an Unknown Empire

[Sovereign Officer]

Orbital Control Platform Trellian
Above the northern pole of Thyferra



Home is where my heart rests now,
Where it shall always remain.
Duty demands I abandon it
So others may abstain.

A thousand leagues I see you from,
This great distance filled with pain.
My hope is that someday
I shall be under our sun’s ray.



Commander Mait Yerlinn read the words of Simmean Sreppit, poet and pioneer of Bespin’s many cities, and hoped for the solace they had brought so many others. It was want in coming. Try as he might, he could not calm himself from the anxiety and fear raging through his heart and mind.


Over the internal audio system, a symphony of Donius played at minimum volume; the soothing pulses of the relaxing music did their best to ease the piece’ sole listener. He paced to and fro, hands clasped behind his back. Eclipsing all sight from the five port viewports was the mass of Trellian Station, causeways crossing paths, lifts rising and falling, small trainer craft buzzing between the Dreadnaught Majesty and the freight-ports.


“ Damn you, Desaria!” Yerlinn muttered, fearful to speak such words louder than a whisper, but meaning every word of it. One of the Grand Admiral’s many plans had brought the promising career of the twenty-six year old line officer to a close. “ Wild Space! One Dreadnaught against a hoarde of pirates and brigands. We’ve the chance of a wampa on Yavin!”


Almost as if a response to the Commander’s rantings, the shipwide intercom chimed twice, the signal a message for the Captain only.


“ Captain,” said a bridge officer, addressing the commander with the traditional title,” Trellian reports eighty percent of transfer complete. Shall we commence engine start-up?”


The Commander rolled his eyes at the Admiral’s orders that he shut down his main reactor while docked – it was not standard procedure. Whatever the legion of engineers were doing aboard his ship required little power. “ Yes. Commence start up when Lieutenant Yarr gives you the all-clear.”


“ Aye sir, bridge out.”


Yerlinn shook his head then looked out at the station. Below the warship in the Imperial Military Orbital Command Platform could be seen some of the northern parts of Thyferra. Green commanded the view, small wisps of blue and white struggling to be seen.


I shall not see by beloved Bespin, so I shall bid you goodbye in her stead. She cannot fall without you, so take care of her.


Resigned, but dutiful and determined to carry out his orders however much he wished them given to another command, Yerlinn departed his quarters for the bridge.

[Sovereign Officer]

Bridge, Imperial Dreadnaught Heavy Cruiser Majesty
Thyferra



“ Captain.”


Commander Yerlinn looked up from his chair in the middle of the single-level ship’s bridge. His executive officer, a strong but small male of Falleen descent stood nearby speaking with the chief engineer; he quietly excused himself to join his captain and hear the yeoman’s report.


“ Yes?”


“ Sir, I have a report on all embarked stores and personnel.”


“ Go ahead, Lieutenant.” Yerlinn swung his swiveling chair to face the fresh-faced officer and crossed his legs over one another. Lieutenant Commander Praax stood behind, one hand resting atop the chair’s backing.


“ One Battalion of the 7th Field Engineers, plus equipment; 31st Fast Regiment, Imperial Army, plus vehicles. All of our cargo space has been monopolized – there’s stuff lining the corridors!” The Lieutenant corrected his posture from incredulity and resumed the report. “ Hangar space is gone; there’s a Devastator in it. Agricultural supplies, terraforming equipment, construction machinery. We have it all, sir.”


“ Anything else?”


“ Yes sir. An Inquisitoriate Colonel arrived and went straight to his quarters. He is reported on the manifest Command gave us. Colonel Torall.”


“ Very well. Dismissed.”


The Lieutenant clicked his heels and departed the bridge via the port of two aft control corridors. Commander Yerlinn pursed his lips. “ Well. That as they say is that. We’ve gone from warship to farming transport.”


