STGOD: The Pheonix Wars (Chapter I)

[Dartzap]

"With the Death of General Colface, have you thought of who to replace him Sir?"

"Yes General Flint I have, there is no reason for me to replace him, already i have word of two more Generals coming here from the Home Planets, they bring with them over 900 ships each, of course this means we will have to refit them.. but they will be useful in the long run"

"Who are these two new generals Sir?"

"They are Generals Igneous and Fiddyment, both come highly recomended"

"Indeed, i have heared of those two though i have heared of Fiddyment being a bit of a loose cannon"

"Yes, this is true, however, i have got an Admiral to lead them.. he will have a firm handling of the situation"

"An Admiral?.. oh.." *in his mind General Flint now knew he would loose his position of highest ranking officer in the Fleet this was a day he had been dreading for sometime.* "May i ask who this Admiral is sir?"

"Yes of course you can...you know him very well"

"I do Milord?"

"Well, i'd like to think my top General would know himself.."

" You mean me My lord?!"

"Of couse i do! Congratulations ADMIRAL Flint!"

"Thanks you milord! thank you!"

"Yes yes..now go and prepare for the arrive of Igneous and Fiddyment"

"Of course My Lord!"

[Kreshna Aryaguna Nurzaman]

Darth Kreshna closes his eyes. He enjoyes the warmth of the artificial sun on Death Star's artificial beach, as well as the girls massaging him. Of course, this one New Death Star is costumized to suit his personal taste: five-star residences, clubs, longues, executive gym, tennis fields, and of course a golf course. The design doesn't compromise the defense values, though. If anything, it only raises it cost. But the fifth planet on this solar system has a lot of sattelites to exploit; not to mention the asteroid belts.

Unlike his peers, Inquisitor Kreshna doesn't corrupt the Empire for his own self-interest. In fact, he and Commissioner Petrosjko are among the remaining Imperial high-ranks who's still working for the glory of the Empire.

But this time, Kreshna has chosen to indulge himself a little bit.

He opens his eyes again, then starts examining the delegations; particularly the two prominent figures that of their nations. The first caught his attention is Ra. The System Lord seems to enjoy the treatment; flirting with the beautiful, bikini-clad ladies who are giving him the massage. Ra is, after all, a royalty. He's already used to enjoy such indulgence.

The Borg head representative, on the other hand, makes him feel uncomfortable. It is quite... unusual, seeing a person with so much cybernetic implants drapping on the beach. Who's his name again? Robert Walper? No doubt he was a human before assimilation. He appears to ignore the girls around him.

Finally Darth Kreshna raises up. Something disturbs him: where is Commissar Petrosjko?

The limo-shuttle driver has returned alone, telling that the Imperial Commissar is going to the conference by himself. But it's afternoon now and Petrosjko, or "Josh" as he often call him, has not even showed up. It's pretty unusual: the Commissar always love parties.

As Darth Kreshna is gulping his Pina Colada, he suddenly feels a tremor in the Force. In fact, he almost spills his drink. Then he realized:


Robert Walper: the head representative of the Borg, is strong in the Force.


He lits a cigarette, try to concentrate. As he is probing the Borg's mind, he senses a re-collection of past memories.

"You ...... friend, Robert! ........ rule as my equal, not arrogantly ..........."

........screams in agony as the laval........... his eyes consumed............ ...........Dark Side.

"I HATE YOU!!!"

Hatred.

A consuming hatred that directed to his old friend; Commissioner Petrosjko.


Darth Kreshna feels something creeping through his bones. Fear. Not fear commonly associated with encountering a greater power. In fact, he was trained by Emperor Palpatine himself. He is the Emperor's Reach.

But fear of something he doesn't understand.

What dark secret Petrosjko has been hiding all this time?

But somehow, he suspects, that's the reason why Commissar Petrosjko doesn't attend the conference today.

[Josh]

Petrosjko sits astride a Gungan, bashing his head into the decking.

"Stupid... FREAKING... merchandising... BULLSHIT!"

The door to the holding cell opens. A pair of Stormtroopers stand on either side of a rather battered Tumbletom. They stare in surprise at the gory scene before them.

Just then, Petrosjko's cell-phone beeps at him.

"Hold on guys, email coming through. Hey, I've got great reception out here."

He stands up, reads the message.

"Oh, great, we'll be right over..."

He looks at the door for the first time.

"Oh... shit, we are over."

Kreshna's not going to be happy that his prize Prison Gungans have been exterminated.

He looks at the Stormtroopers.

"Brother Captain! Witnesses!"

"What? PURGE THE WITNESSES!"

