TAG NOTE:  This is my go at a Star Trek/Wars crossover.  Please tell me        
       
how it goes.  Note it's in several parts.

Please note that some of the characters, colonies, and the entire 
storyline is copyright(1995) to Raymond N. Cooper.  This story can be sent
anywhere, so long as I am credited as author, and this tag remains here...
		
		A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

				 STAR WARS


				CHAPTER VII
			       A NEW ENEMY...


	       It is a time of great celebration for the
	       old Rebel Alliance, as the leaders of the 
	       Rebellion form the core Senatorsof the 
	       fledgling New Republic...

	       But the Empire is not defeated yet...
	       In a star system far from the Republican
	       seat of power, Coruscant, the Imperial 
	       forces are regrouping for a counter-
	       attack.  Leading them is Admiral Jan
	       Tyran, an almost legendary strategist.

	       With Imperial Star Destroyers still moving 
	       out of hyperspace, Tyran hopes to mount his 
	       offensive within a matter of days...

	       Information is still trickling in to the
	       New Republic Intelligence Bureau about the 
	       proposed assault, but no hard news has been 
	       delivered yet.





   "Admiral on the bridge!" a stormtrooper called out suddenly.  Ensigns 
scrambled to their stations, dropping impromptu card games, stashing secrets 
away in their uniforms.  Admiral Tyran was well-known to be lax about such 
things as discipline, but it wasn't the done thing to have an Imperial 
Admiral walk in on you playing cards on duty.
   At the far end of the bridge, the entrance opened, admitting the Admiral.  
Standing roughly one point eight metres in height, Admiral Tyran cut an 
imposing figure.  His uniform was spotless, Imperial standard creases visible 
in certain places.  Medals jangled from his chest, here an Imperial Cluster, 
for the strike back at the Rebel scum after the Yavin-4 fiasco, there a 
Madillin Star for bravery beyond the call of duty.  That one was for saving 
the Emperor.  Hooded eyes swept the command pit, observing the remains of 
games all around.  Tyran didn't mind the crew playing games, as long as 
efficiency ratings didn't fall below the Imperial standard.  
   He motioned to the Star Destroyer's Captain.
   "Larod, how long before the outermost parts of the attack fleet arrive?"
   Larod consulted a Lieutenant in the pit.  "Approximately thirty-one hours, 
Admiral."  He went to say something more, then halted.
   "Status, Captain."
   Larod had been waiting for this.  "We have seventeen Star Destroyers here, 
each carrying an assortment of two thousand TIE Fighters, TIE Bombers, TIE 
Interceptors, Assault Gunboats, forty AT-ATs, twenty AT-STs, and fourteen 
AT-PTs.  Engineering reports readiness in deflector shields, cloaking device, 
tractors, hyperdrive, and turbolasers.  All Destroyers crewed with 
approximately thirty-seven thousand crew."  He paused.  "And we have 
Lambda-class assault shuttles on each vessel.  A total of eighty-five assault 
shuttles.  Plus thirty-four gamma-class shuttles."
   Tyran nodded.  "Inform the other Destroyers here that we shall be leaving 
now.  Coruscant hasn't yet had the chance to prepare itself for any kind of 
assault, and seventeen Star Destroyers are more than a match for the three 
capital ships the Rebels have in orbit."
   "Intelligence reports two more Mon Calamari cruisers will be in orbit of 
Coruscant by fourteen hundred thirty tomorrow, along with a Dreadnought, and 
four Corellian Corvettes.  And don't forget Coruscant's orbital defense 
network.  The Coruscant ODN was designed to be impregnable.  And Intelligence 
also reports that's operational."
   "You have been in contact with Imperial Intelligence?" Tyran asked 
quickly.  Lorad paled.  "Good, saves me a call.  Did they say whether the 
Rebels have found out about this attack yet?"
   Lorad shook his head.  "No.  But they confirm Skywalker, Organa, and Solo 
are away.  And they have heard rumours that the Rebels have captured Star 
Destroyers under their control."
   "Still, we can have the others join us at the battle, hmm?"  Tyran waited 
for Lorad's confirmation from Tactical.  "We will therefore take leave of 
this place.  Inform the other Captains we will be leaving for Coruscant 
within an hour.  I'll be in my quarters."
   With that, the Admiral turned on his heel, and left.  
   Lorad moved to Communications.  "Get me the Doomsday..."
				******

   Seeing seventeen Star Destroyers move into hyperspace was not a sight to 
be seen commonly, even when the Empire was at its greatest.  The Deathwing 
led, with the Doomsday and Spearwatch flying flanking positions, the 
Runamuck, Lodestone, Dark Knight and Dark Angel in a rearward position.  
Behind them came the main force: the Avenger, the Stormwatch, the Guardian, 
the Armadillo, the Blasphemer, the Blindfold, the Cerberus, the Ominous, 
the Nightfall, and the Hammerhead.  All moved through hyperspace at a Star 
Destroyer's top speed of one hundred twenty-eight light years an hour.
   But in front of the convoy, something... happened.  Something began to 
warp the fabric of space/time, ripping a hole between here and there, between 
now and then.  Gravity, for some reason, concentrated itself in this area, 
ripping space itself apart.  This anomaly is more commonly known as a 
wormhole.
   No one saw the seventeen Star Destroyers disappear into another galaxy.  
No one ever found out what happened to Admiral Tyran.  No one in this 
galaxy...



				CHAPTER ONE

   Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation starship USS Enterprise studied 
the reports that had come in since his last shift.  Romulans moving up and 
down the Neutral Zone, making attempts to get through the tachyon detection 
grid.  A possible Borg sighting near Bajoran space, and a possible related 
incident of a Cardassian fleet running from Bajoran space after a Borg 
battlecube turned up.  Picard tagged that for further reading.
   What else?  He scanned his padd, but nothing jumped out of the screen at 
him.  Picard got out of his chair, and headed for the bridge.  The crew sat 
calmly, collected, going about their jobs efficiently, as the Captain sat in 
his chair.  He turned his gaze from the viewscreen to his First Officer.  
"Nothing exciting?" He asked, a smile on his face.
   William T. Riker smiled in return, his child-like face wrinkling under 
his beard.  "No, sir.  Nothing.  I would've thought Starfleet would have had 
us doing something by now."
   "Mmm.  They usually do, Number One.  But not this time, it seems."  The 
Captain stood.  "I think I'll... catch up on some reading."  He began to 
leave.
   "Incoming message from Starfleet, Captain."
   Picard sighed; it looked like Henry VIII would have to wait.  Again.  
"On screen, Mister Worf."
   The mainscreen's starfield was replaced by the picture of Admiral Karol, 
a balding, over weight male human.  He peered out of the screen, as if short-
sighted.
   "Ah, Captain.  I hope you're not doing anything important...?"
   "No, sir, we're not," Picard answered, returning to his chair.
   "Well, then, we have a mission for you.  Have you ever heard of the 
T'Ruffen colony, near Hydras-Beta?"
   "Yes," Picard nodded.  "The mining world?"
   "Correct.  We... seem to have lost contact with the colony there, all-in-
all, about three thousand people.  You're the closest ship in the area; well, 
Starfleet ship, that is, and we'd like you to take a look for us."
   "Of course, Admiral.  Do you have any idea what we can expect?"
   The Admiral sighed.  "Unfortunately, we can't say.  It could be a faulty 
transmitter, a broken power conduit, or it could be..."
   "Something more sinister?" Picard queried.
   "Exactly.  Not only are you the closest ship, but you're also the most 
powerful starship within a four sector radius."  Karol glanced off screen, 
and picked up a padd.  "If you need help, we can also send the... Faragut, 
the Grissom, and the Copernicus.  If you require assistance.  Karol out."
   The picture faded, replaced in turn by the outside starfield.
   "Mister Data, set a course for the T'Ruffen colony.  Warp seven."  He 
turned and left the bridge.  "Inform me when we arrive, Mister Data."
				******

   The T'Ruffen colony, on the fourth planet from Hydras-Beta, shuddered 
under heavy attack.  Colonists ran to and fro, trying to hide from falling 
chunks of plastic and metal, sizzling curcuits dropping out of the ceilings.  
   Outside, phaser blast after phaser blast fired at the towering attackers.  
But, relentlessly, the enemy came on.  Walkers, moving on four powerful legs, 
fired laser blasts, one after another, from the head-mounted cannons.
   This was an Imperial All Terrain Armoured Transport, a heavy ground-
assault vehicle.  And it was doing its job just fine.
   "Commander Fawnj to Admiral Tyran.  We have neutralised all defenses.  You 
can begin the troop landings."  The Commander stretched out an arm, and 
activated the intercom to the rear of the AT-AT.  "Speeder bike group Alpha, 
prepare for your attack run."
   "Copy," came the reply.  A door in the side of the AT-AT opened, and four 
speeder bikes streaked out of the behemoth, heading for the ground.  Skimming 
the surface, they rushed at the colony, firing into crowds, and rounding 
them up.  
   Five minutes later, two thousand five hundred people had been gathered.  
The rest were dead.  One of the colonists looked skywards, saw something 
flash, and tapped the person next to him's shoulder.  
   The sparkle resolved itself into a group of shuttles.  Slim wings pulled 
up as the lead angular ship nuzzled in close to the ground.  Underneath the 
cockpit, a hatch opened, dropping a ramp down to the ground.  Soldiers in 
white bone-like armour ran down the ramp, dropping into defense positions 
until two AT-ATs moved in covering positions.  A small two-legged walker, an 
AT-ST, circled the crowd.
   Slowly, the other shuttles touched down, ramps opened, and stormtroopers 
took up their assigned positions.  Guns pointed expertly into the crowd, each 
trooper covering the maximum amount of people possible with the smallest 
firing arc.
   From the lead shuttle, footsteps pounded down the ramp.  Feet came into 
view, then a grey uniform, medals covering the chest.  Then a face, intensely 
cunning, wise, and hard.  
   "Good work, Major," he murmured to a nearby stormtrooper.  The trooper 
nodded acknowledgement.
   "Peoples of this planet," Tyran said, raising his voice so the whole crowd 
could hear him.  "You are now under Imperial control.  You no longer belong 
to whatever kind of interstellar government you used to subscribe to.  You
will now follow Imperial commands.  Do as you are told, and no harm shall 
come to you.  Do otherwise..." Tyran gazed callously around the crowd, 
staring pointedly at dead bodies.  He didn't like the sight of human death 
any more than the colonists did, but, for the sake of subjugating the colony,
rebuilding - as it were - Imperial territory, building a power base, he 
pretended to be callous.  "I am taking my leave of this planet, but I shall
leave behind a Governor, and stormtroopers.  Any form of rebellion will be
ruthlessly exterminated.  Utterly."  He turned, and walked back up the
shuttle's ramp.

