The patrol was going smoothly. Six days, and not even a Patrol Ship had crossed their path. General Martin, captain of the RSS New Hope, and commander of the patrol fleet Delta Gamma 5 (1 Cruiser, 2 Destroyers) was beginning to think that they wouldn't see any action at all. Here he was, six days out of port, commanding the RSS New Hope, one of the most advanced ships in the Rebel fleet, and he was stuck on patrol, guarding the Rebel HQ on Palshife. Then, it happened.

"Frigate jumping in, sir." The ensign's words almost didn't make sense. No matter how prepared they were for a fight, there would always be a little panic before an actual battle; nothing could change that.

"Drop the Mantas. Plot an intercept course, then relay those co-ordinates to the Destroyers. Activate the turrets, and ready the heavy rockets, torpedoes, and mass driver." The general sat forward, the excitement of the oncoming onslaught getting the best of him.

The destroyers immediately launched their heavy rockets, hitting the frigate just as it arrived in the system. Torpedoes slammed into its side. Explosions erupted all over the ship. As its shields fell below 60%, it launched its pitiful counter attack.

The frigate's torpedoes hit the New Hope right on its neck. The damage was minimal, but Gen. Martin immediately launched a counter strike.

"Fire the turrets! Activate the mass driver, and aim it at her bridge. Launch the torpedoes, aim 'em at her weapons bay. Tell the Mantas to fire on her engines." The general watched the dying frigate on his view screen. "Engineering," he talked into his wrist com, "divert all secondary power to forward shields."

The cruiser's proton bolts ripped through the frigate's shields, whiles the mass driver shredded its quickly-thinning armor. A torpedo from one of the destroyers slammed into the frigate's torpedo launcher, sealing it shut. The Manta's missiles exploded in her engines, making the frigate unable to move.

"Recall the Mantas. Position us on her starboard side; tell the destroyers to position themselves on her port side. Lets make the 'Feds pay for this. Ready the boarding parties. Launch the torpedoes and fire the mass driver until her shields are down. Tell the destroyers to begin transporting boarding parties into the key areas as soon as her shields drop." The general anxiously watched the frigate's statistics on his console, waiting for her to keel over.

"Her shields are down, sir. Her hull is starting to buckle. I'm sending all of the boarding parties over. The crew will be dead within 10 minutes." The ensign activated the cruiser's transporters, sending a small army onto the drifting hulk. "Sir, I'm receiving reports. We have slain half the crew. Our forces have captured the bridge, engineering, and the cargo hold. We're transporting their fuel to our Manta bays, and transporting their missiles and torpedoes over to the destroyers."

"Good. Shut down all weapons, and prepare the tractor beam. We'll take it down to our base on the planet below. Activate the tractor beam on my mark..."

"Sir," the ensign wheeled around to face the general, "the frigate is too badly damaged to enter the atmosphere. If it had some shields, though, it could make it."

"Very well. Send four repair pods over, and affix shield transponders on these points." He sent a grid pattern to the ensign's console. "We can use the tractor beam to boost the field. Launch the repair pods."

General Martin watched the pods move around the disabled frigate, stopping every so often to put down a transponder on the ship's hull. As soon as they finished, the pods headed back to the cruiser. As soon as they were docked, the transponders were activated. Immediately, a light blue flash appeared on the frigate, indicating that the shields had been activated.

"The transponders are in place and in operation. I have received more reports, sir. We have slain all but the captain, chief engineer, and 7 other crew men, all of whom are being held in their brig. All groups report ready for landing." The ensign turned to receive his next order.

"Activate the tractor beam, and begin the energy transfer." The ship shook slightly as the beam was activated. "Set course for the planet. Fire the impulse engines."

The cruiser, followed by the frigate, made its way toward Palshife. As the two ships entered the planet's inner atmosphere, the cruiser positioned the disabled frigate onto the Rebel landing platform. As the cruiser moved along side of it, the two destroyers moved onto the platforms behind the cruiser. As the ground crews began covering the frigate, the boarding parties began to leave the ships, one by one, and carried out the captured crew members, taking them to the base's jail.

General Martin went down to the disabled frigate to watch the raiding of the ship. As he looked around, he saw an admiral walking swiftly towards him. As he approached, the General saluted him.

"At ease, general. Are you the man who captured this Confederate Frigate?" The admiral asked this question with a stern look on his face. As the general relaxed, he nodded yes. "I am Admiral Smith. Thanks to your capture of this frigate, we may now be able to turn the tables on the Confederation. Imagine, hundreds of fleets of brand new warships, destroying all those who believe in tyranny. General, what do you think of that?" The admiral looked at the general, waiting for his response.

"Well, it is a wonderful dream, sir, but there is one problem: Where would we find the material to build them? The Confederation would destroy any far away mining station. If we could find a source of metal closer by-"

"As a matter of fact," interrupted Smith, "we have. But, before I continue, I must tell you, this is classified information. It would be better if we continued this in my office." He handed Martin an dataCard. "Be there at 1800 hours. Tell the receptionist you are here with me, and she'll direct you to it. Good day." Smith turned and left.

The general just stood there, a little dumfounded. He had been a Rebel for 25 years but never been privy to classified information. Now, with the promise of a new warship on the horizon, he had a chance to give the Rebellion a great gift: the gift of freedom. Now, he had three hours to kill until his meeting. Well, the bar is as good a place to stay as any...

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