silent. Until now. As one, the Imperial fleet loosed every weapon they had at their disposal. Massive shells left their barrels and shattered romulan deflector shields. Laser beams melted hull plate and pierced vital areas, sending dozens of warbirds to their doom in a flash of energy. The pure energy of the lances sent more of the romulan vessels to join their doomed sisters as slowly expanding clouds of debris. Streams of fighters and bomber streaked through the shattered wall of ships, and picked off any ships that had somehow the wall of death that the Imperial Navy had unleashed. Squadrons of Cobra destroyers broke off from the battle line and closed in on the remains of the fleet and picked off ship after ship with hails of their torpedoes. Weapons that would have been mere annoyances to an Imperial battleship easily shearing through the thin hulls of the enemy like an Eviscerator through unprotected flesh. With more than half their number dead, and dozens of small craft forcing them to break their formation in order to survive, the xenos morale broke, and their fleet scattered into the depths of space. Some fell back towards the planet, hoping to make a last stand while other groups fled away into deep space using whatever heretical technology they possessed. Within the Imperial fleet, the massive transports of the Imperial Guard broke formation and charged straight at the planet. With an Astartes strike cruiser at the head of their charge, picking off any surviving xenos warships with its bombardment cannon and weapons, the transports closed with the planet.

Within the transports Valkyrie dropships were brought into launch positions within massive hangar bays, and their payloads of Stormtroopers lined up to enter their vessels. Guardsmen checked their lasguns one last time, and took their final blessings from their regiments priests and chaplains. Some listened to readings of the Litany of Hate by the Commissars, preparing themselves for the cleansing of yet another world from xenos filth. For many of these Guardsmen, the Commissars had a special trick of speech up their sleeves.

“You, men and women of Lubya!” they cried, drawing the attention of almost every Guardsmen of the Lubyankan Mobile Regiments. “This world is your home! Your home that has been desecrated by the filthy feet of xenos!” the continued, eliciting vows of vengeance from the members of nearly every single Lubyan Guardsmen, and even some shouts from those Guardsmen not from the planet. “You will cleanse your home! Kill every xenos! And win a place for your banner in the halls of the Holy God-Emperor himself!” they shouted, almost deafening the ears of everyone on board with the screams and cheers of the Guardsmen. They returned to their final preparations with an almost doubled and doubled again effort. With anger fueling their every step and move, tankers sealed themselves into their Baneblades, Leman Russes and Chimeras. Artillery men readied their Basilisks for war, and basic Guardsmen did nothing more than tighten their helmets and arm their weapons. Outside the hull of the transports, the first wave of Valkyries left the launch decks, following waves of fighters and bombers heading through to the surface. The strike cruiser brought itself above the best guess the Imperium had as to the location of the planet’s command center and began loosing drop pods and Thunderhawks. Beneath them, the people of the world they knew as Romulus trembled in fear. Soldiers clutched their distruptor pistols and hoped they would do better on ground than the fleet had in space. Civilians crowded into their homes, and the Praetor himself looked onto a great hologram of the planet. With a final sigh, he watched the last markers for the warbirds of the fleet above the planet flicker and die. He looked over at the man who controlled the communications for the Romulan Senate itself, and gave him a simple order.


USS Enterprise-D

Romulan Neutral Zone Patrol

“Sir,” Data said in his standard emotionless voice as he glanced down at his console. “We are receiving a very strange signal from Romulus,” he said, turning around to look back at his commanding officer. “It bears the signature of the Romulan Praetor itself.”

Captain Jean-Luc Picard looked at Data with surprise. To his knowledge, this was the first time any Starfleet vessel had been contacted directly by Romulus, let alone by so high ranking a man as the Praetor of the Romulan Star Empire.

“What is the nature of this…message?” he asked.

“It is a distress call, sir,” Data replied simply.

Interesting... what about the ship portrayed in the latest star-trek reboot? Are you going to bring that in? I daresay red matter would have a pretty devastating effect on the Imperial fleet. It might even bring them down to a reasonably even strength.

Still, however you want it, exept for one thing:

You must, repeat must bring the Q continuum into this.

Dastardly Dave wrote:Interesting... what about the ship portrayed in the latest star-trek reboot? Are you going to bring that in? I daresay red matter would have a pretty devastating effect on the Imperial fleet. It might even bring them down to a reasonably even strength.

Still, however you want it, exept for one thing:

You must, repeat must bring the Q continuum into this.

Might bring them down to a reasonable even strength? Red Matter creates a BLACK HOLE! It would suck every single Imperial warship straight in there and crush them into nothingness.

And really? The Q continuum?

Anyways, keep up the epic work ChrisWWII. This is great stuff ur writing. I"m especially loving the Romulans finally getting their butts kicked.