   "To the Deathwing, sir?" the pilot asked Tyran, as he took the co-pilot's
seat.  
   "Hmmm," Tyran agreed.  He stared down at the colonists.  The technology,
he hadn't seen before.  He'd though when they'd come out of hyperspace that
they'd been transported to the Outer Rim territories, but he hadn't heard
anything like this on the Rim.  Astrogation was mapping the stars now, 
trying to find out where the fleet had turned up.  
   Tyran glanced at his wrist chronometer.  By now, if everything had gone
to plan, the Rebels had been chased off Coruscant.  And why shouldn't it go
to plan?  There where some good tacticians in the ships that hadn't 
rendez-voused with the main fleet.  But seven Star Destroyers against five
Mon Calamari cruisers... Coreelian Corvettes... the Coruscant ODN...
   That was something that seemed strange, though.  There was no deflector
shield surrounding the planet below.  No orbital defense stations.  No
capital ships in orbit to protect to mining colony.
   The only thing in orbit that could have been classed as defense was an old
ship, box-like, with large thrusters protruding from the rear.  It didn't
have any noticable weapons, at least, until it fired.  Then, power 
distribution nodes, and phased relay systems had been located.  Minimal
damage had been taken on the shields, and impact damage had been taken, but
the vessel had been destroyed, a single turbolaser blast cutting through what
passed for shields (a pitiful attempt at matter/energy shielding), and 
destroyed an anti-matter engine.  Or turbine.  Or something.  Anti-matter.
An unstable form of matter, well, not matter, but close enough... The Empire
never used it, it was too dangerous.
   The shuttle docked with the Star Destroyer Deathwing.  The sleek grace and
efficiency of Imperial technology never ceased to amaze Tyran, and now was no 
different.  Repair crews swarmed over shuttles and equipment as the shuttle's
ramp extended, and the Admiral walked down it, onto the hangar deck.
   Pausing only to admire the speed of the technicians and engineers, Tyran
hurried to the bridge, brushing dust from the planet off his uniform.
   "Admiral on the bridge!" the stormtrooper announced as the bridge doors
opened.
   Outside the windows, the Lodestone and the Hammerhead hung close by.
The Admiral comforted himself with the fact that he was not going to be
taken by surprise.  After all, if all this... what was it that the colony's
leader had called it?... ah yes, this Federation could throw at them was
broken down old ships, then three Star Destroyers would triumph.  Easily.
   Captain Lorad approached Tyran.  "Admiral, our Probots have detected a
possible enemy craft moving towards us... moving just outside of realspace,
Sir."
   "Have you forwarded the information to the Science units?"
   "Yes.  The engineers claim that kind of travel is impossible.  However..."
   "Go on..."
   Lorad cleared his throat.  "However, they say that if someone could build 
a shield system like on that ship, and the engine structure - which they're
still analysing - and use anti-matter for some kind of unknown purpose...
then perhaps extra-dimensional high speed travel is possible."
   Tyran absorbed this information.  "And what is its ETA?"
   "According to the Probots, it should be here any moment..."  Lorad turned
to look out at the stars.
				CHAPTER 2

   "Aye, Captain, slowing to impulse."
   Captain Picard stared out at the approaching planet.  Something wasn't 
right.  By now, they should have had even a radio message from the colony.
But nothing.  Silence...
   "Is there anything there?" he asked to no one in particular.
   Data studied his console.  "I can find no subspace signals coming from
the planet's surface, Captain.  There are also no subspace signals from any
orbital vessels."
   "There seems to be a disturbance on the planet's surface, Captain," Worf
growled.  "The colony has been damaged.  Energy weapons have been discharged 
recently."
   "A revolution?" Picard wondered aloud.  He turned to Deanna Troi, the 
ship's counsellor.  "Can you find anything, counsellor?"
   Troi's gaze became unfocussed.  "There is... something nearby.  I can not
tell what it is, it seems to be hidden... the planet... the colonists are
alive, but frightened."  She turned to the Captain.  "I shouldn't be able to
feel them from here, Captain.  Their emotions are strong.  Something has 
happened."
   "I am picking up the remains of a vessel in a low orbit, Captain," Data
reported.  "I am running the debris through the computer... Captain," the
android turned to face Picard, "It is a Federation Antares-class freighter.
It has been fired upon."
   "Red alert, Number One."
   Riker ran through a checklist in his mind, mentally ticking off each part
as he called out orders.  He turned to Picard.  "It's all yours, Captain."
   "Mister Worf, inform the Grissom, the Copernicus, and the Farragut that we 
may need assistance.  Ask them their ETAs from their current positions, 
also."
   Worf replied moments later.  "They stand ready to assist, Captain.  The 
Farragut is three hours away, the Copernicus is twenty minutes, and the
Grissom is five hours away from us."
   "I am also detecting some kind of energy field, Captain."  Data tapped out
a sequence on his console.  "It seems to be in the form of three ships.  
Correction: it is inside three ships.  The energy field, I theorize, is some
kind of primitive cloaking device."
   Three dots became visible on the main screen.  They grew larger as the 
Enterprise moved towards them, as they moved towards the Federation ship.
The dots resolved into wedge-shaped craft of massive proportions.
   "Data, what can you tell us about these... vessels."
   Data glanced at his console displays.  "The upper superstructure seems
to be the bridge.  It has a hangar - possibly for shuttlecraft, or fighters -
and runs on a nuclear reactor of a scale that mankind has not seen before.
It is using some kind of shield technology, the like of which I have never 
seen before.  The ship matches no known description within Federaion or 
Starfleet files."  He turned back to Picard.  "I suggest we try to find out 
more about this vessel.  The cloaking device is scrambling our sensor 
readings of the interior, so we have no way of knowing if this is indeed what 
it appears to be: a vessel of war."
   "Agreed, Mister Data.  Mister Worf, open a channel."  Picard stood, 
straightening his uniform as he walked towards the main screen.  He stopped
just before the channel was opened from the other side.
   "I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard, of the Federation starship USS Enterprise.
I welcome you to Federation space.  Our intentions are non-hostile." He 
stopped suddenly, in the middle of his prepared speech.
   The figure that had appeared on the screen was dressed in grey military 
uniform.  Medals hung along his chest, giving the impression of a great many
victories.  But it wasn't the uniform that made Picard stop.
   The face was hard, seemingly carved from stone.  Piercing blue eyes 
searched the screen, the gaze sweeping around the bridge.  Blond hair was 
pulled back under the military-like cap, revealing even more of the sharp 
face.  This wasn't what made Picard stop.  It was the look on the face.  The
man was human, at least that's what he appeared, and he looked around the
bridge of the Enterprise with undisguised wonder.  This was nothing new to
Picard, but this was not the expression one got from a human, most of whom
had seen a Federation starship.  This person, evidently, hadn't.
   "I am Admiral Jan Tyran, of the Empire.  I represent the Imperial Fleet
in your part of the galaxy.  You will surrender your vessel at once.
   "Or, quite simply, we shall blast you from space..."
   The screen closed down.
   "Shields up, Mister Worf," Riker called out.  Picard returned to his
chair.  "You seem surprised, Captain."
   "I am, Number One.  But this isn't the time for it."
   The lead Star Destroyer pulled around in a tight curve, presenting its
starboard side.  The other two took up position just behind and under the
first.  Both turned to face away from one another, one preseting its portside,
the other, starboard.
   The lead Star Destroyer fired.
   The Enterprise rocked to one side.
   Picard's ears rang.  In the distance, he could hear Worf yelling that the
shot had cut right through the shields, and Data speaking calmly, informing 
everyone that the enemy vessel's cloaks were down, and they were disgorging 
a multitude of small attack fighters...

