The Rebel Faction

" Reversion to realspace:o ne minute."

The bridge of the Interdictor, command ship of "Admiral" Arelius, had been remodeled since the capture of Gallinore and the placement under New Imperial command of a small task force. The bridge was now permanently dark, the light of stars and command consoles the only ominous illumination. Pained on the catwalk was the New Imperial Crest: the Imperial Emblem with crossed daggers through it center.

Four Carrack Cruiers, modified to carry four torpedo launchers, along with four Lancer Frigates wre attached to the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> War Monger<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, formerly the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Risk Factor.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

" Reverting: now!"

" Excellent."

From the bow viewports could be seen the planet of Falleen, the home of the infamous Prince Xizor. Above was a wealth of freightor traffic, less than thirty percent military. Of that total, less than ten percent carried weaponry.

" Admiral!" called the ship's commader, former GDI officer wh had been lured under the New Imperial Banner.

" Yes?"

" We read two Star Destroyers in orbit!"

" Threat assessment?" Arelius asked, turning his high-backed Permllian leather chair aft towards the tactical station.

" Minimal."

" Oh?" Arelius asked, making himself a promise: if the Destroyers were actually a threat, he would have to devise a special form of execution for he incompetent officer.

" Yes, sir. We've detected heavy combat damage. Their hulls register as 28 percent compromised, the planet-ward ship missing its port generator dome. Weaponry reads as minimal-"

" Admiral! The closest Destroyer is broadcasting a Medical IFF."

" Really." The "Admiral" stood and strode aft. At the edge of the crew pit, he stopped and spun fore. " Open fleet-wide signal:

" The ships opposite us are crewed with Imperial Pretenders. The planet below is infested with false Imperials. Their fate has been sealed by their choice. They will die."

The channel was closed, and Arelius glimmered down to the fleet ops officer. In his eyes raged villany. And rage.

" Send forward our fast attack ships. Maximum speed. They are to release their payload on the nearet Destroyer. Second pass, eliminate the other."

The GDI officer, the only one remaining on the command deck, nodded. His arrogance and skill had kept him alive.

From the task force, a quartet of Carracks shot off towards the Imperial-class Star Destroyers, each barely aware of the imcoming attack.

Only Fallen Defense Command was aware, and fighters had been dispatched to assist.

However, they would be no help, for they would not arrive in time.

Line Captian Mallek Gertallya had looked forward to a night of sleep, which would, as usual be less than peaceful. The nigtmare of Hoth continued to play over in the officer's mind. The explosion, the retreat, the perverbial wound licking.

Worse still were the reports of siegeo several Jutraalian worlds.

One of which houed the Captain;s family. Togoria.

The Destroyer boe the marks of battle: almost all of her hull was covered with carbon scorning and pock marked with dents and steel abrasions. If a metallic beat could look sad, his ship did. Bits of Jileeak station had buffeted the ship, some puncturing the weakened shields. Without firing a shot, her and another Impstar Deuce had been nearly knocked out of commission.

Thus they sat over the world of Falleen, a dozen field repair vesses attending them at all hours, engineers and technicians scampering about, almost under the remaining crew's boots, tying to get weapons and shields ito a semblance of working order.

In the flight from Hoth, thousans of wounded were taken from the other escapees and piled aboard Gertallya's ship. So many that the number of non-combatants outnumbered the barely functioning 6,000 man crew by four times.

So many that the transponder had been changed to inicate their charges.

It was wth those and many more thoughts on his head that Gertallya exited the primary port corridor to his quarters.

Barely was his tunic undone when he began to relive the battle. He remembered his ship violently rocking as kiloton chunks of durasteel flew at his bridge. He rmembered being knocked down by the force of an impact, blood running down his forehead.

Gertallya reached to his forehead, feeling the unhealed scar. On bringing it to his focusd eyes, he saw blood on it. He felt crimson liquid oozing down his face.

He was not having a dream, a harsh realization that came as the decking shook under him.

Rushing into the corridor, his tunic open and dishevled, he gazed out with hundred other officers at what had caused their discomfort: four Carracks were heading towards the near defenseless titans, turbolasers blazing.

Into his comm, Gertallya spat " Shields-"

From the floor below him, fire erupted, steel decking shooting in every direction. The transpristeel shattered, shredding all in a hundred meter radius. The expansive corridor was filled with fire and molten metal.

Abov, theCarrcks thundered past, heavy torpedoes having been looed on the hapless medical vessel.

Fire belched from the port side, what guns remained, incinerated. The worst, however, was not over...