Handy bit of conditioning, that.

A hundred bolters tear the Stormtroopers to shreds. Tom slumps to the floor unconscious as the Stormtroopers disintegrate around him.

"Okay... now to arrange the scene.*

He drags Tom's body into the middle of the Gungan massacre, and looks around. Finding a sharpened spoon and a shank, he places them in Tom's hands.

"Okay, yes, time to be going now. Ahem. Teleport 3rd Company back to base."

Flash flash flash.

==========================
Some days are better than others with regards to teleporters. And some days, one would simply swear that Murphy himself was at the controls.
==========================

The 3rd Company appears in the middle of a unit assembly area on another ship, surrounded by tall, graceful, pointy-eared creatures...

"ELDAR! PURGE THE XENOS!"

"Ah... hell... guys, there's a bikini party waiting for me..."

[Kreshna Aryaguna Nurzaman]

It's already late when Kreshna is back at his office. The delegations are still partying outside, but he needs to check some paperworks. Suddenly the phone on his desk rings.

"What." he answered.

"Um, Lord Kreshna? Commissar Petrosjko had arrived."

"Really? When?"

"Two hours ago, sir."

"Then WHY you didn't tell me ealier, you idiot?"

"Uh, there's another, sir, um, milord. Something unpleasant happens in the detention cell grid #2039. Apparently there was a fight among the prison, and uh, sir, all the Gungans have been killed. The murder suspect is the prisoner called 'tumbletom'. We are about to interogate him now".


"He. did. WHAT?"

After calming himself for a moment, Kreshna continues, "forget about the interrogation, Lieutenant. Do you remember the Picard clones? Yes, the crossdressing French with British accent. They're still in prison? Good. Put tumbletom in the same cell with them. And I don't care how, but make them having sex together. Yes, I said sex. S-E-X. Sex."

With that, the Sith Lord slams the phone.

However, the mutilation of the Gungans doesn't really his concern right now. It is the disturbing fact why the Borg head representative is strong in the Force, and why he hates Petrosjko so much.

He needs to meet the Commisioner. It's time for some explanations.

Darh Kreshna heades to the bar.

[Josh]

"TELEPORT! TELEPORT! TELEPORT!"

He's not entirely sure, but he doesn't think they're supposed to be killing the elves this time. Fortunately, the elves dodge better than the Gungans...

The teleporter flashes. Suddenly, the Witch Hammers are back at their base, and the good Commissar is at a bar.

He pauses, looks around.

"Okay... best. Teleporter. Malfunction. Ever. Bartender! Double shot of Cuervo 1800 and keep 'em coming."

He plops down at the bar and downs his shot, when suddenly Darth Kreshna arrives.

"Hey buddy, you would not BELIEVE the day I've had."

[Dartzap]

"My lord.. we have heared that the leader of the Gnomish Forces has ran away and got married to a Durex condom, and is currently on the pleasure island of Wankalot."

"Excellent, prepare one of our Fleets Admiral, we shall invade the Home Planet of the Gnomish horde.."

"Of course My lord"

"By the way Admiral.. what kind of Condom was it?"

"Erm, I beleive it was of the Ribbed Pleasure veriaty"

"Hmmm"

[Ra]

I knew this "commisar" could not be trusted.

*A technician, formerly a mere Human living on Earth, looks up.*

He's a communist, they're th' only ones that have commisars an' that shit. Comrades unite!

Silence, Human. I am deep in thought.

If you are concerned with my welfare, I have remained here, working on my tan. However, several elves were injured by the interloper.

*Ra's eyes flash brighter than usual, denoting great anger.*

Damn it! If he wasn't on Darth Kreshna's side, I would reduce his pathetic Human mind to pulp this instant!

Long have I tolerated him and his racist crusades against the Firstborn. Long have I tolerated his treachery!

And long are you still a fool. The Commisar's meddling is a direct attempt to destroy this alliance, and turn you against the Imperials. You are driven by your desire for vengeance, and you are not yourself. Issue a statement, not cause more bloodshed and only empower the trolls. To fracture this alliance is exactly Detrius' will.

Perhaps you are right.

Perhaps?

[Kreshna Aryaguna Nurzaman]

He plops down at the bar and downs his shot, when suddenly Darth Kreshna arrives.

"Hey buddy, you would not BELIEVE the day I've had."

Darth Kreshna sits in a bar stool next to Petrosjko. He orders tequila for both of them, then speaks,

"Could that wait for a moment? Well I still remember they day you had with the Ferengis but...."

he continues, "...See, I'm going to be direct. Who Robert Walper actually is, and what's the connection with you?"