				  CHAPTER 3

   Captain Ivan Chekov's mouth gaped open as the starship Copernicus slowed 
to impulse.  On the main screen, three massive ships launched barrage after
barrage of green weapons fire at the Enterprise.  The enemy vessels were 
long, angular, with a coning tower-like bridge, raised above the rest of the 
vessel at the rear. 
   "Why doesn't Picard run away?" he wondered aloud.  His science officer   
overheard.
   "It appears that the Enterprise is caught in a tractor beam." The Vulcan
turned to his Captain.  "It is of a type I have never seen before, Captain."
   Lieutenant Rrsk, a Gorn, reported from Tactical.  "They arre being firred
upon by lasserrss, Captain."
   "Lasers shouldn't penetrate the Enterprise's navigational shields," Chekov
muttered as he turned to face Rrsk.
   "Thesse lasserrss... I have sseen nothing like them beforre.  Theirr energy
rratings have jumped off the sscale."
   "I am attempting to alter our shields to compensate for the weapons'
magnitude," the science officer reported.  "Shields should hold for a few
minutes before we burn out our generators.  Then we shall be helpless."
   "How so?" Chekov asked.
   "I am draining energy from the warp core to build a more powerful shield.
If they collapse, we have no warp escape route."
   Chekov considered.  "Is there anyway we can get power from anywhere else?"
   "Negative, Captain.  There is not enough power in a craft this size for us
to safely drain power from elsewhere.  The shield modifications should be 
ready in a few moments..."  The Vullcan's fingers flew over his console.
Finally, he turned to Chekov.  "Shields are ready, Captain."
   Chekov turned back to the main screen.  "Raise shields, ready phasers and
photon torpedoes.  Take us in there, Ensign."
   "Aye, sir."
   The Copernicus joined the battle.
				******

   The Enterprise was badly damaged.  Life support had given out in several
decks, one turbolift was immobile, shields were not holding up, and now
Engineering reported that the warp containment fields were beginning to fail.
   "Mister Data, bring us around to bearing 154 mark 3." Captain Picard 
turned to Worf.  "Fire photon torpedoes, Mister Worf."
   "Aye, sir.  Torpedoes fired."  
   They watched the main screen as the Enterprise came around again.  The
volley of five torpedoes turned into fireworks on the lead enemy vessel's
shields.  A volley of turbolaser fire was returned.
   "Shields down to 14%, Captain," Data reported.  "The lead ship is moving
closer."
   "Change course to bearing 003 mark 15, and fire a spread of torpedoes,
Mister Worf."
   "Aye, sir."
   Commander Riker leaned in closer to Picard, whispering, "We're going under
them?"
   "Yes, Number One.  That may be our only hope."
   "You realise... we can't take much more of this..."
   "I know, Will.  Trust me.  The Copernicus should be here by now.  But we
won't see them, not after our long range sensors went down."
   Another turbolaser blast rocked the ship.
   "Damage report, Mister Data," Riker yelled over the whine of emergency 
klaxons.  An explosion behind Riker, near Tactical startled him.
   "We have lost full impulse engines, Commander.  That last hit also took 
out the bridge's Tactical controls.  Essentially, we have no weapons nor
shields."
   "Suggestions, Mister Worf," Picard asked quietly.
   "I believe we should relocate to the battle bridge, Captain.  That should
be undamaged."
   "Agreed."
   "I also believe that, since the enemy is targeting the primary hull, we
should evacuate the saucer section."
   "Make it so.  Number One, gather the crew with the most battle experience.
Order them to the battle bridge.  I shall be waiting there."
				******

   "Ready for firing, Admiral."
   Tyran looked down into the pit at Lieutenant Gerld, one of his aides.
"Fire, then, Lieutenant."
   Gerld gave the order as Larod walked up to Tyran.  He saluted smartly,
clicking his heels together as he did so.  The thrill of combat...
   And this time, the Emperor wasn't controlling them, as Tyran had proved
to Larod's satisfaction.
   But this wasn't a fight.  One ship, one third the length of a Star
Destroyer.  The Deathwing was the only Destroyer firing now, using the 
Federation ship as much-needed target practice.  After all, when they got
back to where they came from, the Deathwing's crew would have to fight Rebels
who might be dug in to Coruscant something fierce.
   "Admiral!" an Ensign called out from the front of the command pit.  "We
have sensor readings indicating another ship in the immediate vincinity.
Smaller than this, but the shields approach something like our own!"
   "Excellent," Tyran told the Ensign.  To Larod, he muttered, "Order the
Cerberus to break formation, and attack..."
   "Aye, sir."
   Larod hurried off.  Tyran returned his attention to his viewscreen.  He
tapped a button, watching the screen show a schematic of the new intruder.
The main life-form readings were humanoid. with a good chance of being
human, and were concentrated mainly in the saucer-like section up the top of
the ship.  Twin engines of an unknown sort swept back from the saucer, and
pylons rolled underneath the main part of the hull, joining the saucer to a
long, pointed secondary hull.  Like the first enemy, this ship had its name
and registration painted on the top of the saucer: USS GRISSOM NCC-59314.
   The ship would be absurdly easy to destroy once the shields were down, 
and the Cerberus shouldn't have any trouble with that...
				******

			      CHAPTER 4

   The Cerberus engaged the USS Grissom, firing its forward turbolasers at
the intruder.  The Grissom rocked, but was unharmed.  Captain Terrius of the
Imperial Star Destroyer was surprised: he had been told that the enemy's
shields almost matched the Star Destroyers' own, but he hadn't expected a
full barrage of turbolaser fire to just...bounce off the ship, leaving the
vessel unharmed.  The paint hadn't even been scratched...
   Captain Chekov swivled round to his science officer, giving him an
expression of thanks and surprise and admiration.  His Vulcan officer never
ceased to pull rabbits out of his hat.  He turned back to the main screen.
   "Bring us around to face that, Ensign," he murmured, realising the bridge
had gone quiet.  Chekov found his mouth suddenly dry; he had fought the Borg
at Wolf 359 on the Saratoga, and he now wondered if this battle would be a
repeat.
   "Fighterrss arre being launched in ourr dirrection, Captain," Rrsk 
reported.  "The enemy iss powerring up forr anotherr volley..."
   "Fire when ready, Mister Rrsk.  If this shot has no effect, I want you,"
he pointed at his science officer, "Mister Sulak, to find us a phaser
frequency that will."  He turned to face his bridge crew.  "Now, the 
Enterprise is depending on us.  Let's show them what a ship this size and age
can do..."
   "Phasers and photon torpedoes ready, Captain," Rrsk informed Chekov.
   "Fire."
				******

   The phasers bounced off the Cerberus' shields, and the photon torpedoes
detonated just before striking the bridge.  Inside, Captain Terrius looked 
around at the bridge crew.  He was just regaining his feet, as was most of 
his crew.  The impact had sent everyone flying.  For some reason, hitting the
bridge with those torpedoes had rocked the super-dreadnought-sized vessel.
He called out to Tactical.
   "Shield status!"
   The Ensign there studied his consoles for a moment.  "Sir!  We have lost 
one of our deflector shield generator towers!  Bridge shields are down!  Rear
shields are down!  We have lost power to port weapons momentarily; Engineering
is getting on that problem now."
   Bridge.  Shields.  Down.  The words rolled around in a jumbled mess in 
Terrius' mind.  He had once fought a Mon Calamari cruiser with his forward
deflectors down, and hadn't liked the loss of five thousand crew, nor the
extensive damage to the Star Destroyer he had been commanding.  
   But even a Mon Cal cruiser couldn't drop a Star Destroyer's bridge shields
with one shot.  But this tiny ship had.  The enemy didn't even reach four 
hundred metres in length!
   And it had just about rendered the Cerberus inoperable.
   "Intensify all forward firing weapons to cover the bridge!  And when are
those TIE Fighters and Bombers getting there?"
   "About thirty seconds, Captain," came the reply from the pit.
				******

   "TIE Fighter group Alpha, we're going in.  Check in."
   A young pilot moved unsteadily in his spherical cockpit.  "Alpha 2, 
standing by."
   "Alpha 3 standing by," a female pilot answered.  She shifted her helmet 
to a slightly more comfortable position on her head.
   "This is Alpha 1.  Alpha group, pick your targets carefully; we don't want
to fry ourselves.  Remember, we're here as interference for the bombers."
   "Copy that, Alpha 1."
   "Alpha group, report in with targets..."
   "Alpha 1, this is Alpha 2.  I'm taking the left pylon on the primary hull."
The TIE Fighter swung around to face the Grissom's left warp nacelle.
   "Alpha 1, this is Alpha 3.  I've got a positive target lock on the energy
weapon's discharge point.  I'm going in."
   "Okay, May The Force Be With You."  Alpha 1 chuckled silently to himself.
No one would need the Force to do this...  He targeted the primary hull, and
began to fire, then pulled away at the last moment before plastering himself
across the enemy's shields to draw fire away from the incoming TIE Bombers.
   It was so quick, Alpha 3 hardly saw the Grissom fire several beams of 
energy at once, catching Alpha's 1 and 2, and the lead TIE Bomber.  The other
Bomber pilots, blinded by the close flash of light, drove their vehicles into
one another's.
				******

   "We have one of those... fighters... you wanted, Captain, Ops reported.
   "Thank you, Ensign.  Bring it in with the tractor beam.  Store it in the
forward shuttlebay, and get our best xenoengineers down there, right away."
   "Aye, sir."
   Chekov strained his eyes, looking for the Enterprise.  Ah, there it was,
all alone out there, just drifting, now that its impulse engines were out of
operation.  He wished he knew what was happening...
				******


Jag tror att det saknas en del hr. I korthet: Picard blir bortrvad av den
TIE-pilot som man drar ombord



                             STAR WARS
                            A NEW ENEMY
                           (SECTION   2)(pt1)


              It is a dark time for the Federation...
              