Yes, the Q continuum. I'd love to see how the Imperials react when Q stops their entire fleet, gets inside their ship and is impervious to weaponry. Then he subjects them all to a trial of being a barbaric race a la Encounter at Farpoint. I'd just laugh.

EDIT: He'd also need to dress as a Space Marine.

Hmmmm....... or instead of the trial, Q could just pose at the Emperor and have them all worship him

As for Q:

And I'm not planning on using the new continuity. I'm using the regular Star Trek time line so no red matter unfortunately.

And thank you guys so much for reading. It's really a good feeling to get such a great reception on my first writing try. =)

Nice writing but I am disappointed with the showing of the Trek Ships versus the Imperial ships.

Trek ships are faster and have more precise weaponry. They should at least be taking a toll on the Escorts and not merely doing minor shield damage.

But please carry on.

p.s. Even if Romulus doe turn out to be Lubya it will soon be destroyed in the original continuity.

p.p.s. I suppose the Q could be the only ones who could possibly send the Imperials back where they belong.

Die Romulans Die!!! But then again.... NO JEAN-LUC... DON'T DO IT... IT'S A TRAP!!!!

Is it possible to add to this in story form, or is this your pet project?

This stuff is good.

IGLannister wrote:Is it possible to add to this in story form, or is this your pet project?

It is my pet project, but if you have ideas or have similar things you'd want pm them to me! I'd be more than happy to put it in (with you fully accredited of course )

On a side note, sorry about the long time between story updates here.

a) I'm trying to get my IG army all nicely assembled, painted and based before the tournament coming up.

b) Land battles are HARD to write. x.X At least for me. I have a mild case of writer's block right now, but bear with me! I'll get the plot moving along again soon.

Land Battles are easy. Watch.

The Imperial High Regimental Commanders deployed their Leman Russ regiments to the south of the river. Jean-Luc Picard deployed his redshirts to the ridge in the north-east.
The Imperium emerged victorious after 3.2 Minutes.

This is quite entertaining, I hope to see more

Data being violated by the ad-mech might be interesting

SilverMK2 wrote:This is quite entertaining, I hope to see more

Data being violated by the ad-mech might be interesting

Eh, just give them Lore and the Borg instead.

You should put in the Borg! That would be EPIC!

ShadowAngel159 wrote:You should put in the Borg! That would be EPIC!

The Borg have been mentioned, so I am hoping they will play a part later on

I still like it, cant wait for more.

Your writing it pretty much the same way i would have, with lots of ass kicking.

well, here it is.....apologies that it took so long. 4th of july celebrations tend to put a bit of a dampner on my writing time.

in any case, just to clear up a question i feel that needs answering, in my fluff, each lubyan regiment that has distinguished itself in battle gets a regimental song as a badge of honor. to the regiment, this song is as great a rallying point as an imperial hero or their own standard. for the 707th, their song is this (song starts at 1:00) :




yes, i know they shouldn't have copies of terran music in the 41st millenia, but i find the idea of guardsmen marching to war shouting this song at the top of their lungs to be epic. =P


Chapter 4

707th Lubyan Mobile Regiment, Cadia Company

Near Xenos Government Building

Trooper Ilya Casaya clutched her lasgun tightly as she popped her head above the piece of wrecked building she had been covering behind. In front of her, the xenos invaders of her beloved world were holding the rest of the building’s ruins. They were popping in and out from behind cover, and sending quick pulses of green energy back that the Guardsmen. A few of her squadmates lay dead around her, struck in the chest with the streams that the xenos’s weapons emitted. All in all, she thought, this battle had gone well for the Guard. The xenos defenders of their world were not true soldiers, and had quickly fallen to the professional attacks of the Imperial Guard and Astartes. Armed with nothing more than pistols, they had stood little chance. They had been torn apart by lasgun, bolter, and tank tread alike. Unfortunately, fighting in the ruins of a city allowed even the most unprofessional, ill equipped army could hold out for a long time, and she was beginning to curse the long range Basilisk fire that had created the ruins in the first place.

“Move up!” she heard shouted from behind her. She turned around to see her squad sergeant brandishing his chainsword as he sent several blasts from his laspistol forward. Behind the squad, a heavy weapons squad opened up, sending dozens of heavy bolter and autocannon rounds smashing into the barricades that the enemy had sheltered behind. Ilya paused for a moment to lock her combat knife onto her lasgun’s lugs, prepping herself for the nightmare of close combat that she was no doubt about to enter. Screaming battle cries of the Imperium, and Lubya, she and her fellow Guardsmen charged the final line of xenos resistance. Behind them, lines of Leman Russ battle tanks advanced as well, pouring salvo after salvo into the romulan resistance, and burying the xenos defenders underneath the rubble of their own barricades.

