AN: This is an idea that wouldn't let me alone. It came to me while I was mussing on the next update of my on going ASOIF story. Before I get really going, I would need to do a lot of world building and I'll probably make a threat to bounce ideas off anyone who's interested in the concept. While I have some ideas where I want the plot to go, a lot of the details would depend on the changes made by reimagining GoT in a sci-fi setting so that needs to be taken care off first.

Disclaimer: I don't own A Song of Ice and Fire or the Game of Throne books, TV series or games. They belong to their creators, publishers and/or copyright owners. This story is not written with profit in mind. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.

A Song of burning stars

The Bard Prince

=ASBS=

Admiral's quarters

Targaryen's Pride

Flagship of Second Royal Fleet

En route to the Trident System

Rhaegar Targaryen, the Crowned Prince of the Kingdom of Westeros was sitting in the small yet lavishly furnished cabin set aside for a fleet's commander. His gaunt, exhausted face was a far cry from the looks that helped him win the tittle of a Bard Prince.

He was sitting in a comfortable armchair with a forgotten glass of wine in hand, while his gaze was staring into a holo-image of a Dragon. Not the mythical flying lizards that were the namesakes of the Targaryen's source of power, but the real thing – four an half kilometers long brick of armor and weapons that had no peer in known space, and that was saying something considering that most of the galaxy had been explored for thousands of years.

It was too bad that the last Dragon ship as his family and most common folk called them, was destroyed more than a century ago during the Dance. Even a single such behemoth in the control of the Crown could have averted the bloodbath gripping the Kingdom.

Rhaegar chuckled darkly. Who was he kidding? His father's madness would have found a way to sunder the realm and provoke a rebellion. The sides might have been different, but the outcome was inevitable. The prince shook his head sadly. He should have acted sooner to remove his father. He shouldn't have let his obsession with prophecy blind him for the consequences… Yet, Lyanna swore to him that she left multiple messages ensuring that her father and brother would know that she wasn't kidnapped.

He believed her. That and his infatuation with the wild young woman were enough to convince him that disappearing within the old and supposedly abandoned station called the Tower of Joy was a good idea.

Rhaegar sighed, cursing his stupidity again. Just two weeks out of contact beyond the electromagnetic cloud surrounding the Tower and the realm was thrown into a war. Aerys… The prince ground his teeth as images from his father's worst wildfire stunt flashed in front of his eyes.

Aerys burned a Lord Paramount alive while the whole realm watched. Arranged that the man's son would strangle himself on live TV, as a bonus too. It was a miracle that when Rhaegar came back from his seclusion the Targaryens had retained any support.

He closed his eyes and groaned. Meeting with Lords from Dorne, the Reach and his own sworn men from the Dragonstone sector had been painful. He had to make a lot of concession to retain their support. In victory the power of the crown was going to be curtailed.

In defeat… He and his family would be dead. It wasn't like he had any choice in the matter, even if his father's paranoia as of late actually wasn't baseless. The flurry of arranged marriages and engagements just before the Tourney at Harrendal was mighty suspicious. Varys and his agents had their ideas, just as Rhaegar and anyone not blind did.

However, it didn't matter if half the Kingdom has been building an alliance to potentially overthrow the Targaryens. Aerys and his insane stunt guaranteed a civil war and almost sealed the Dragon's fate then and there.

Rhaegar stood up, leaving his wine glass on the arm-rest. The fleet was going to be in position tomorrow. With a lot of luck, they might get there before the rebels arrived in force, however all scouts and probes reported the same – it was going to be mightily close – the matter of hours. The enemy was already in system and all would depend how long the garrisons could hold. It was going to be too close for comfort, especially given the Trident System's strategic importance and what the damn place was.

The prince dragged himself towards the bed, though he knew that without medical assistance he wasn't going to get a wink of sleep. The fucking Trident – one of thousands remnants of the First Men's scientific and engineering wonders littering the galaxy. Just like the mighty fortress system of Moat Calin, the Trident was a doorway – a double star system with jump-points located too damn close to planetary bodies for comfort. A massive asteroid belt covered most of the system, one littered with mines, defense platforms and battle stations protected by kilometers of rock, thick sheets of battlesteel, shield generators and as many weapons as huge generators buried deep under the asteroid fortresses could power.

To make matter's worse, the Trident was the only direct route in the heart of the River's sector in the region. A flanking maneuver would have mandated weeks of travel and dozens of jumps, which in this case was irrelevant. The system was divided, thanks to almost half its garrison remaining loyal when the rebellion started. The Royal fleet and it's Dornish reinforcements wouldn't need to make a jump-point assault against a planetoid worth of weapons and defenses if they got there in time.

They just needed to get there before the Rebels could seize or neutralize the loyalist standpoints, and then park their whole damn fleet on the jump-point. That was a big concern. After all, a powerful mobile fleet had a lot of advantages when assaulting a fixed position, even if it was a planet turned fortress. Considering that the enemy didn't need to fight a jump-point assault to enter the Trident, they had the numbers to take out the loyalists and deny the system to the Targaryens. Rhaegar would need to be at least as crazy as his father to order an assault on a point guarded by the bulk of the Rebel forces.

What was worse, with Aerys still alive on the Iron Throne in King's Landing, Rhaegar was the one pressed for time. As long as his father remained in power, the Targaryens would continue to lose support. With his children and wife as hostages, the prince was trapped just like the Dornish in supporting his father.

For the time being at least. There were plans in place to deal with the madman once the Rebels were taken care of.

That was the main reason why Rhaegar had gathered most of his available forces and marched them towards the Trident. It was a challenge for Robert Baratheon, one his cousin couldn't help but accept.

Rhaegar couldn't help but hope that this battle would be the last major engagement of the Rebellion. If he managed to take out Robert, that might be enough. At the very least such a success would buy him enough time to deal with his father and perhaps cut a deal with the Lannisters, who have been quiet so far. Too quiet.

The Prince fell into his bed, without bothering to remove his boots.