              From a not-so-secret striking base, the
              evil Empire is making a big push against
              the United Federation of Planets.  Over 
              one hundredth of Federation space is now 
              under the control of the Empire...

              The Federation has been all but deserted 
              by its former allies, the Klingons, and
              the Romulan Star Empire is turning its
              eyes against its embattled foe...

              Only the crews of several Starfleet ships
              stand between the total destruction of 
              the Federation...


                            PROLOGUE
                            ********

   "Incoming communication," the ship's computer intoned.
   Jock Halberd, captain of the Antares-class freighter Ironhide, pushed his
bandana back from his eyes, the light bringing him back to full wakefulness. 
He glanced around at half-a-dozen screens, all registering normal.  "Okay,
computer, put it on screen," he mumbled.  That Romulan ale the night before had
been a bit too much.  Never again, he vowed,never being maybe two or three
days.
   The screen flickered into life, revealing a small man of the Trill species. 
He glanced around himself nervously, checking to make sure he was alone.  He
then stared directly into the screen.
   "This is President Hamad Kall of Trill.  Do not approach the planet Trill
for any matter.  We have been invaded.  I say again, we have been invaded." 
Behind the Trill, a door was blown off its hinges, and soldiers in bone-white
armour ran into the room.  One raised an unfamiliar gun,and fired it at Kall,
who fell to the ground with a burning hole in his chest.
   The trooper who had fired looked from the Trill to the camera, raised his
blaster, and fired.  Static covered the main screen.
   "What the - ?  Imperial stormtroopers on Trill?"  Halberd's fingers flew
from console to console.  "Computer, call all crew to their stations. Go to red
alert!"
   The lighting changed, becoming red.  Three more crew members ran onto the
bridge.  "What's going on, captain?" one asked.  
   "Stormtroopers on Trill.  The Imperial's got there before us.  We're getting
out of here!"  Halberd turned to another.  "Change our co-ordinates. get us to
Earth!"
   Sensors whined in protest, and alarms clangered throughout the bridge.
   "Captain, we've got company!"  
   On the main screen, a large, angular, wedge-shaped vessel flickered into
real space.
   "Imperial Star Destroyer on the starboard bow!"  someone howled.
   "Shields up, get us out of here!" Halberd clutched his chair.  The Ironhide
turned ponderously, and readied for the change in speed.  They were going to
make it, the Ironhide was going to make it.  This thought rolled around in
Halberd's head.  
   He never even knew that his ship was fired on, and destroyed before moving
off into warp drive.
                                ******

   "Good shooting, Lieutenant Gerld."
   The person who spoke this was tall, blond, and had piercing blue eyes.  He
wore the uniform of an Imperial Admiral.  Admiral Jan Tyran
straightened,pleased with the outcome.  Fear of the Imperials was once again
flourishing,but not in his galaxy.
   It had been some time since his fleet of seventeen Star Destroyers had
vanished from his galaxy, only to end up here.  It had been some time since
Astrogation had worked out that this wasn't the Outer Rim territories.  It had
been some time since the Federation had destroyed the Star Destroyer
Hammerhead.
   A sour taste filled Tyran's mouth.  He hated defeat.  He had given his
engineers something to work on, and they had worked.  For a month, no one even
heard of a Star Destroyer outside of the Yai-Raj colony.  For a month,Imperial
engineers worked on a way to get around the Imperial's last defeat.
   A month of work paid off.
   First, the planet M-113 had fallen to Imperial might.  The Federation hadn't
cared too much about that; it wasn't much more than a backwater research world
now.  Several shapeshifters had been found lying dormant underground, but they
had been dealt with.  Then, each Star Destroyer moved out to one planet. 
Sixteen planets fell to turbolaser blasts from above. Vulcan, Bynaus, Deneb IV,
Risa, and more now lay in Imperial territory.
   Starfleet had launched an offensive when Vulcan and Bynaus were annexed,but
to no avail.  Warp cores were lobbed at the Star Destroyer Cerberus,the
explosions of which detonated harmlessly on their shields.  
   But Starfleet had adapted too.  Turbolaser fire was soaked up by shields,at
least, to a degree.  And Starfleet also found out that five starships,firing
phasers in tandem, could punch holes through Imperial shield technology.  While
the Cerberus was severely damaged, Vulcan was still captured, and only one of
the five Starfleet vessels limped away.  Vulcan fell in three days.
   From there, the Empire used whatever ships were available, and their ranks
swelled with the addition of Nebular-class starships.  Imperial shipyards had
been set up at Starbase 74, and three Nebulon-B frigates were nearly completed.
 Four Victory-class Star Destroyers and two Indictor cruisers were also under
construction.
   And now, another planet had fallen.  Trill had caused no end of
trouble,bolstering morale in the Federation.  It felt good to take it beneath
his heel, and crush it to the ground.
   Tyran looked out at the stars, and the sparking wreckage of the Ironhide.
   It was a pity, that.  Yes, there was the inevitable loss of life.
   And the loss of potential materials.
   He moved to a position above Astrogation.  "Take us to Trill."
   The Ensign hurried to obey.
                                ******

FIELD CAPTAIN'S LOG, Stardate 48203.
   We have intercepted a distress call from Trill, stating that the planet has
been successfully invaded.  Starfleet has diverted us to Utopia Planetia, to
meet up with a new task force, one to combat the increasing Imperial menace.
   My crew doesn't want to join up with a task force of any kind, believing we
can triumph over anything the Imperials can throw at us.  My crew is wrong.  We
need our Captain back.  
   Picard has been missing for two months now, and the ship is feeling the
strain without him.  Guinan especially misses her friend...

                                
                               CHAPTER 1
                               *********

   The doors to Ten Forward opened as Field Captain William T. Riker entered
the bar.  He stopped, looking for someone.  One of his old 'girlfriends',
Deanna Troi, the ship's counsellor, waved at him.  He smiled,and waved back as
he walked up to her.
   "What's a nice Betazoid like you..." he murmured seductively as he leant on
the back of the opposing chair to Troi, "...doing in a place like this?"
   "Having a chocolate sundae," a voice in Riker ear made him jump, startled. 
He whipped around, as if caught out about something, and recognised the
speaker.
   "Guinan!  You... startled me."
   "The way you are at the moment, that's not hard."
   "Pardon?"
   Guinan smiled up at Riker's face.  "Everyone's been walking on nails around
me lately.  Is it something to do with Picard?"
   "Ah, no.  Um, not at all."
   Guinan smiled again.  She placed Tori's sundae on the table, and moved off. 
Riker turned back to Troi.
   "That instilled a great deal of confidence in her," Troi smirked
sarcastically.  She offered a seat to Riker.  "Do you want to join us?"
   Riker looked around.  "Us?  You and Guinan?"
   "No, silly, Worf and I.  We're having... I suppose it would be lunch."
   "I suppose it would, Deanna."  Another gruff voice startled Riker.  Worf
walked past him, and sat.  He began to eat his food - some Klingon dish Riker
had learned to avoid - then looked up at his superior.  "Are you going to take
a seat?"
   Riker sat.  "How do you think everyone's coping with having the Captain
taken?" he asked Troi.
   She paused, and, looking into her sundae, replied: "Everyone is
upset,naturally.  Captain Picard was a natural leader, and also they don't know
you're command style too well yet.  I... think it's you that's having the
hardest time coping with it, Will."
   "How so?"
   "It seeme to be like Wolf 359 all over again.  You don't want to take the
Captain's chair, because he still might be alive, he hasn't given his command
up... but mainly because we simply do not know.  Will," Troi leaned over the
table.  "Accept that he's gone.  If he's alive, then we stand a chance of
getting him back - so long as you can hold the ship together.  I'm sure he's
trying to get out of his predicament."
                                ******