Kreshna listens for a moment, winces few times, then finally orders another round, "so THAT's your dark secret. Come on, Josh. It's bad enough mutilating someone's limbs, but.... *shudders* no wonder he hates you THAT much."

He paused for a moment, then notices Ra is approaching. He calls out, "hey, Ra! Care for a shot of tequila?"

[Josh]

"Hey... Ra... about that accidental invasion of your ship, y'see, teleporters are funny things..."

Hand slides toward lightsaber under the table, just as a precaution.

[Robert Walper]

No! Robert screamed in his mind. I am my own person...release your cybernetic hold on me!

"SELF DETERMINATION IS IRRELEVENT. YOU MUST COMPLY."

Release me or I will destroy you!

"THREATS ARE IRRELEVENT. YOU WILL SERVICE THE COLLECTIVE."

Trapped in his own mind, Lord Walper fumed. It was one thing to be beaten down by his old Master Petrosjko, quite another to have become a tool for this cybernetic horde, his every movement and action dictated by a hive mind of trillions. Using the Force, Robert probed the Collective hive mind as best he could. But the voices were persistent, relentless in crushing any free will or free thought. Only by severely taxing his inner strength could he obtain any private thought or motivation. However, his physical actions were still completely beyond his control. Slowly, ever so slowly, he found cracks in the hive mind system. Tiny, unnoticed and unimportant for the most part. But it gave him room to gather his strength and force of will back. But the price was high. Already Kreshna had sensed things about Robert he had not intented the Imperial leader to know or suspect. But Robert could only take the price in stride...gaining his own mastery back was priority. And suddenly, almost by chance, he stumbled upon it. A central will of the Collective. A single being...or was it? Mentally it appeared singular, yet seemed to stretch into all aspects of the Collective.

A point of attack! Robert thought. Slowly he mustered his inner strength and prepared to destroy the AI unit.

WHY DO YOU RESIST? IT IS FUTILE.

Walper mentally recoiled. The voice was that of the Borg, but feminine. And extremely powerful...he'd barely survived the thought directed at him.

Because I'm more powerful than you! Robert thought viciously.

BRAVE WORDS. I'VE HEARD THEM BEFORE. FROM THOUSANDS OF SPECIES ACROSS THOUSANDS OF WORLDS, SINCE WAY BEFORE YOU WERE EVER BORN. NOW...THEY ARE ALL BORG.

Mentally, Robert smiled. But with one exception, your majesty.

YOUR FORCE POWERS ARE PART OF US NOW, ROBERT. YOU CANNOT WIN.

Then explain this! Robert mentally roared. Suddenly Robert silenced his resistance to the hive mind, and by virtue, the Queen mind suppressing him. The sudden lack of resistance caught the Queen off guard, and it was the only break Robert needed. With his intense hatred and rage fueling his mastery of the Dark Side, Lord Walper silenced the Queen unit by virtue of mental death.

Throughout all space, every Borg vessel, drone and facility just...stopped. This cost several Borg vessels engaged in combat, as they were prompted destroyed without any hive mind controller directing their efforts. Suddenly all ships, drones and facilities became active again. The hesistation hadn't lasted longer than a minute.

Deep inside the recently contructed Borg Unicomplex, stood a feminine figure. Her eyes snapped into focus, glancing at the surrounding monitors and drones.

"Much better." said Lord Walper. The feminine figure smiled.

[Ra]

He paused for a moment, then notices Ra is approaching. He calls out, "hey, Ra! Care for a shot of tequila?"

I would.

*Ra then turns to Petro.*

However, let me make this clear to you, Commisar. I am your ally, or at least I thought. You will end your attacks on the Eldar. No terms, no negotiation.

*Grabs a bottle.*

Now that that's over with...

[Josh]

"Don't you mean elves?"

Takes a drink, hand still on lightsaber. Trust no one. It was a good policy.

[Ra]

Elf, Eldar, Firstborn, Quendi, whatever. Like you even heed the words of a "foul xeno". *chuckles*
- Ra

[Kreshna Aryaguna Nurzaman]

<sigh> Alright, knock it off, guys! Just because we're getting drunk doesn't mean we're not having a war out there.

Now how about another round? *orders some more tequila*


While his two friends glare at each other suspiciously, Kreshna sighs.First the Borg representatives have some grudge against the Commissar, and now Ra.... Great, he thinks, Lord Detritus would arrange a barbeque party if he knows this.

[Josh]

He nods, taking another drink.

"Good point. It's nothing personal, but we have this whole 'Litany of Hatred for the Xenos' and so on. A job's a job. But hey, we're all off duty now anyway."