Several crewmen snickered and then returned to work, hoping to fade into anonymity amongst the ships operations. Their commander could ill blame them, himself visibly uncomfortable with his assignment and very outspoken on the matter. One thing he had not done in front of his crew was question the sense, rationale, or validity of his orders. Ridiculous as he considered them, he would carry them out.


“ Report on engine start-up.”


The Falleen snapped to attention by the Captain. “ We have fifty percent reactor power. Twenty minutes to full.”


“ Excellent. Continue final loadings. Commence interface link-up with the other ships.”


“ Aye sir,” replied the communications chief from his wall-stationed starboard terminal.


Barely hours until departure. So much to say…

[Sovereign Officer]

Bridge, Imperial Dreadnaught Heavy Cruiser Majesty
Thyferra


“ Release all moorings. Drift us down, mark three-one-zero. When we are clear of the docking bay, push us out slowly until we are away from the station. Maintain minimum speed.”


“ Aye sir,” said the helmsman, seated comfortably in one of two control pits sunk halfway into the bridge floor. Dreadnaught’s used an interactive helm system, allowing the man at the ship’s controls to have complete autonomy over the ship’s engines. On a screen ahead of him was a large holoviewer giving him a panorama from any view he chose, each one received by records mounted around the hull. At either hand he had primary controls for thrusters, maneuvering jets, main engines – every sublight propulsion unit the warship sported. Situated on the right of the ‘ship’s eye’ as the viewer was called sat the hyperdrive motivator, thought all the helmsman could do was activate it. All else was in the hands of the navigator in the other sunken pit just behind the helmsman.


Commander Yerlinn stepped onto his chair’s dais and then sat, looking intently through the tall bow viewports. He watched the station fall away from view as his ship pulled from her grasp. With the ventral-oriented descent of the vessel the entire forward spectrum was occupied by Thyferra’s beauty. Following course readjustment, the Majesty turned for high orbit, the mass of civilian and military traffic buzzing ceaseless about encompassing every angle of sight. Ships large and small passed small orbital stations, system relay posts, defense platforms, orbital weapons batteries, and satellites. Without the dedication of Imperial Ground Control, the orbital plane would be one unsafe conundrum, every vessel vying for the same path, then colliding.


“ Captain. The others are coming out of port now. Forming on our aft quarter.”


“ Excellent.” From what the Captain had been told, his escorts were such in name only. Of the twelve craft, each was larger than the Dreadnaught, some than a Star Destroyer itself, but not a warship. To a point they were freighters, tankers or ore haulers. Six of them bore the Kuat Drive Yards logo, being their premier military transport, the D-15 Supertransport. At twenty-four hundred meters in length and a wide beam, they could haul an Army Corps’ worth of men and their equipment. Impressive at it sounded, they lacked heavy weaponry, making the Dreadnaught the only hope should battle in any be joined.


“ We are receiving clearance from Control. Course approved. They send their luck.”


“ That, ensign, is because they don’t know where we’re going.”


Several more crewmen laughed as the warship and her ‘guests’ vanished into hyperspace.


Captain Yerlinn sat in his chair of command and could not help but snicker. But then neither do you…come to think of it, neither do I, really!

[Telan Desaria]

Imperial Command and Control Complex
Xucphra City, Thyferra


“ Admiral,” said a yeoman as he bowed deeply to the presence of his master, acting commander of the Command Complex.


“ Yes Corporal?” an aged officer asked of his Imperial Security Bureau aide. In the dark expanse of the Admiral’s office, he glared at the other through piercing blue eyes. His hands were folder atop a blank datapad, his features barely illuminated by one lone source of light: a purple-tinted wall-height aquarium behind the desk. There were no windows to let in the sun’s rays, and no lights were on. The Admiral liked it that way when he wanted to be alone to think.


“ Sir, Traffic Control reports that the Majesty’s task force has left the system, destination classified. You had asked to be informed.”


“ I did indeed. Very good, Corporal. You may go.”