   The electronic whining sound was driving Federation Captain Jean-Luc Picard
crazy.  
   Suddenly, it stopped.  Cautiously, he lowered his hands from his ears, and
listened intently for any trace of the whine.
   Nothing.  The sound of silence permeated the air, refreshing after so long
in the whine.
   Picard looked around the detention cell.  It was like... like a closet. He
had a toilet in one corner, and a metal shelf that served as a bed against the
opposite wall.  He moved onto his bed.
   A prisoner in the next cell banged on the wall between their cells. Faintly,
Picard could hear him - or her, he amended - shout rather loudly. Picard had
found out about that: a loud scream could only just be heard outside the cell
door.
   Sighing, he closed his eyes, and thought back to the Medical lab.
   "He's got an artificial heart," one surgeon muttered.
   "That's a rarity, even in our galaxy."  So, they didn't come from this
galaxy.  That was a relief.  There couldn't be more, then.  
   Hopefully.
   "He will be suffering from a disease sometime in the future.  It's not
common back home, but it is cureable.  Do we fix it, sir?"
   A person in a grey uniform, the Captain of this ship, Picard
realised,entered the prone man's field of vision.
   "The Admiral doesn't want him to die.  Yet."  He looked up at the first
surgeon.  "Fix it."
   "The pain will be -"
   "Then put him out!"
   A mask was placed over Picard's head, and he remembered no more.
   He thought back further.
   Du had piloted the shuttle to the Yai-Raj colony, where two of the large
Imperial battlecruisers Du called 'Star Destroyers' were laying seige to the
surface of the planet.  Picard noticed battle damage on one, and belatedly
realised these were the two he had fought.  
   The Deathwing hailed them, asking for identification after Du called,
informing them of her status.  Name, rank, and serial number followed, along
with a hazy visual.  Apparently, the visual communication systems between
Federation and Imperial radio signals were similar, but not too similar. Du had
already explained to Picard that subspace communications were unknown to the
Empire, but a type of faster-than-light system was in use. It was just that the
two systems were incompatible.  
   "At present," she smiled maliciously.
   He had been taken to meet Admiral Tyran, the person in charge of this fleet.
   "You must listen to reason," Picard implored him.  "We mean you no harm!  We
can live in harmony!"
   Tyran merely looked at him through disgusted eyes.  "Your Federation is no
match for us.  We have lost one ship to your five."  Picard didn't feel much
like informing Tyran that the ships he had destroyed were all unarmed (or only
lightly armed) freighters.  "We have no need for negotiations at all.  We shall
conquer.  We shall rule.  The Imperial banner shall fly above thousands of
worlds!  Even now, an ODN is being erected above this planet.  This shall be
our home world now.  This will be the seat of Imperial glory.  This will be the
first step on the way to making a new Empire!"  He waited expectantly for
Picard to reply.  None was forthcoming, so Picard was sent for his examination.
   And ever since then, Picard had been trapped in this tiny cell.
   He swung around at the sound of his door being opened.  Two stormtroopers
stood there, gesturing with their blaster rifles.  As he walked out, he noticed
the next cell being opened.  Out of it came a male of some species Picard had
never seen before.  It's skin was blue, and twin balloons of flesh hung down
from around the mouth.
   "Move on, Aqualish," one trooper muttered as he gave a vicious swing with
his blaster butt.  The creature roared, turning slightly.  Picard noticed welts
running down the creature's side, scarring made by branding.  He froze, not
wanting to know what they were being moved for.  If it was another lecture from
the madman in charge, well, Picard had sat through enough of them in the
Academy.  If it was torture, then...
   That didn't merit thinking about.
   The Aqualish led the group, Picard herded along behind.

                                CHAPTER 2
                                *********

   The Flight Training Centre wasn't too crowded for a change.  The woman loved
training at times like this.  Only, this time, she was here to speak to someone
she knew, because this was one of the few areas on a Victory-class Star
Destroyer that weren't bugged.
   The old man looked up as she approached.  He raised a hand, and Du felt a
presence in her mind.
   **Greetings,** it informed her.  **I have not seen you in a long
time,student...**
   "I must apologise, Master.  I... have had to think over the last two
months."  She spoke aloud, preferring for the moment to hear her
thoughts,instead of thinking them.  "I may have done something wrong..."
   The old man switched to vocalising.  "What is it?"
   "I... have done someone an injustice..."
   "What injustice, child?  Your aura has not been tainted.  You are not under
the spell of the Dark Side.  You have done nothing to cause this."
   The woman spoke softer, suddenly aware of others in the room.
   "I took someone against their will.  He tried to stop me, but I ignored his
wishes, and stole, and took a hostage.  I... brought him here, and I can feel
his agony, his torment.  I... I'm linked to him, I don't know how, I feel what
he feels, I can see what he sees."
   The old man closed his eyes.  "You still wish to bring this Admiral down?"
   The woman nodded slowly, hesitantly.  "Yes.  I want to stop him.  I need to
stop him.  The Empire destoryed my world.  I'm going to destroy the Empire."
   "Beware of hate, anger, and fear.  That way lies the Dark Side."
   "I hate the Empire, but I don't use hate when I use the Force.  Does that
mean -"
   "You never hate.  Dislike intensely, perhaps, but never hate.  That trap is
one which many Jedi have fallen into.  Never doubt yourself."
   "I won't, Master.  But to my problem again - what am I going to do?  I can't
help him, I can't stop Tyran from harming him if the Admiral wishes. Master, I
need help."
   "You cannot help him in person.  That is what you should have said." His
eyes opened again.  "The future is always in motion, I have told you that. 
Your talents do not allow you to see the future - yet.  But you will. When you
are ready, all will be revealed.  But I see you helping.
   "Now, go.  I am tired."  The old man's eyes closed again.
   Ensign Tavela Du stood, and walked away.  Help...
                                ******

   A stormtrooper noted the approach of the prisoners.  The Aqualish stood
proud, showing off its colours.  Purely a warning.  Aqualish were well-known
for their timidity.  There were a few exceptions, though.  There had been one
on Tatooine that the trooper had seen...
   The other prisoner walked with a slump.  That was a danger sign, the trooper
recognised.  The Federation never stopped fighting for something they believed
in, even if they were pacifists.  This human could cause trouble to the
operation.
   The lead trooper passed over a datacard, showing the prisoners' details. The
first trooper studied them, then signed the prisoners over to himself. He led
them through a doorway, into a turbolift, were he proceded to tap in an
irregular sequence of floors.  At the third floor the lift stopped at, the
trooper stepped out with the two prisoners.  The Aqualish was sent to his
death, he wasn't necessary.  He was a murderer, wanted for killings on
Kashyyyk.  
   But the human was released with orders to proceed down the hall, and enter
the first door on his left.
   Picard stumbled, thinking this was all some cruel joke, a way to shoot the
prisoner, and be done with it.  The trooper could claim he was trying to
escape, he wouldn't put it past the Imperial trooper.  He stepped into the door
indicated.  
   The room he found himself in was dark, and it took Picard's eyes a minute to
adjust.  
   "How have you been treated?" A voice floated out at him.
   "A - all right," he stammered.  "Who are you?"
   The speaker stepped out of the darkest shadows.  He found the face familiar,
but he couldn't place it.  
   "Ensign Tavela Du, TIE Fighter Pilot, Imperial Navy."  She stared at Picard,
her eys running over him for signs of any visible damage.  "I hope you weren't
hurt.  I didn't want you to get hurt.  I thought they would try and bargain you
away for a planet, or something."
   "What...?"
   "We weren't informed much of what Admiral Tyran wanted to do here, until he
launched an attack on T'Ruffen.  It was then that I had to move pretty quickly.
 Unfortunately, he had me packed off in a TIE in the first wave. I think he
wanted me dead, I'm not sure, I'll find out soon.
   "I was captured, which wasn't supposed to happen.  So I escaped, but you had
some notion of trying to stop me.  I managed to halt the others with the Force,
but you broke through my Force screen.  I don't know how, maybe you're strong
in the Force, too.  But you got in, and I couldn't risk taking you back.  I can
stop Tyran - eventually - but I need time.  And space. When I do stop him, this
section of the galaxy will know.
   "Any questions?"
   The uppermost question in Picard's mind surfaced.  "What's this 'Force' you
were talking about?"
   Du smiled.  "The Force is created by living things.  It flows through
everything, through me, through you, through Tyran.  It flows through entire
planets!  Some people can manipulate it to a degree.  I've been trained in the
use of it, but I'm still learning.  I need to know more before I take Tyran
down."
   "Why do you do this?"
   "Do...?  Fight for the Empire, you mean?"
   Picard nodded.
   "Because... because this way, no one suspects I'll betray Tyran.  At the
moment of his greatest triumph.  I'll destroy him.  But I can't see a way to do
that without turning to the Dark Side of the Force."
   "There are two sides?" Picard queried.
   "Yes.  The side I belong to, and the Dark Side.  Darth Vader and the
now-dead Emperor used the Dark Side.  I can't fall into that trap, or I could
become even more of a danger to the Federation you belong to than Tyran ever
could be."
   "How do you know when you'll attack Tyran?"
   "I don't.  All I know is what I told you.  It'll be at the moment of his
greatest triumph.  I don't know when, I don't know how.  I just do."  Du
smiled.  She gestured at the door.  "Now, I'd better get you out of here. The
trooper that brought you here will escort you to a shuttle.  He'll give you the
necessary information to get out of the Deathwing, and into hyperspace, towards
where ever you want to go to.  Just remember: leave the Imperial forces to me."
   Something occurred to Picard.  "But... why do you want to betray Tyran at
all?"
   Something flittered across Du's face.  It looked to Picard like pain, a sad
memory that could never be cleaned away.  When she spoke, her voice was like a
whisper.  "My homeworld was the planet Alderaan.  It was destroyed by the
Imperial Battlestation named the Death Star.  Seven thousand million people
killed, executed in a second, all because a Grand Moff decided that an old
Rebellion base was too far from the Core systems to make an effective example
to all worlds in the galaxy."
   Picard wanted to know more, but Du shushed him, and led him to the door. She
peered out, and gestured to the trooper.  When he arrived, she whispered to
him.  "You will take the prisoner to the hangar, and let him take a
Lambda-class shuttle.  You will give him all the information he needs to pilot
it, and to make the jump to hyperspace into Federation territory, and you will
forget you ever did it.  You will also make certain the prisoner can get away
from the Deathwing without being fired upon, or caught in a tractor beam.  You
will forget, as soon as I leave you, that I told you to do this.  Do you
understand?"
   The stormtrooper nodded.
   "Good luck," Du mumbled as she pushed past Picard.  He began to raise a hand
in farewell, until it occurred to him that he might see her again.
   The trooper hurried off to the 'lift, and Picard followed him.
                                