With bayonet, knife, chainsword, and lasgun, the Imperial Guard cleansed the xenos from existence. It was a close range, hand to hand duel. Some fights even taking place with the bare hands and teeth of the Guardsmen. The xenos defenders had hoped that this close range fight would shelter them from the punishing long range fire of the Imperial tanks and artillery. What madmen would shell their own troops? Even before the Basilisks and Leman Russ’s continue their relentless bombardment, killing Guardsmen and alien alike, the romulans knew they were doomed. They knew it when the first roar of a chainsword took of the head of a young defender. They knew it when gouts of flame tore from the flamers of the Guard and burned them alive in their bunkers. They knew it when the first Baneblade rolled down the streets of their capital city, and put a shell into the Senate Hall.

Holding her lasgun ahead of her like a spear, Ilya skewered one of the romulan defenders. Her face was hard as the alien clutched at the wound in its belly, and with the same mask she yanked the bayonet free and clubbed the alien’s skull in with the butt of her lasun. Ahead of her, she could see her squad’s sergeant brandishing his chainsword as he sliced another xenos in two. He swung again, slicing yet another romulan in half from shoulder to waist, the whirring teeth of the chainsword sending chunks of gore flying. He finally looked back at her, and their eyes met for a split second. His face splattered green with the alien blood, the sergeant brandished his sword again.

“Forward!” he cried. “Forward you….” He began, but never finished as a lance of green energy vaporized his head. His smoking corpse slumped to the ground, and Ilya followed it, going to ground as fast as she could. Even then, she felt the ambient heat of the passing blast of a xenos firearm, and the sudden chill on her head as the blast ripped her helmet away. She stood again, brown hair falling from its well kept place as she charged yet again, hundreds of her comrades behind her. She let go of her lasgun for a split second so she could prime a frag grenade, and hurled it into a mass of aliens. The resultant blast coated her with their blood. Her face was glowering in fury as she shot, hacked and fought her way through the xenos lines. In the confusion, somehow she found herself side to side with her company’s standard bearer. A giant of a man waving the flag of the 707th high above as he gestured forward with his power sword clutched in an augmentic arm. As he stood to lead yet another charge, a blast of green energy smashed into his chest. It vaporized flak armor and burned deeper into his torso. The man collapsed, leaning on the company banner before it too began to fall. Without a second thought, she threw away her lasgun and grabbed hold of the banner. She charged forward, ignoring the green blasts of energy that flew all around her. Behind her, she could hear the sounds of the orchestra of war. Massed lasgun fire gave the strings, while the chatter of heavy bolter fire kept time. The shots of Baneblade, Leman Russ and Basilisk gave the bass, and in the din of the symphony, she could almost swear she could hear the faint strings of the regimental song. With determination burning in her eyes, she smashed a romulan with the staff of the flag before impaling it through the rubble of the alien government building. With tears in her eyes, she joined her comrades in song.

Romulan Senate Building

Praetor’s Chamber

The Praetor of the Romulan Star Empire clutched to his seat of office as the whole building shook once more. He could already tell that this was the end. On the hologram in front of him that depicted his precious world of Romulus, lights that showed the position of Romulan land units had faded out. More and more vital cities, shipyards and factories had been overrun and annihilated by the invaders. He shook his head as he stood to pace around the room.

‘How could it come to this?’ he thought to himself. ‘Our Empire brought low by invaders we know nothing about,’ he paused for a second to think about that statement. ‘Almost nothing,’ he corrected mentally. He knew that they were humans, but these humans were so unlike the Federation weaklings he had dealt with his entire career that he almost thought of these invading humans as a new species; one completely different from the original line. The building shook again as yet another shell struck it, and the Praetor could hear a part of the great Senate Hall itself collapse and fall in. He heard screams of Senators and their bodyguards who were crushed beneath the falling stones of the very heart of the Romulan Star Empire. He sat back down in his seat, sighing yet again as he heard the explosions from outside. He knew the end was near, and he was ready to face that end. He clutched the distruptor pistol on his desk tightly as he stared at the door, letting his mind drift away from the situation at hand as he tried to organize his final thoughts. He glanced around his office, noting that the distress signal was still going, and more importantly, that it was useless. No matter who received the distress call and what they did it was too late for Romulus. Too late for his people. Too late for….

But his thoughts were interrupted by a crash so loud it couldn’t have happened outside. It had to have happened within the Senate Hall itself; inside the corridor leading to his chamber in fact. Outside, he heard a series of thuds and a loud roar that drowned out the screams of the guards stationed outside his chamber. With another bang, the doors flew open and a giant entered the room. The thing was shaped like a humanoid, but was simply too massive to be a human. It was covered in great plates of armor, and massive pauldrons on his shoulders. The giant carried a massive gun in one hand, and some kind of sword in the other. The weapon was giving a gently clattering sound as huge teeth rotated slowly. The Praetor grabbed his distruptor and fired. The green blast struck the giant straight on the head, and deflected harmlessly of its armor. The giant raised his sword and shouted something. The exact words were lost on the Praetor as the chainsword embedded itself in his skull.