Wordlessly, the smaller man bowed gracefully and closed the dual hinged doors through which he stood. Light from the hall shrank, and then disappeared when their ornate surfaces collided together. The Admiral was left alone with his thoughts.


A flick of his finger and the datapad whirred to life, a sector map on its surface. The Admiral looked closely at its title.



- Wild Space –
Loyalties: Unknown


“ Ah, Admiral Desaria. Ruthlessly clever as always. Eyes shall be turned towards the Unknown, so away from them you slip.”


The Admiral shut his eyes, then bade his silent mini-droid on the surface of his desk to relay the message to the Grand Admiral which he had been given.


All goes as planned. The pilgrims have launched.

[Telan Desaria]

En route to Wild Space
Imperial Dreadnaught Heavy Cruiser Majesty


It was the steady humm of the aged Rendilli engines which allowed Commander Yerlinn to drift to sleep several times throughout the course of his watch. At his order, all shifts would be rotated on four-hour schedules at minimum compliment, giving the Majesty’s men all of the rest they would require for whatever their mission was. Even Commander Yerlinn himself who had been handed only destination coordinates remained completely ignorant of their mission parameters, its objective, or any likelihood of success.


Things would remain as such until the third day of their four day hyperspace trek through the Sovereignty, independent territory, Republic-allied regions, and the vast expanses between. At the dawning of that third day, sealed orders brought aboard under lock and key would be opened, revealing to all their assignment.


A slight nudge to the shoulder brought Commander Yerlinn from his dreary unconsciousness; the turning of his head revealed the smiling form of Lieutenant Commander Praax standing over him.


“ You are relieved, sir. I will take the watch.”


Yerlinn nodded his head and stood, taking one look around the sparsely populated bridge. Only one of two helmsman sat in their recessed stations, only four officers at consoles spread across the bridge level and against bulkheads. With a pat to his friend on the back, he skulked aft towards his cabin, where he would enjoy sleeping through his Executive Officer’s shift and that of three other watch commanders.


***


“ Access – Delta. Blue. Tango. Sierra – niner – eight – bravo.”


The garbled mass of extended characters and digits would have been irrelevant and a madman’s banter anywhere but on an Imperial warship. Deep within the confines of the hull spar between the primary pod and engine housing lay the Majesty’s security assay office. With the speaking of the words, a small control panel revealed itself from behind plated grey hall paneling.


Commander Yerlinn placed his right hand on the pad where it was scanned for both epidermic indentations and DNA profile matches. An all clear buzzer sounded and a marker light switched from red to blue.


“ Access – Tango. Bravo. Sierra. Echo – niner – eight – bravo.”


Another panel opened up to the crowded corridor and the ship’s Falleen executive officer placed his hand on it. After a brief scan, another all clear sounded and the light switched from blue to its final colour: green.


A whoosh emanated from ahead of the two officers, who bade their two Inquisitoriate guards to wait in the corridor. Each stepped in turn into an antechamber, where another door greeted them. This could be seen to have several locks on it, of magnetic, traction, and several unrecognizable types. On each side of the wide armored way an officer inserted one of their code cylinders and turned them concurrently. The hiss of pneumatic compressors at work filled the cabin.


The door vanished into the ceiling. Yerlinn and Praax stepped inside. Already waiting for them, sealed from all contact and completely self sufficient, were two more soldiers, both Inquisitoriate. Their tunics had the black cuff stripe affiliating them with the Imperial Guards. At one corner sat a bunk, in another a computer terminal, at the third a ceiling to floor cabinet, and the fourth held two trunks. Following a nod from Yerlinn, the senior of the two, a Senior Gunnery Sergeant, moved to the tall case and entered an extended code.


The cabinet opened to reveal another safe encased in quantum armor. One turn of an already programmed lock opened it. The Guard removed the several flimsiplast sheets from within and handed them to Yerlinn. Praax read over his shoulder.



