The Ad Valorem
Meccheon System
The
Ad Valorem came out of hyperspace in the Meccheon System, and the ship came face to face with what was the neutral system: six planets, two barren of life, three barely sustaining life, and one with a few small colonies. The reason the
Valorem had entered Meccheon was because of the massive refueling center: Omega. Omega was split into three: Thirteen levels of refueling stations, seven levels of shops, hotels, and restaurants, and two levels composed of docking stations. All were spread out to create an uneven-looking space station, all connected by spindle fibers of bridges.
“Lieutenant, prepare for docking.” Bacredi chimed into his com, as the two pilots of the
Valorem were placed at the helm of the ship, while the bridge was a hundred yards back, protected by more than enough armor plating. “God I hate neutral system—it really shows that they have no guts.” He said o no one in particular.
“Copy, docking procedures commenced,” Lieutenant O’Floinn, the Chief Pilot of the
Valorem, replied. Bacredi looked up at one of the bridge’s data screens, realizing how low his ship’s fuel levels actually were. “We’re going to coast on in and they’ll pick us up with one of their wells.”
“Copy, yeomen, signal the Omega, request permission to dock and refuel.” Bacredi tapped a button on his high-tech captains chair, something he wasn’t used to on the new ship.
“Affirmative,” said the yeomen across the room, speaking into her headset.
“Jack, can you ready my shuttle, please?” The Commander of the Watch—basically the second in command, even though Bacredi refused to assign one—Jack Wintson turned face to face with Bacredi. He only nodded and tapped a few buttons on a screen in front of him, and in the
Ad Valorem’s hangar the Conqueror IX, a Lamba, was being readied for takeoff.
“Where are you going, sir?” asked Jack, intrigued.
“The frigate
Epsiloni Sunrise is docked on Omega for a few days, and the captain’s an old friend of mine. I’d like to go see him, please watch the ship.”
The Conqueror IX
Meccheon System
The
Conqueror IX landed on Omega, in the leisure section. All the other spots were taken in the landing docks and refueling center and Bacredi didn’t want to fork out a large landing fee for a private spot. As the ship landed, Bacredi walked out, full Imperial uniform and all, and was met by five guards.
“I.D. please,” asked the head guard, who appeared at least 6 inches shorter than all of the other ones.
“May I ask what this is all about?” Bacredi handed him his Imperial credentials. Under that was his VII clearance card, with a big “RETIRED” stamped under it, signifying he had no clearance anymore.
“Standard custom check,” the man briskly typed Bacredi’s code into a datapad. “Welcome to Omega Relay, we hope you enjoy your stay.” He handed Bacredi back his I.D., which he put in his back pocket. The short walk—with many guards staring at him and the yeoman accompanying him—towards the customs doors felt like it took an hour. Both of them, however, looked suspicious—both were carrying a pistol, both were wearing full Imperial garb, and both were similar looking.
Outside of the customs check was a huge turbolift which connected two floors up with a train-like system, and all around them was a melting pot of races in a melting pot of shops. “Up here, I’ve only been here once, and I really don’t remember it…” they both went into the turbolift, entered the train and then, five minutes later got off in the landing pad section of Omega. A hundred or so small fighters had landed here, and two large ships—one appeared to be New Republic; the other was the
Epsiloni Sunrise—was here as well. “There she is, do you see a loading tube anywhere?”
The Epsiloni Sunrise
Meccheon System
“Well, Zhar, how’s it been?” said Lieutenant Commander Fischer, the captain of the Epsiloni Sunrise and Zhar’s former XO on the Daring, said, handing Bacredi a glass of whiskey.
“It’s been fine, I mean it has been a year, but the new ship I got—the
Ad Valorem—is a beauty.” Bacredi had recommended, even if it didn’t mean much, that Fischer was given a command. Obviously after his recent performance with the 7th Fleet it probably didn’t mean much, but his performance had still garnered him a command.
“Yeah, the
Sunrise is a beauty herself, too.” Fischer took a sip of his whiskey and pressed his finger to his ear—he always had an earpiece in. “When? Okay, I’ll be down soon.”
“Zhar, I suggest you get back to your ship. Two NR warships just entered the system on the far side of Meccheon II.” He grabbed Bacredi’s whiskey and threw it onto the desk that he was near.
“So? I thought this system was neutral.” Bacredi didn’t get up.
“They’re at general action stations, and their squadrons have been deployed.”
Omega Relay
Meccheon System
Bacredi and his yeoman were walking very fast towards the turbolift, and in the background was a small speech about God knows what.
“…we know when they are around us. We know they want the Meccheon System. Will we let them have it? No…
Bacredi kept walking, and entered the turbolift. They were in the train a few seconds later.
“Have you reached the
Conqueror yet?” Bacredi asked the yeoman, whose name he had figured out by now was Wilcox.
“No…it seems like our com system is down.”
“…we have officially signed onto the Charter of the New Republic, and the Meccheon System is no longer neutral in this fight. We will…”
“Shit.” Bacredi thought aloud. The train stopped at the leisure section, which was completely deserted. The short walk to the gates was taken in a jog, and a guard stepped out from his post.
“Stop!” he drew his pistol, but the yeoman was one step ahead of him. The guard fell to the ground as Wilcox fired another shot into him. They boarded the
Conqueror IX with no real resistance. The ship had obviously heard the speech given by the head of the Meccheon System, and they were prepared to go.
The Conqueror IX
Meccheon System
“
Ad Valorem this is your captain, are we down refueling?” Bacredi commed to them, standing above the two pilots of the Lamba.
“Captain this is cow—” Commander of the Watch, what he had decided to call himself “—we have enough fuel to bug out, we just can’t get past their gravity wells.
“Give me a sec,” Bacredi turned to the communications officer. “Get me stations control on Omega.” The woman nodded and patched him through. “Stations control this is Captain Zhar Bacredi of the Dreadnaught Heavy Cruiser
Ad Valorem, Vast Empire Navy. If you do not let us leave your station we will fire our bow turbolasers and cannons into the station—the refueling sector.”
A minute passed. No response.
“You’re free to leave.”
The Ad Valorem
Meccheon System
“Epsiloni Sunrise this is the
Ad Valorem please form up.” The New Republic warships had been identified as a CR90 and a Lancer, mincemeat for a Dreadnaught and a CR90. “Launch our squadrons,” Bacredi ordered. Two squadrons were stationed on the
Valorem, and he hadn’t seen how they performed.