USS Enterprise-D

Romulan Neutral Zone

“A distress signal?” Picard repeated, a small strain of disbelief entering his voice.

“That is correct sir,” Data replied, nodding slightly. “The signal claims that Romulus is under attack by invaders of an unknown origin. They request whatever aid the Federation can provide.”
Picard stared out into the void ahead of him, seemingly unsure of what course to take. Finally, he looked out at the main viewscreen. “Dispatch a message to Starfleet command,” he ordered. “Inform them of our course and action, and attach a copy of the Romulan distress call to the message. Mr. Data, set a course for Romulus. Maximum warp.” There was a small flurry of movement as the bridge officers moved to comply with their captain’s orders. As the flurry died down, Picard leaned back in his chair, and with a simple motion of his hand gave his trademark order. “Engage.”

Outside, the stars stretched into long thin lines as the great vessel accelerated to warp speed, and the Enterprise began to tremble as the warp core spiraled up. All of it was replaced by a brilliant flash of light that left the Enterprise silent and drifting in the void, with no stars in sight on the viewscreen. Standing in front of the viewscreen was a figure dressed in the uniform of a Starfleet officer.

“Bonjour, mon Capitan!” Q said happily, smiling happily at Picard.

“What do you want Q?” Picard demanded, barely even looking at the alien. “I have much more important things to worry about than you.”

“Oh, I know,” he cheerfully replied. “And I come to offer you some advice on dealing with those problems.” Q paused, waiting for Picard to notice and turn back to pay attention to him. “That advice is: ‘Don’t bother’. Turn around. Run back home to your little planet, and hope that the Imperium doesn’t try and follow you.”

“The what?” Commander Riker demanded from his chair.

“The Imperium!” Q repeated. “The Imperium of….oh, how could I have forgotten! They’re tens of millennia into your future!” he continued on with a small tap of his hand to his forehead. “But let’s just say that if the Federation is the ‘best’ humanity can offer, then the Imperium is the worst.”

“I don’t have time for your games Q!” Picard snapped. “Stop talking in riddles, or get off my ship!”

“Very well,” Q said with a sigh, vanishing in a flash of light, and reappearing again. This time he was dressed in a uniform that seemed to come out of the ancient histories of Earth. Q wore a black great coat with red trimmings over a black uniform and a red sash with a high peaked hat adorning his head. “You aren’t facing some new alien menace, Picard,” Q replied, advancing on the Captain of the Enterprise. “You’re facing a dark reflection of yourself. Humanity millennia and millennia into the future.” Q smirked as he vanished again, this time reappearing in a suit of massive power armor. He dwarfed Picard, Riker, and even Worf as he flexed his hands. “The Imperium has moved beyond your hallowed principles of negotiation and peace, and does whatever it has to do to survive. And when I say ‘whatever’, I mean whatever,” he said as he locked eyes with Picard. “They’ve forgotten whatever promises your values offered, and replaced them with violence.” The captain started, only to be silenced as Q placed a massive armored finger against Picard’s mouth. “I know what you’re about to ask. You’re about to ask if this is all a massive charade. Another part of my ongoing trial of humanity. I’d just like you to know that it’s not. Their appearance was not expected. Not even by me!” he admitted. Picard stood unmoving for a second, not knowing how to respond to the revelation that something had occurred outside of even Q’s devious master plan.

“Why are you here then?” Picard finally managed to ask. “To warn us? To help us?”

“I can’t ‘help’ you, Picard,” Q admonished, like a parent lecturing a child who had reasked the same question again and again. “No, I can’t help. But I can advise.”

“And your advice is, Q?”

“I’ve already given it to you,” he said with a shrug of his ridiculously massive shoulders before reappearing as his normal self. “Turn around. Run for home, and hope that the Imperium doesn’t follow you.”

“And abandon the Romulans?” Riker demanded.

“Dishounourable they may be, but what honor is there in ignoring the pleas of the innocent?” Worf demanded, his voice angry.

“Oh trust me,” Q said with a smirk. “By the time you arrive there won’t be any Romulans to save.” With a final wink, he vanished, and the Enterprise reappeared in warp flight. Considering Q’s words, Picard looked out to the screen in front of him.

“What is our course, Mr. Data?”

“The same as before Q’s interference sir,” the android officer replied.

“Continue course for Romulus. Increase speed to whatever you can squeeze from the warp core,” he barked as he sat down in his command chair. “And take the ship to red alert.”

Loving it

I also think that your writing has improved since the last section - nothing specific, but it was just easier to read and had a better flow. Keep it up!

This just keeps getting better and better

Great Job