- Classified – Most Secret –

Operations Order – Phoenix

Acting Commander, Fleet, OverSector Outer


At the orders of Grand Admiral Lord Baron Telan Desaria, Supreme Commander – Imperial Sovereign Armed Forces, you have been promoted in rank to Captain, Brevet Commodore. Approval of your brevet rating will come upon suggestion of the sector commander, yet to arrive.

The DRD Majesty has been allocated to act as temporary flagship to the Fleet of OverSector Outer, established by map on the attached file. The region is thusly claimed by dictate, also attached, by the Empire. The task of its pacification and integration has been given to you.

III Corps, Imperial Army has been allocated to your command for the purposes of subjugating the sector. 1st, 3rd, and 10th Inquisitoriate Brigades have been allocated to you to complete its timely integration, though these troops can be used in different capacities.

Attached to your command are ten Kuati supertankers which - A: hold the necessary supplies to construct, defend, and maintain a presence in this sector; B: have been modified significantly that when their task of transport is complete, they can act in a combat capacity; C: contain administrative staffing and personnel for sector command; D: contain a detachment of the civil populace to aid in population expansion and economic increase.

All discretion has been authorized by Imperial High Command in order for you to complete your mission in a timely and efficient fashion.

I am acting indirectly as the Sector Fleet’s flag officer. An active line office will be assigned at a later date.

We wish you the best of luck, Brevet Commodore.


(Signed)
Admiral Dr. Teridex Laadrit
Imperial General Staff


Praax and his commander exchanged bewildered looks as the Inquisitoriate Guards snapped to attention and saluting. Had both men not been in uniform, doubtless they would have fainted.

[Telan Desaria]

En route to Trebizond
Wild Space


Dreadnaughts, while were one-third a Star Destroyer’s length, were only an eighth of its mass. Nearly every aspect of the heavy cruiser was proportionally smaller than it was on the Imperial Fleet’s mainstay vessel. This included the Captain’s office, directly below the main bridge.


“ Enter,” Yerlinn mumbled as he shuffled through the pile of flims on his desk. Nearly every file he could research regarding the section of untamed territory known as Wild Space lay strewn atop his simple metal desk. Atop the pile, also spread out, sat the several pages of the task force’s operations orders.


There was barely three meters between the forward bulkhead and the Captain’s desk, a space which the Captain’s caller covered in only three brusque strides. A visor cap tucked rigidly under his right arm, the other resting ceremonially on his blaster holster, the massive man seemed to have jumped from an Army recruitment poster. Hidden behind grey eyes raged an intellectual fire, a fact hidden by a barrel chest and rippling muscles. Covering the specimen’s flesh was the blood red of the Inquisitoriate, replete with black trim.


“ Colonel Torall?” Yerlinn asked, never having seen the man come aboard – or at all, for that matter. The Captain had never received personnel files.


“ No sir. Colonel Torall was recalled to serve with the 14th Inquisitoriate Jaeger Regiment. I am Major General Ramsies. I have been appointed by High Command to act as the Acting Commander of Sector Ground Forces.”


The news Colonel Torall’s reassignment did not come as a great surprise, given the Inquisitoriate’s tradition of sending the right officer after the wrong name. Nor was the news of a Major General being given a large command posting. The true jolt which caused the Brevet Commodore’s head to shoot up was that he had been appointed by High Command.


“ It was my understanding no one in this formation had news of our destination before departure.”


“ It was true, sir. I opened my sealed orders.”


Whew! And here I thought I was going insane.


“ Very well. At ease, General. Have a seat. Dispense with the formalities because to working closely together. Let’s not let titles clog our thoughts.”


“ Of course.” The thickly-built officer removed his cap and placed it on one of two chairs, taking a seat on the other. He crossed his legs then removed his leather gloves. He looked at ease indeed, but was still an intimidating brute.


Yerlinn shuffled as many of the flimsiplast sheets into a pile as he could, placing the loose assortment under two datapads he was likewise working on. “ You know of our destination?”


