For those of you in the know, a certain You -tube channel recently hosted my dialogue, and I was very happy. In my joy, I wrote this little prologue, and was asked to make a full story. So I have. As always, I would love to hear you comments, criticisms, and ideas. This will be a departure from my usual content, but as I can't calm down, I figured this would be easy to make. I would recommend watching the Gallant Wing's breakdown before reading.
Wings of the Empire:
Historical holographic recording begins now. Romulus, Senate Chambers, circa unknown.
"The Romulan Senate is now in session, Praetor D'Deridex presiding. Addressee to the Council: Commander Renar T'Lon, of the Warbird Inquisitor."
The council falls silent, with the purple-robed Praetor gesturing slightly with his hand towards the officer at the entrance to the room. Then he speaks, his voice full and young, especially for one of his rank.
"Commander, I am told you bring the Senate gifts? Prizes from your recent excursion into the unknown planes of existence."
The Commander bows slightly and steps forward onto the map of the Neutral Zone that dominates the floor.
"I do, your Excellency. It is certain to baffle even the wisest of our nation for some time."
The subtle wording does not go unnoticed by the Senate members, many of whom roll their eyes or sigh. The Praetor smiles in good humor.
"You may address the council before your presentation, if that is your wish. I am certain we would all enjoy being enlightened by the words of a fine officer in our navy, and a master of a raptor, no less."
The Senate begins the shift around in their seats, attempting to get comfortable while the Commander begins the usual long-winded speech that will either be about his life and earn him a political position somewhere, or about his military career, which will garner him a promotion, or perhaps he will say something the Tal Shiar disapprove of and simply vanish the next morning. They don't really care, and they've learned to tune it out, anyways.
"I thank you, Praetor D'Deridex. Then I shall endeavor to illuminate this council without boring them."
Empty promises, most of them believed.
"Eighteen months ago, my vessel encountered an unstable wormhole entrance, as it was prompted to seek out. Like the dozens before, we attempted to direct its stabilization and target a position on the far side of the Neutral Zone."
There was a stiffening from the audience. No story or speech? No, he was simply giving the report. What game was this? The senate became intrigued.
"Like many before it, we projected the vector of the aperture's exit to cross that of the enemy planet Earth, and so went through. When we emerged, we were left adrift, and attempted to passively scan the area we'd been taken to. Our vector was correct. The distance and time, were not. After analyzing distant stars and galactic formations with our computer's imaging sensors, we found we'd traveled to a galaxy that our conventional engines could never reach for sixty four billion years. Oddly enough, if we were to have traveled from our exit point to Earth, going perfectly straight and at maximum warp, we would have arrived the same day we left. It seems fate has an interesting humor, sending us back, a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away..."
Some of the senate laughed at his joke, but others simply scowled. Yet more failures, they might be thinking.
"However, we did not emerge alone. Our passive sensors detected a vessel was watching our exit, one which we had never seen the like of, except in one classified military report from Commander Keras."
The image of the Chimaera appears on a holographic projection above the commander's head.
"Three hundred and one thousand standard meters in length, with a mass that is nigh-unattainable for us to put into standard motion. And yet, this was alone, in the middle of empty space, with thousands of black holes within our scanning range, but not one stellar group. Notice too, it has no nacelles, embedded or otherwise. This warship could have torn us asunder, and laid siege to the entire Star Empire on its own! Yet... it did not. Instead, it simply waited, and watched. So we waited, and watched it as well. My engineering tactician, who could not be here with me today, tells me that their armor alone could withstand conventional weaponry better than some shields, and that their shields are unlike any we've seen before. Like great Federation deflectors, but unfocused and around the entire ship. Physical weapons would be literally bounced off the ship's signature, and energy dispersed. Our newest and deadly plasma cannon would be worthless against even the smallest ship using it!"
Now there were hints of fear and interest. The Praetor himself was watching closely now.
"I would not stand such a threat to conquer my home. I love my people, my nation, and my home planet. I have since I was a boy, waiting tables at my grandmother's restaurant, and at the military academy where the commandant told me on graduation day: 'T'Lon, if ever you rise to the rank of commander, and hold more power than a freighter or barge, truly the empire has come to its darkest hour.' And I tell you plainly, he was correct. Not for why we have come to this darkest hour, but when. I downloaded as many unencrypted files from the enemy vessel as I could, and not I possess star charts and basic history for the entirety of their own Empire. This, Galactic Empire, holds territory across its entire galaxy, and moves with speed across it that dwarfs even the fastest Federation vessel by millions of times! They can build ships the size of stations we only make with the most optimal circumstances, and they have weapons powerful enough to turn planetary surfaces to molten glass within moments! If we were to gain even a tenth of that knowledge, our tactical advantages would grow untold. But while the wormhole that leads there is still stable, I fear for what may come through before or after we attempt to cross again. While we did manage to beam off a few minor pieces of technology in areas that were not fully shielded, they are largely useless. A small hand-weapon, armor of a biped, a robotic box that whistles, and a bipedal android that seems to speak their languages. But the information we retrieved is the true prize. We discovered, that of the hundreds of thousands of crew, soldiers, and officers aboard that ship, only one was an unidentified alien. The rest, were humans."
Shock, horror, and anger move throughout the senate, and one woman even pounds her fist against the table in rage.
"Yes, my lords and ladies of the senate. Humans pervade that entire empire, crushing all those alien to them, and yet thriving like the virus they are. Their lust for power, territory, and resources knows no bounds, and they will strike through to our side soon, make no mistake. I do not know what the council will do with my gifts, and I care little either way. I am a soldier of the empire, and I am headed back into that galaxy. I will gather the knowledge and technology to arm our people against this foe, and then build us a fleet in your name, Praetor. One that will not simply defend against the Galactic Empire, but one that will strike fear into the hearts of the Federation, and the Klingons alike. When we show the Galactic Empire we cannot be taken and assimilated, we will instead take foot-hold in their territory and strike down their powerful as we have for other nations of misguided. While one wing covers the Alpha Quadrant, another will spread to cover the distant past galaxy. I know not if other ships will join me, and it may be that the wormholes will close and cut us off from that point forever, but I will not be dissuaded from my actions! The raptor does not defend or cower, but attacks from the unknown above, and evades the strikes of lesser beings. Will I be alone in emulating our patron beast?!"
Silence followed the question, but the Praetor did not remain still. He stood, and opened his arms wide.
"No, you will not be alone. The Gallant Wings and some of our other ships are nearing time for refit and retirement. Yet how can we squander such tools in such a desperate time? A fleet of sixteen ships shall be assembled at the Imperial Shipyards above Hobus IV, and when they are finished with their repairs and refits, they shall follow you into this other galaxy. Cloaked, you shall seek out the technology and information you say is our key to victory, and then return here again with your second prizes. Is there any dissent?"
The senate did not shift. They were unanimous.
"Then I move that we place this delicate action under the direction of someone who has experience in these matters. I move that the command of the task force be to Admiral T'Lon."
The vote, was again: unanimous.
Recording ends.
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Please tell me your thoughts. I am not a doctor on the manner of these two universes' technology or terminology, though I am a master.