[Dartzap]

"Admiral.the Gnomish Homeworld is now ours, there was no resistence"

"Excellent, I shall inform Lord Detritus immideitly, deploy the building craft, i want this planet as defended as the Last Bottle of Coprolite's wine"

"Of course My lord"

[Ra]

He nods, taking another drink.

"Good point. It's nothing personal, but we have this whole 'Litany of Hatred for the Xenos' and so on. A job's a job. But hey, we're all off duty now anyway."

*laughs as he takes another shot of Tequila*

Of course, of course. Just seeing if you were awake.

*Galadriel walks up, flanked by two Kull Warriors, just in case.*

Whilst thou have been beating your chests and behaving as fools, the fourth planet has been overrun by the trolls. The enemy is moving.

*Petro and Ra exchange looks.*

[Dartzap]

*Four hours earlier before the drinks and booze started running*

The spy had done his job, everything was in place, he dropped the small ball under one of the seats, it looked like a discarded cigar holder*


*The present*

The Ball opens and a hologram appears, between the Commisars Legs*

"Lord Detritus here, On behalf of the Trollish imperuim, I request a truce, which I would like to hold for some three of your three day cycles"

"... Really Commisar, is such langauge really required.. you have also got your drink all over the system lord as well.. i'm sure the stains will wash out of the gold thread.."

"It is my Job to ensure the survival of the Trollish people, I know you wll have noticed what we have done with the 4th planet, but that is just so we can grow some fine wine for the Officers, as you know, they need to keep their morale up"

"Detritus out"

[Destructionator XV]

In the A'millian Central Headquaters on a planet in a far away galaxy, there sits Lord Adam in his full dress uniform, at his right a beautiful Lady in a similar uniform, and down the table sits a computer which has a direct link back to the Destructionator mainframe, a battered Destructionator XIII who narowly made it back home after the battle at the transwarp conduit, and a number of other organic humanoids, wearing various types of military uniforms.

The Lord speaks:

"I have just received the full report about the happenings in the other galaxy. I lost 6 of my starships and hundreds of my Lesser Destructionator androids. The Picard army has been all captured or killed, and 2 of my newest Destructionators are either POWs or dead. This is not the way I wanted this recon mission to turn out."

And the Destructionator Mainframe:

"I have already began reconstruction of the lost units. They will be ready in about a week."

Destructionator XIII:

"The surving ships from the fleet have met up with your 128th combat fleet stationed in that galaxy. We have a full A'millian base now, and one of our own transwarp conduits, heavily defended with both stationary and mobile defenses. As of now, none of them know of the existance of these forces."

"But we know what trying to be secretive cost us last time. I recommend an overwhelming force to destroy the enemy."

"Sir, our intellegence units still in the area have informed us that the enemy has a huge number of Borg, Goa'uld and Empire vessels, including a Death Star, an armoured moon-sized battlestation with the power to destroy an entire planet in one shot."

"And they have powerful Sith Lords, with Force powers similar, but weaker, to your own magics, my lord."

Upon hearing this, Lord Adam and the Lady take a quick glance at each other, then both look down to a middle aged man sitting at the table. All three of them are wearing swords, the sign of being a Magical Knight. Using a sword for anything except for supernatural combat is downright stupid with modern weapons.

"Grand Admiral, how many starships and troopers can we spare to use in this galaxy?"

A man in a maroon jacket starts to punch up data on his computer console, then speaks.

"If we pull a few starships off safe places here and there throughout our territory.... we can get about five full sector fleets ready within a day or two. 75 high end capships with some of their escort ships, about 4 light crusiers or destroyers each.... 375 additional warships with their snub fighter wings can be ready to deploy to the other galaxy within 24 hours. In addition to the 128th defensive fleet already there and the remenants of the Destructionator fleet, we will have a fleet 450 warships strong. However, I'm afraid, that is all we can possibly spare."

"Most excellent. With that many ships, even the dreadful superweapons of the Empire will fall to our might. Destructionator, what of this Trollish Kingdom who assisted you in battle?"

"They fought very well and with honour, my lord. I suggest we formalize our alliance with them."

The Lord takes one look at the Lady, and she know what he was planning. He was going to lead this fleet himself. It would be far too dangerous to send the two most important people in the empire into battle together, so she would have to stay here. She barely nods to show her approval of the plan.

"Then it's settled. Prepare my ship, and get this fleet together. We move out in 30 minutes. Dismissed."

Everyone rises up and gets to their assigned tasks. Today would be a big day.