The officer nodded. “ Yes. My dossier was rather lengthy.”


Yerlinn groaned agreement, the information regarding Trebizond lengthy enough to think Intelligence had been active for sometime before the mission was authorized. Grand Admiral Thrawn, as well as Fleet Admiral Archer after him, had campaigned throughout Wild Space, later declaring the region Imperial. Other than taking extensive astronomical surveys and mapping the stars, leaving garrisons and losing pickets to pirates, neither man had been successful in bringing order to its rampant chaos.


“ Your thoughts on how best to approach this?”


“ If avoidable, I would like to keep the option of an invasion closed.”


“ Why so?”


An Inquisitor with brains? Impossible, the Commodore mentally quipped.


The larger officer cracked his neck by giving it a quick snap to the left. “ Of Oria’s settlements, only one city need be taken. However it is a maze of tunnels and alleys and crossways my vehicles would be useless in. My soldiers know their maps, but the short cuts and best sniper spots they don’t. The natives do, and we might as well write off an entire regiment’s worth of men before we complete pacification.”


“ Recommendation?” Yerlinn leaned back in his reclining chair.


“ The city does a small deflector shield, built from composite parts. There’s barely a government, so we can dismiss organized resistance. A Defender flight could make quick work of it.”


“ I only have one flight to spare. The rest are packed behind that Devastator shoved in my hangar.”


“ Aren’t one of those haulers carrying a wing of fighters?” Ramsies gestured through the window-less viewport at the dozen ships in formation with the Dreadnaught as the final ten hours of its trip wound down.


“ Oh yes! We’ve got the best the Fleet can offer! TIE Interceptors! And what’s more, they’re carrying another two squads of old Vanguards for recon! We haven’t deployed those for ten years!”


The Commodore’s last statement was dripping with sarcasm, but the General did not react.


“ Then we must support them. If you can arrange some aerial cover, one of our field howitzer batteries can eliminate the generator. It’s orbitally oriented, so our shells cam destroy it without a problem.”


“ So be it. We come out of hyperspace in just over nine hours. Have your battery ready. We’ll be launching shuttles immediately after reversion.”

[Telan Desaria]

Above Trebizond
Imperial Dreadnaught Heavy Cruiser Majesty


“ Realspace reversion – now!”

The single phrase was the herald of many a battle throughout recorded time. On the occasion of its utterance engagements began when masses of warships collided, one side with the hope of achieving the element of surprise.


Captain Brevet Commodore Yerlinn sat proudly atop his dais of command and looked over the expanse of his bridge in a new light. Newly placed insignia flashed from his chest, his eyes watching all over a renewed sense of pride. The middle-aged officer had taken the first step towards what most commanders only dreamt of: entrance to the Admiralty.


“ Designate battle plane in line with our central axis.”


“ As ordered,” replied the tactical commander, relaying the appropriate data to the flanking behemoths. “ All ships report combat stations manned and ready.”


Commander Praax stood in a port terminal node looking over a pair of officers arrayed around him. “ Majesty is fully under your command, Commodore.”


“ Excellent. Commence threat assessment.”


Again, the tactical officer responded. “ Five in-system contacts, designated Alphas 1 through 5. Light freighters, independent, scrambled IFFs. Raiders, sir.”


“ Are they turning to engage?” Praax asked.


“ Negative. All are continuing on their original exit vectors. In the next five minutes, they’ll all have jumped.”


“ So well. Planetary defenses?”


“ None evident, except the target shield,” replied Major General Ramsies from his starboard-mounted ground control node.


“ All ships: orient into blockade position. Ready all weapons. Any surface contact is to be targeted and destroyed. General, you may deploy your assault force.”


“ Of course. Shuttles are cleared for launch. ETA: six minutes. Fighter screen has formed up for escort.”