                                CHAPTER 3
                                *********

   Admiral Tyran stared down into the command pit at a Tactical screen.
   "There," he said, "That dot.  Right there!"
   Tactical picked it up, and read information off the screen.  "Lambda-class
shuttle, scheduled for flight to T'Ruffen.  Supply run, load is a bunch of R2
astromech droids."
   Tyran turned to Larod.  "Did you schedule that flight?"
   The Captain shook his head.  "No, sir."
   "Lock that shuttle in a tractor beam, and fire an Ion cannon when ready.  I
want to see what's inside..."
   The turbolift doors opened behind Tyran.  A stormtrooper stepped out,
looking down into the pit.  He raised his blaster, and shot down the officer at
Tactical, followed by the officer at Fire Control.  One of the lift-stationed
troopers blasted the rogue trooper down.  Smoking skeleton armour crumpled to
the ground.  Tyran's face twisted into a disgusted grimace as he turned away.
   "Find out who he is.  Find out if Picard's still in the detention centre.
Then tell me.  I'll be in my quarters."
                                ******

   Du arranged herself on the couch, draping her nightgown across the back. She
waited nervously, waited, waiting.  
   The door to the room hissed open, admitting Tyran.  "And how are you
tonight, my lovely?" he whispered.  His eyes carressed her body, visible
through the shimmering material.
   "Waiting for you, Admiral.  What are we going to do tonight?"  She giggled. 
Secretly, she was disgusted.  Okay, it got her close to Tyran, but it made her
feel like one of the spies she read about as a child: using sex to get
information.  But she was using sex for revenge: revenge for seven thousand
million people.  She didn't find out much, but when she did...
   "Not much, Tavela.  I have some business to attend to.  The prisoner you
returned with, might have just escaped."
   Du pretended to be playfully horrified.  "You mean, I did all that work for
nothing?  Admiral, I'm displeased.  It's to the stockade with you tonight!"  Du
giggled again.
   "Oh, god, not the stockade." Tyran had memories of THAT game.  "If you'll
wait in the bedroom...?  I'll be in in a moment."
   "Okay."  Du disappeared into the bedroom, and sat on the bed, legs crossed,
eyes shut, focusing on being in the next room.  She felt the Force roll through
her.  What a rush!
   The comm system bleeped into life.  "Admiral, this is Larod.  We've
identified the trooper.  He was a Corporal Harvey Hunuck, from green section. 
And, no, Picard isn't in his cell."
   Tyran slammed a fist into the closest wall.  "Damn.  Find him, Captain. Plot
his course, I want to know where he's going."
   "We... all ready did, sir.  He's headed for a planet known as... Earth,I
believe, Admiral."
   "Anything special about the system?"
   Larod consulted a nearby screen.  "No, sir.  According to Imperial
Intelligence, Earth is the planet where the seat of power in the Federation is
based.  It's about... three days travel at cruising speeds, sir."
   Tyran pondered for a moment.  "We won't pursue him yet.  He may get
there,but that won't matter much.  After all, he's one person.  And what can
one person do?"
   As he closed the link, Tyran thought, After all, look at the Emperor...
   He turned toward the bedroom.  "Get the stockade ready, Tavela, I'm coming
in!"
                                ******

   With a burst of starlines, an Imperial shuttle exited hyperspace for real
space over the planet Earth.  Defense fighters streaked out from the orbital
station Spacedock, calling for identification.  After learning the captured
Captain, Jean-Luc Picard, could be on board, the fighters escorted the Imperial
vehicle to a berth in te nearby massive space station.
   Picard was led down the shuttle's ramp, straight to a medical facility.
There, he was scanned, sedated, and knew no more until the next day.
   He found himself in a comfortable Federation-style room for the first time
in two months.  The familiar blue-grey colour scheme brought a cloak of sleep
down on him once more, and he dreamed the dreams of a 'normal' person.
                                ******

   "Message from Starfleet Headquarters, Comm... Captain," Worf growled over
the Tactical console at Riker.
   "On screen."  The screen's star field flickered into the picture of Admiral
Karol.  His face was split in two by a huge grin.
   "Good news, Captain Riker.  We have found Captain Picard!"
   Riker couldn't keep the smile from his face.  "That's good news, all right,
Admiral.  What's his condition?"
   "He's in pretty good shape, considering he's been a prisoner of the
Imperials for two months.  He was half-starved when we found him, and nearly on
the point of collapse."
   "Where did you find him?"
   Karol chuckled.  "Well, rather, he found us!  He was helped to escape,and
stole a shuttle.  Had it stolen from him, really.  He wants to get back to the
Enterprise, and as quickly as possible.  The Medical staff here say he's fit
for duty."
   "We'll have him back, Admiral."  Riker turned partly, ready to cut the
channel, but Karol continued.
   "He has one condition, Captain, and that's that you resign your place as
Captain of the Enterprise, and take over as his First Officer again."
   "I'll do that," Riker said, without hesitation as the line was cut from
Starfleet Headquarters.  "He's coming back," was all he could say to the crew. 

   Worf put it most eloquently.  "About time."
                                ******

   It took three days for Picard to be returned to the Enterprise.  Between
Starship travelling, shuttlecraft ferrying, and transporter beam
transfers,Picard felt quite tired.  His eyes began to droop just as the last
transporter transfer took place.
   In transporter room 3, the Enterprise's senior staff waited anxiously for
their Captain.  "He's coming through now," the Transporter Chief said.
   "Thank you," Riker replied.  "Look alive, people."
   Everyone present drew themselves up.  Troi brushed her uniform down quickly,
Doctor Crusher straightened the collar of her coat, Geordi LaForge fingered his
VISOR.  All waited with bated breath.
   On the transporter pad, lights played, creating patterns out of air. Energy
filled in the gaps, changing, becoming solid.  Out of the electrical blue form,
Captain Jean-Luc Picard formed.
   He stepped off the pad, dropping his duffel bag.  He scanned the faces in
the room as Riker dismissed the Transporter Chief.  Only Crusher seemed to
notice the deep hurt in his eyes.  Medically, she noted other things:  he
needed to put on more weight, he needed some sleep, he needed -
   He needed to stop by Sickbay.
   Picard turned his gaze to Riker.  "Permission to come aboard."
   "Permission granted," Riker smiled.  "Welcome back, sir."
   "What's the latest on the Imperial advance, Number One?"
   Same old Picard, Riker thought happily.  This was where he belonged,
captaining the Enterprise with William T. Riker as his First Officer.  "I have
a padd loaded with the relevant information in your Ready Room, Captain. But
first, Doctor Crusher wants you to stop by Sickbay.  And a friend is waiting
for you in Ten Forward."
                                ******

   "I can only find one serious thing wrong with you, Jean-Luc," Beverly
Crusher reported after a quick medical scan.  "Your... defect... for want of a
better word, has gone.  You... won't suffer from Irumodic Syndrome after all...
if you ever would have."
   "What do you mean, Beverly?"  Picard swivled to face his Chief Medical
Officer.  He could see barely concealed amazement on her face, could see it in
her eys, in the way she spoke, the way she stood.
   "You remember, you had a defect in part of your skull, one that could cause
Irumodic Syndrome in later years.  You claim that you had it in that trip to
the future you experienced via Q..."
   "Yes, yes, I know all that.  But what happened?"
   Crusher looked at him.  "Do you remember anything about being in a medical
area while a prisoner of the Empire?"
   "Yes, I was.  They mentioned curing me of a desease I would have in the
future sometime.  They said it was cureable, and apparently, they did.  I just
didn't think it would be that."
   Crusher pulled out a tricorder, scanning Picard's skull.  Nothing she found
suggested any tampering, but that wasn't conclusive.  She needed larger
equipment than there was on the Enterprise.  "Well, you check out... Take it
easy, though, will you?  You need to put on weight - you lost several kilograms
while a prisoner.  You should also consider taking a holiday.  You need the
rest."
   Picard smiled gratefully.  "I'll take that under consideration."
   Crusher looked him up and down.  "What did they do to you?"
   "Do?  Nothing.  Just locked me in a cell for two months, and subjected me to
a medical scan - obviously - and also to an annoying sound.  Other than that
and a lecture from their leader, they did nothing."
   "I can't believe that, Jean-Luc.  We've found colonists that the Imperials
displaced.  They've been tortured, mutilated, all to find out if we're
different.  And even under medical drugs and hypnosis, their stormtroopers are
immune to questioning.  We need to know why they're cutting people up."
   "All I know, Doctor, is that, for some reason, Admiral Tyran wanted me
alive.  I do not know why."
   "Oh."  Crusher walked behind Picard, picked up a hypospray, and injected him
in the neck with it.  "This should relax you somewhat.  You do need to relax,
Captain.  It'll wear off in a few hours.  Just take it easy until then, okay?"
   "Yes, Doctor."
   Crusher watched Picard's back as he exited the room.
                                ******

   "So, what was it like?"
   Picard stared at Guinan across the bar.  She stared back at him.  Picard's
eyes flickered away for a moment, then settled on the bar.
   "It... was horrible.  I didn't suffer so much at the hands of the
Cardassians, when we thought they were developing metagenic weapons.  At least
they used physical torture, not noises and isolation.  I think the Admiral
wanted to see how much psychological torture I could handle."
   "He sounds like a real nice guy." 
   "He was very unpleasant.  He had a way of looking through you.  His eyes
never told you what he was going to do next.  He looked and acted like a chunk
of stone, but his officers and troops respected him, and I think all his
posturing may have been an act."
   "You think his appearance was a test?"
   "I don't know, Guinan.  But I'm glad I'm back here now.  I... didn't escape,
I was rescued.  But to repay my rescuer, I may have to sacrifice an important
planet in the Federation."
   "What do you mean?"  Guinan didn't like the way this was going.  There was
only one real important planet in the Federation:  Earth.  It held the Council
chambers for the United Federation of Planets, and a strike there -and a
victory - would mean a massive psychological blow to the remainder of the
Federation.
   "My rescuer - sirprisingly enough, the woman who captured me in the first
place - said it would be she who stopped the Admiral, not I, nor Starfleet. She
said she would betray the Admiral at the moment of his greatest triumph. I
can't help thinking that will be at Earth."
   "If she can see the future, then you'll have nothing to worry about,Picard. 
You do your bit, and I'm sure she'll do hers."
   Picard turned haunted eyes on the bartender.  "But will doing my part lead
to the deaths of thousands, perhaps millions?"  He left Ten Forward and Guinan
was left wondering.
                                