[Dartzap]

"My Lord Detritus, we have secured the 4th planet, and building on the defences is well on the way"

"Very good Admiral, you have done very well"

*Flint Bows* "thank you, My lord"

*The Transmission ends*

"Do you think the plan will work my Lord?"

"Yes Commander, I do, if our enemys do go there, then we are ready if they bring out the big guns"

"Of course my Lord"

"Have we heared anything from those people we helped earlier ?"

"Yes milord, we understand that one of their leaders is heading a large expansion and conquer fleet to this galaxy. Intelliegnce suggests that they may offer an Alliance with us"

"Excellent! We need allies Commander, and they have proven themselves competent in battle, if they do send a formal request, be sure to positivly acknoledge it"

"Of course My lord"

[Robert Walper]

Lord Walper, currently residing in the physical body of the previously Borg Queen, stands observing the monitors before him. Information scrolls across the displays at remarkable speed.

He nods. "Most Interesting...crudely simplistic, but effect to a degree." Battle plans are laid out on the displays, showing every Borg ship and facility in operation. Current readings indicated most Borg activity was on standby, awaiting his directions.

All ships return to Borg space. Ignore all targets and combat zones. Maximum speed.

Nodding, statisfied his will was in action, Walper turn to a nearby display. But this time it was not the information he looked at, but rather his reflection.

"Not quite my type..." he muttered. "Bring my previous body to this chamber immediately." The verbal command was unnecessary, thought alone was sufficient. But he felt more comfortable verbalizing it anyhow.

Less than a second passed and the body materialized before Lord Walper. "You had the right idea, your majesty." Robert commented looking at his hand that was not really his own. "But you failed to truely realize the potential you had within your grasp. Trust that I will not."

Again, Lord Walper glanced at a display console. On the viewer, drones were seen to be constructing a new chamber, not entirely unlike a Borg maturation chamber. Walper pointed at his previous body; a drone stepped up to it and took a sample of the organic tissue. It was then fed into a sampling core, which analysed the DNA and began to replicate it at a incredible rate. While the drones did their work, Lord Walper looked upon a much larger console, clearly the primary one of the control center. Displayed was a image of himself, his true self, encased in advanced Borg armor. Despite the obvious Borg design, the model image of himself lacked the typical cumbersome appearance of any drone. Technical readouts flashed:

Hyperalloy armor composite - 100% Complete
Multi-dimensional shielding - 100% Complete
DNA replication - 23.67% Complete
Midichorian staturation level - 60,000


Lord Walper smiled. "Soon..."

[Dartzap]

"My Lord Detritus, our sensors have detected mass borg movement - however it all seems very erratic, they seem to be moving all over the place, through battlezones and established borders, but they all seem to be heading in the same direction..the Borg homeworld."

"Intresting.. perhaps there has been a change of heart in the Collective.. like that would happen.. or perhaps.. a change of leadership.., what do we know of the leadership of the Borg?"

"I'm afraid not alot Sir, though we have heard of some Monachastic leadership, headed by a Queen."

"Hmm, i guess we shall see what happens then.. keep the Border at high alert.. let nothing by if its stopping there"

"Of course My lord"

[Josh]

"Ah yes, invasion of the fourth planet and so on. Trolls, you say? Mutant scum, say I. I do believe it's time to get to work."

Polishes off shot of tequila, then teleports out before the bar tab arrives.

=====================
"Well men, we've had a good day of slaughtering xenos filth all over. Now it's time to kill some mutated rogue Ogryns. To battle!"

"To battle!

=====================

With a flash of light and a distortion of the fabric of reality itself, the Witch Hammers arrive for battle.

[Anonymous]

At the edge of the system several thousand small vesselÂ’s, rather plate like in shape with revolving pods dropped out of lightspeed.

Inside the command ship the Supreme Dalek observed the monitor screens around it. To the side a doorway creaked open. A grey and black chancellor Dalek entered the room and gilded to a halt

The Supreme Dalek faced its subordinate and a low grating voice pierced the silence

‘Report on are current status’

‘We have reached the edge of the warzone and are proceeding to the asteroid identified as the Troll main base’

‘Send a level 5 message informing them of our arrival’

‘I Obey’

‘We will conquer all, the race known as the Borg shall be the first target for Extermination!’

‘I obey’

with that the fleet of ships moved into the fray, destroying a rouge Borg cube on there way by

[Dartzap]

"Lord Detritus, your allys the Daleks have Arrived"

"Ah excellent, i'm sure the Borg will find a freind with them.. hehheh.."

"Indeed my lord, shall we send a welcome message?"

"Yes Yes.."Welcome to the party, the metal polish is under the door frame", yes that should do it.."

"Of course my Lord"