“ Perfect…”

[Telan Desaria]

The Battle for Trebizond could barely be considered as such. There was not one shot fired as the artillery was deployed nor one as the TIEs created their umbrella above. The City of Hope's singular shield winked out for lack of power and troops marched into the city.


What passed for a government, in reality no more than the most powerful and feared gangster in the settlement, quickly decided that working for and with the Empire would cost him far less than fighting in both credits and lives. While he believed he could swindle the red and olive tuniced officers into opening their wallets, they had other ideas. When the quasi-defenses had been neutralized, the gangster soon found himself floating in space, a sample of Imperial efficiency.

Trebizond was conquered quietly, beginning the Empire's ascension into power of Wild Space.

[Telan Desaria]

Forward Headquarters, 15th Imperial Grenadier Regiment
- Attached: 2nd Panzergrenadier Division, II Armeekorps


“ You call that a guard post, Lieutenant?”


“ No sir!” replied a platoon commander standing at rigid attention behind his Colonel. Sweat dripped from his brow as the regiment’s long-standing leader surveyed outlying sentry-posts with a raised pair of macrobinoculars.


Eyebrow arched, the Colonel removed the device from his eyes and turned to see his far younger subordinate behind him. Many trained eyes in the tarpouline-covered area continued about their tasks, though their ears deigned not to miss a drop of what promised to be a not-too-common dressing down.


“ You’ve not seen which post I am referring to. How do you know what I am speaking of?”


“ Sir! My first squad is composed of TIE mechanics. The men I was to receive as replacements before we embarked never arrived. My company commander gave me them from the battalion’s reserve pool; they had gotten aboard the wrong transport and assigned themselves to the pool, sir. We’ve force fed them drill training and procedure on the way here, but no good. They’re jockeys, sir – err, Flight Ops personnel.”


Grim-faced, Colonel Tremmin blinked twice, then turned back to the scape of sentry posts along the base of the HQ-hill. “ Very-“


Before the Colonel could finish, a low rumbling quickly became louder and louder as if a Destroyer were coming down atop them. Field sensors blanked, thus showing no signs of aerial activity. A patrol of TIE Avengers swept over the top of the dug-in headquarters, each of the two incant-wing fighters giving a wiggle as it passed. A hundred meters passed the hill, the pair split, each going opposite each other to loop around the hill again. The TIEs could not have been the noise, as their passing was only a high whine of twin ion engines. The thunderous racket grew louder even as the fighters disappeared over the treeline.


“ Holy frell!” shouted a guard by a sand-bag made staircase leading to ground level. The level of his training was excellent, for as he yelled his body slammed into the ground. Dirt covered his olive tunic and quickly crusted over his blast helmet, and as the roar reached its crescendo, every man save the Colonel himself lay sprawled on the earthen floor of the headquarters.


Gusts of wind pushed papers about as if fanned by a titanic god above. From over the camouflage-schemed tarp appeared an ominous black form, easily fifty meters wide and they could not tell how tall. On either side of the lumbering monstrosity the TIE Interceptors screamed by. An entire minute lapsed before the behemoth was in full view. Perhaps two if not three times as long as wide, the Mark XVI-S World Devastator 197 was a terrible sight to behold from below. The light and hiss of her ventral-mounted molecular furnace was enough to strike fear into a prepared soul. Doubtless, the men who had not expected her coming were in dire need of alcohol.


“ What’s that?” the lieutenant asked his Colonel, giving the breast of his tunic and quick slap which released a small cloud of dust.


“ A Mini Devastator. All the primaries went with the Fleet against the Vong, but these were left at Thfyerra to continue the civil expansion. They don’t have any guns, but they produce steel and fuel all the same.”


Many watched in awe as giant tractor beam projectors began ripping great swaths in the planet’s surface, snatching up trees, rocks, and brush. Into the furnace they went where their very components would be reorganized to forge the weapons of war needed by the Empire. From the now-unmanned communications relay centre near the rear of the bunker came an apologetic voice of the divisional relayer: “ Guess we should have told you they were coming.”