                                CHAPTER 4
                                *********

   "Benjamin."  Commander Benjamin Sisko didn't like the way Admiral Nechayev
called him by his first name.  The last time he had spoken to her was just
after a 'dream', in which she had sold Bajor to the Dominion. "We here at
Starfleet Headquarters need your help.  You know all about the recent Imperial
attacks...?"
   Sisko nodded.  "I keep on top of the reports.  There's evidence that Bajor
will come under attack from them in the near future."
   "We here on Earth agree with that thought, Commander, and we want to make a
stand there.  Bajor is close enough to the Cardassian Union to hopefully pull
the Cardassians into our battles.  We need help, Benjamin."
   The Admiral calling him that made Sisko feel like flying to Earth, and
laying waste to her in the Defiant.  "I know, Admiral.  But why tell me that?"
   "Because the Cardassians will not be enough.  We need you to go through the
wormhole, Commander."  Sisko knew what was coming.  "We need you to ask... the
Dominion for assistance.  It's their help we really need."
   Even though he knew it was coming, Sisko nearly choked to hear it out aloud.
 "Admiral, I know it would be good if we could bring the Dominion into the
Federation, but the Founders made it quite clear - to me, anyway -that they
wished to be left alone.  I see no explanation to risk the fragile unspoken
truce we have with them at the moment."
   "Benjamin -"
   "Damn it, Admiral!  Bajor is not yet part of the Federation.  This is
Bajoran space we're in here.  They'll welcome any help from Starfleet, but I
don't think they'll take Dominion help too lightly.  It's not me you have to
order - I'm here under sufference just as much as the Federation was when the
Union pulled out."  
   Nechayev frowned.  "Commander Sisko, are you going to disobey a direct
order?"
   "No ma'am.  I'm just saying that this is not Federation space.  You cannot
make decisions here that could jeopardise the future of this territory."
   "Well, then, we'll just have to take our plans to the Provisional
Government."
   Sisko couldn't resist one last dig.  "Don't expect them to jump for joy at
the prospect of letting the Jem'Hadar or the Founders anywhere their planet and
wormhole, Admiral."
   "Nechayev out."
   The viewscreen blanked.  Sisko lay back in his chair, thinking.  Nechayev
was almost certainly to get the Government's permission for this scheme.  It
might pay to be ready.  Another invasion, this one only two months after a
Cardassian and Borg one.  How nice.  They always told me bad things came in
threes, Sisko thought,  I thought it was only exam results.  I wonder what's
next?
   Sighing, he tapped his comm badge.  "Sisko to O'Brien."
   "Yes, Commander?"
   "Have the Defiant ready for launching.  We may be going on a short trip to
the Gamma Quadrant."
   "Aye, sir."
                                ******

   Du stood on the bridge of the Star Destroyer Nightfall, watching the skies
for fighters.  A squadron of TIE Fighters flashed past, a squad of Federation
fighters close behind.  Admiral Tyran stood next to her.  Outside was the
planet Earth.
   "Sir, we have found the structure named 'Spacedock'," Tactical reported.
   "Fire at will, Captain," Tyran replied.  
   The Captain, Krol Stultz, relayed the order to Fire Control.  Everything on
the bridge stopped to watch the bursts of green energy strike out into the
black void, to watch the large microphone-shaped space station be destroyed. 
In the minutes before the station totally erupted into flame and wreckage,
shuttlecraft and starships exited through the massive forward doors.
   "Bring the Lodestone around, we'll use that to destroy Federation
Headquarters on the planet."
   Such an insignificant planet in galactic terms.  Half way out from the
central hub of this galaxy, and everyone fights to protect it.  A black ship
just missed the Lodestone while it was moving into position.  Smoke poured
forth from one of its warp nacelles.
   "Lodestone is in position," someone from the pit reported.
   "Fire."
   Turbolaser fire rained down on the planet Earth, in the region known locally
as France.  The capital city, Paris, was obliterated.  And Du smiled.
                                ******

   Du sat up in bed, sweating and shivering.  The dream had been so real, so
real... She'd been having it since she 'rescued' Picard, so that was likely
where it started.  If she could only find out... without Tyran finding out.
   Pulling on her rec uniform, she hurried to the Flight Training Centre. The
old man sat there, calmly, serenely.  He wasn't noticed by anyone but Du, who
ran up to him.
   "Master, I must speak to you."
   "Then speak," he said simply.
   "I... have been having a... dream lately.  Ever since Picard escaped.  I
think it may have something to do with that."
   The old man opened an eye.  "Do you remember this dream?"
   "Yes."
   "Then open your mind..."  Du felt the old man's presence in her mind,
looking into the dream.  She saw it all again, the destruction of Spacedock,the
decimation of France.  But now, she noticed little details: she was wearing the
uniform of a Lieutenant; the black ship was of neither Federation nor any of
its allies type.
   She came out of the induced trance suddenly.  The old man lowered his head. 
"It is the future you see."
   "As it will be, or as it may be?"
   "Tavela, nothing is ever wriiten in stone.  What has been written in the
future is still to come, and may not come to pass.  On the other hand, it may. 
If you were offered a promotion, would you take it?"
   "If it meant I got close to Tyran, yes."
   The old man smiled.  "You could kill him in bed quite easily.  Why do you
not take that option?"
   "Because then I'd be controlled by fear, and that leads to the Dark Side. I
believe I will betray him at the moment of his greatest triumph.  But to kill
him when he is asleep... that would be risky.  I don't think I'd have the will
power to turn from the Dark Path."
   "I see you have another reason."
   It was Du's turn to smile.  "Very perceptive, Master.  Yes, I do.  If I kill
him in bed, then someone equally as capable would take over.  This way,if it's
in combat, I can make enough confusion in our ranks to give the Federation a
fighting chance."
   "So... you may still sacrifice your soul to the Dark Side.  Be very careful,
Tavela.  I have groomed you, taught you, and now it is time you stand on your
own two feet."
   Taken aback, Du asked, "Are you leaving, Master?"
   "In a word, yes."  The old man stood up, and pulled a staff out of somewhere
Tavela never even knew existed.  He cracked it down on the floor,and faded
away.  
                                ******

   "I don't think anyone's here, Commander."  Major Kira Nerys stood at
Tactical in the starship Defiant.  "Sensors show nothing within range, except
an asteroid."
   "Scan the asteroid closer, Major."
   "Aye, sir."  Kira sounded bored.
   She probably was, Sisko thought to himself.  The Defiant had been in
Dominion space for a day, broadcasting tentative hello signals all that time.
Nothing had been sighted, and with the possibility of an attack on Bajor
looming closer and closer, Sisko didn't want to take the strongest ship that
would be in the fight - strongest of the Federation's ships, that is - too far
from the mouth of the wormhole.
   "Commander, I've found something," Kira muttered, leaning closer to the
console.  "It's very small - I'm putting it up on the main screen."
   No use telling Kira off, Sisko thought sourly, She'd throw it right back  in
my face.  "Okay, Major."  
   The asteroid filled the screen, a pock-marked chunk of blackened rock. It
hung eerily in the silent vacuum, highlighted by a red circle on the screen. 
"There it is, Commander.  It seems to be a cloaked ship."
   Sisko jumped.  "Romulan?  Klingon?"
   "Neither, Commander.  It's  too small for a Warbird.  And all Klingon
vessels that have gone through the wormhole came back."
   "Dax, can you get us nearer to that thing?"
   "Of course."  The Trill's hands flew lightly over the conn board, tapping in
a heading.  "We'll be within sight range in about thirty seconds, Benjamin." 
At least Dax could be civil.
   Sisko's comm badge bleeped.  "Bashir to Sisko."  Sisko tapped his badge.
   "I'm here, Doctor.  What's the latest on the Sickbay?  Have you and O'Brien
got that pressurized yet?  We'll need it when we get back to Bajor."
   "That's what I was calling about.  Seems we had an oxygen leak the sensors
didn't pick up.  We have no more spare oxygen to fill up Sickbay with."
   "Hmmm.  Nothing we can do about it now, then.  Could you send Odo up to the
bridge?"
   "Okay, Commander."
   Damn!  What else could go wrong?
   "Commander, that ship's decloaking."  Kira eyes opened wide.  "Commander!
It's a Jem'Hadar ship!  Oh," she couldn't believe her eyes.  "It's hailing us."
   "On screen, Major."
   The face of a Founder filled the main screen.  It's face seemed unfinished,
the nose melding into the forehead, the cheeks having a blank look about them. 
"Greetings again, Commander Sisko," she said.
   "Greetings."  Sisko left his sentence open.  He didn't know by what title to
call a Founder.
   "I trust this is important, Commander.  We thought we had seen the last of
you and your kind."
   "It is important.  We have... problems in our Quadrant.  We need your help."
   The Founder smiled.  "And what problems would they be, Commander, that the
resourcefulness of the Federation can't stop?  After all, you stopped one of
our vessels.  And you stopped us from conquering the Federation... Oh, but that
last was a dream, wasn't it?"
   Sisko got angry.  "Damn it!  Our allies have deserted us.  We have been
pitted against an enemy worse than you or your Jem'Hadar put together.  They
are taking over the Federation, bit by bit, and we need your help.  If we have
to grovel, then I am grovelling now!"
   "What happened to your allies?"
   Fuming, the Commander from Starfleet replied.  "The Klingons withdrew all
support, as we did during the Klingon Civil War.  Our policy of
non-intervention is our greatest asset - and our greatest weakness."
   The Founder leaned forward into the screen.  "And what is this enemy of
yours called, Sisko?"
   Sisko regained his cool, hating himself for losing it.  "They are called
Imperials.  They have taken over one-hundredth of the Federation.  We have very
little defense against their warships, called Star Destroyers, mainly because
we can't raise that kind of starship numbers in such a short time."
   On the screen, the Founder stiffened.  Behind Sisko, the turbolift doors
opened, and Odo walked in.  He resembled the Founder in a lot of ways
externally, but he was different internally.  He noticed the Founder's
reaction.  "What did you say that got our friend uptight, Commander?"
   "I just said -"
   "Imperials!  They're back!  Stay here, Commander, I shall return." 
   The screen changed back to the asteroid picture.  
   "They're moving, Commander."  Kira's words barely impacted on Sisko.  
   "They've met the Imperials before?" he said aloud.
   Dax answered him.  "Yes, Benjamin.  Obviously.  They've also got a working
cloaking device."
   "Is there anyone outside the Federation that hasn't?" Kira threw at Dax.
   "Well... to be blunt, yes.  The Lysians, the Satarrans, the Cardassians,the
Gorn, the Tholians, the -" Showing centuries of practiced, Dax ducked a flying
padd.  