[Telan Desaria]

Imperial Dreadnaught Heavy Cruiser Majesty
Bridge


“ Report!” Yerlinn demanded, exiting the port control corridor at a fast and furious gait. In his eyes was mixed the look of a man roused from sleep and one of a man filled with indignance and anger.


Praax stood from the command chair and gave a quick salute. As he did when relieved, the ship’s executive officer stepped to the side to allow the Captain access to his perch. “ Ordnung was attacked by an un-alligned raider. One of her TIE pickets was taken down by a concealed flechette pod as they gave chase.”


“ Condition of the Ordnung?” The Brevet Commodore adjusted his shoulders as he sat, pulling at the creases in his tunic from throwing it on over a nightshirt.


From his starboard station, Ensign Ganngnam turned. “ She reports five percent shield loss. No structural damage reported.”


“ The attacker?”


“ She was a heavily modified YT-1400. About fifty meters long after the refit. A ship that small should not have had that many weapons! Sir, I don’t get it! A dozen reported laser emplacements.”


Yerlinn gritted his teeth and addressed the bridge crew. “ Gentlemen, our first run-in with our most common adversary. Pirates, raiders, criminals of all kinds – they are who we’ll be fighting here. A lesson for us all: things cannot be taken at face value. As of this minute, any ship entering this system or any we occupy from now on is to be fired upon. Ships in this formation are the only vessels we have operating in this region. Anything else is our enemy. Ask questions later. Understood?”


Nods answered the Commodore from the various stations. Lieutenant Tarre did her best to transform the Commodore’s words into an order to be sent to the other ships. After a few moment’s of contemplation she succeeded and the super-tankers’ captains were so informed.

[TieFighterPilot181st]

Tie was in hyperspace on normal patrol when suddenly his hyperdrive course went drastically astray. "Sithspit, Sneaky cut the hyperdrive now and bring us back into normal space." Suddenly with great force the his modified Inteceptor dropped out of hyperspace so suddenly he was thrown forward against the harness with great force. He had no idea where he was but he was pretty sure that he wasnt close to any New Republic bases. "Sneaky where the hell are we and how far is the nearest New Republic base?" The astromech's reply scrolled across his main screen, :Our current location is Wild Space near the planet Trebizond, and the nearest base is Ord Pardron. Our fuel is also running low, we only have enough for about 2 and half more hours in the main fuel tank, and another hour in the reserve. : "Ok Sneaky encode a message and send it out to Ord Pardron and Fleet Headquarters on Coruscant, tell em i need extraction." The droid tootled its assent and got to work. Hmmm Wild Space isnt known for its friendlyness so I'll power up the weapons just in case. Maybe that planet has a place where I can get some fuel. Tie redirected his Interceptor towards the planet that Sneaky said was ahead. What he saw shocked him immensely. An Imperial Dreadnaught was in orbit over the planet with several attendent ships, and his sensors picked up a mini World Devastator. "Not good. Sneaky get a visual and send that out if you can too." Then two flights of Interceptors with the markings of the 116th Imperial Fighter Wing, which was when Tie was in Imperial service the second best fighter outfit after the 181st in which Tie had served. A warning message apeared across his screen.

[Telan Desaria]

Incoming Signal – BETA CARRIER WAVE – 66645382 – GG6

Message Authenticated…Clearence Code 77T

Content….Hourly Query. Send reply in format 919 – A – 006363

…Processing…

Data found. Compiling. 10%...50%....95%...100% Ready for Transmission

Standard Reply Format Uploaded. Sending...Preparing File Compression

…Report on Sensor Activity:::Presence Located – System JJ-11245. Increased Anomalous readings match that of in-system sub-light traffic. Duration…35 standard minutes.

…Message Compressed….Sent

Message Confirmed. Authentication Code – 87U

ECHO CARRIER WAVE – 88856294 – TG7

[Telan Desaria]

Imperial 116th Fighter Wing
Deployed Command and Control Vessel
- Assault Gunboat Lightning


“ Bring us onto heading zero-one-zero mark oh-oh-eight.”