                                CHAPTER 5
                                *********

CAPTAIN'S LOG, Stardate 48231.
   We have had trouble with a warp core replacement.  It is an upgraded type to
the one the Enterprise received at T'Ruffen, and is still in desparate need to
being broken in.  Lieutenant Commander Geordi LaForge assures me it will be in
shape by the time we reach Bajor.
   The Federation Council has decreed that Starfleet will stop the Imperial
advance at that planet, regardless of the man- and ship-power involved. This
seems to be a psychological strike rather than a physical strike, more for us
than to strike fear into the enemy.
   Counsellor Troi believes the recent high-spirits aboard this ship are due to
nervousness more than anything else.  Nervousness or not, this ship's crew must
be ready to hold together with the other ships.
                                ******    
                                
   "Arrival at Bajor in twenty-one minutes, thirteen seconds, Captain."
   "Thank you, Mister Data." Picard's arms ran along the arms of his chair. The
leather felt... surprisingly nice and comforting after his recent ordeal. 
Again he glanced at the padd in his lap.  The Imperials had been doing some
work.  The battle at Bajor would start in less than ten minutes,according to
sensor readings from some planet ten light years away.
   Again, Picard went over battle strategy in his mind.  First, the Enterprise
would exit warp speed at a distance of half a light minute, and wait for sensor
readings from the Imperials to find them.  Then, after a few seconds, they
would again enter warp speed, exit close to the Imperials,and fire everything
they had the closest Star Destroyer.  Picard hoped deep down that it would be
the Deathwing.  
   The Enterprise had been outfitted with graviton torpedoes, in addition to
its cargo of 'normal' photon torpedoes.  It had been hoped that they might do
something to the Imperial battlecruisers.
   Time passed quickly, and Picard couldn't believe that arrival at Bajor was
only about a minute.
   "All stations are standing by, Captain," Riker passed on the information
after looking at his own padd.  Picard placed his aside.  
   "Let them see us, Mister Data."  
   "Aye, sir."
   The starlines on the main screen gave way to a brilliant starfield.
   "Not many places like Bajor for a view like this, is there, Captain?"
   "Not many, Number One.  Too bad a place like this is going to see a lot of
combat."  Data informed Picard that Imperial sensor sweeps had found them,and a
smaller Star Destroyer-type vessel was moving to intercept.
   "I hope Commander Sisko's done his work."
   "Agreed, Number One.  Mister Data, warp five, current heading.  Engage."
   The starfield flickered for a moment, then settled into a different view.
   Right in front of the Enterprise lay an Imperial Victory-class Star
Destroyer.  To Picard's satisfaction, it was the Deathwing.
   "Fire, Mister Worf!"  
   Photon and graviton torpedoes flared on the Star Destroyer's shields. Phaser
energy crackled across the explosions from the torpedoes, sinking into the
Destroyer's shielding.
   "Enemy shields are down, Captain."
   "Fire again, Mister Worf."
   "Aye, sir."
   "Captain, I have run a scan for other starships.  There appear to be only
nine.  Wreckage in the area of those nine suggest at least four ships have been
destroyed."  Data turned to Picard.  "There is no sign of the Defiant."
   "Then we assume Commander Sisko and all hands aboard the Defiant have   been
destroyed.  We don't have the time for this, Data."
   Data turned back to Ops.  "It may mean we have no help from the Dominion."
   "Agreed."  On the screen, the Star Destroyer turned to bring its starboard
deflector shields against the Enetrprise's weapons fire.  "Take us back to warp
five, Mister Data, heading -"
   Picard was cut off as the ship lurched to one side.
   Worf answered unasked questions from the bridge crew.  "Captain!  We have
been caught - in a tractor beam of some kind.  By the cruiser that was sent
after us before we warped in."
   "Captain, we cannot go to warp while in this tractor beam."
   "Can you get us out, Data?" Riker asked.
   "I believe I can.  By modifying our own tractor beam, I might be able to
repel the Enterprise from the tractor beam."
   "Make it so, Mister Data.  Mister Worf, fire photon torpedoes at the new
vessel."
   A new barrage of torpedoes fired at the crippled Star Destroyer.  Its
starboard shields cracked under a pyrotechnic display not seen too often in
Federation territory - or in Bajoran.  The Star Destroyer, now
unshielded,launched multitudes of TIE Fighters, Bombers, Assault Gunboats, TIE
Interceptors, and shuttles.  The fighters split up, and headed for either the
Enterprise or another Star Destroyer in the distance.
   "I have modified the tractor beam, Captain.  We can use it when ready."
   "Do it, Data!" Riker exclaimed.  
   Data fingers tapped a button on his console.  "Tractor beam is operational. 
We are being pushed away.  Warp speed in thirty seconds."
   Something crashed against the Enterprise's shields.
   "We have sustained damage to the rear shields.  Minimal damage caused by a
fighter crashing."
   "Get rid of those fighters, Mister Worf."
   "Aye, sir."
   Phaser energy streaked out at the TIE Fighters, missing the squadron of TIE
Bombers they were running cover for.  Proton torpedoes streaked away, followed
by an assortment of concussion missiles.  The rear shields on the Enterprise
struggled under the strain.  Energy was rerouted from secondary power sources,
and bolstered the flagging shields, but not for long. Damage taken to rear
shield generators was too great, and a TIE Interceptor zipped inside the
cramped space between shields and starship.
   "This Alpha 1," Du reported.  "I'm in.  I'm going for a cripple shot."
   She fired, hitting the primary impulse engine.  Swinging around, she
targeted the port warp nacelle.
   "We have sustained damage to the port warp nacelle."  Worf's statement threw
all Picard's strategies out the porthole.  They relied on having warp power to
make repeated Picard Manoeuvres, striking the enemy down one by one.
   The Enterpirse moved out of the cruiser's tractor beam range, and headed for
the nine other Starfleet ships.  They joined in on a collective shield,which
covered up the gaping hole in the rear of the Enterprise's shields.
   Ten starships waited for the enemy to make their move.  
   The lead Star Destroyer, Deathwing, exploded.  Amen to that, Picard thought.
 Worf broke his thoughts.
   "Sir!  We are being hailed by the Star Destroyer Nightfall."
   "On screen, Mister Worf."
   The starfield fuzzed in static, resolving into the now well-known features
of Admiral Jan Tyran.  "Did you really think you could kill me that easily?"
   Picard stood.  "We hoped."
   Tyran continued as if he hadn't been interupted.  "As you can see, we've
already destroyed four of your starships.  Don't make it embarrassing for
yourselves, and lose the rest."  His face hardened.  "Surrender or die."
   The channel closed.
   "Commander, we have a neutrino burst of the starboard bow."
   The wormhole flowered into existence, bring with it the Defiant.
   And a dozen Jem'Hadar warships.



                              NEEDLESS TO SAY,
                              TO BE
                              CONTINUED!!!!!!!


   COMING SOON:  Admiral Tyran makes a major move on the Federation!  The
Dominion and Starfleet team up for the first - and only - time ever!  Du gets
promoted to Lieutenant!  And to top it all off, a battle over Earth!  Is Du's
dream correct?  Or is it?  Or isn't it?
   FIND OUT IN SECTION 3 OF STAR WARS: A NEW ENEMY.
   Please note that I have no idea when this one'll see the light!
   I'll be going to Uni very soon, and I don't think I'll be able to sit 
   in front of my brother's computer for twelve hours a day playing games
   in between writing parts of this.  Hope to have it done soon, though.
   should be good.  I hope.
   Can you all tell me what you think of this story, please?  It seems 
   the first section of ANE was well-received, I want to know if this one'll
   be the same.