“ Aye sir.”


Major Paul Hausser acknowledged his pilot’s reply and relaxed into the padded back of his control couch. Mindlessly, he brought his rind hand to left shoulder to scratch an itch. There was nothing to scratch, however. The Major has lost his natural left arm while piloting a TIE Defender during the Battle of Dantooine against the Vong. It had taken many called in favors to ensure his survival in the Imperial Fleet, and more so to remain with the Fighter Corps. Only a mandate from Vice Admiral Mondravich, his divisional commander before his assignment with the Fleet to the Extra-Galactic campaign had allowed him to retain command. Even that special dispensation did not allow the officer to remain in the cockpit, a problem he overcame with typical ingenuity.


Hausser looked around the single control cabin of the gunboat and marveled at what he had done to it. Communications equipment had been upgraded, then replaced with a command system enabling him to issue orders to individual fighters, flight leaders, or his squadron commanders. At the center of the room where a chief gunner usually sat was installed the Major’s control station, similar to that of a Destroyer’s captain. The raised seat allowed him to look into space over the head of his pilot, the only other person with whom he shared the vessel. In combat, the Major took tactical control and the pilot acted as he would have with any other man aboard. As a younger officer, the former 17th Assault Wing commander was on a first name basis with all of his men, making such actions all the more easy.


A scanner alarm sounded and the Major was snapped from his reverie. A contact had emerged on the scopes; things could not have looked worse for a first glance. At the very edge of the system, a fighter-sized craft has emerged from hyperspace, itself resembling an Imperial TIE Interceptor III, the first mark to have a hyperdrive. It was, however, broadcasting a New Republic IFF beacon.


“ Major Hausser to Majesty. We have a confirmed contact – “ he read the coordinates from the blinking monitor “ – and I am moving to intercept. Hostility: very. She hails as a Rebel recon ship. Judging from the sloppy re-entry, its very, very lost.”


With that Hausser switched to his wing frequency and issued orders. “ II Squadron, converged on that bogie immediately. Flank him and wound him if you have to. Either way, don’t destroy. I want that pilot brought to me.”


Moments later, the second of six composite squadrons was surrounding the lost Rebel ship, quickly converged on from their system-edge patrol. The rest of the fighters, less a Defender squadron guarding the Dreadnaught, continued to patrol the eight-planet system.


Foolish, brave, or stupid. Let us find out…

[TieFighterPilot181st]

His sensors blared a warning. Tie looked over at the screen which showed twelve red blips heading toward him at high speed. From his judgment his concusson missiles would be of no use in the close up fight that would ensue especially because of the numerical factor since he would not be able to hold a lock while evading enemy fire. "Sneaky send an Urgent Message to Fleet HQ and Ord Pardron, and charge the ion cannon but dont use i unless i say so." Making sure his sheilds were on full he brought up his HUD. The odds definitely were not in his favor today but he thought to himself, when does a Corellian ever have a use for the odds. Pushing his throttle to full knowing that een though he didnt have enough fuel he had to fight because Imperials were not lenient to defectors. He opened fire on the lead interceptor at maximum range and then broke right steeling himself for the desperate struggle.

[Telan Desaria]

" Hausser to Majesty. That rogue's gone defensive. I've just lost one of my boys!"


The Interceptor piloted by Ronnil Torricelii, an older Lieutenant and winner of the Imperial Cross and two of its attendent awards, the Torr Leaves and Sabres, winked out of existence. ion cannon were not meant to destroy vessels, but an Interceptor did not have the energy the blast wishedto drain from it. Instead, the reactor imploded and debris grew where a man and his machine had been.


None of the other pilots now was so arrogant as not to raise his shields.


The Rebel fighter banked and was hotly pursued by her now vengeful attackers. One flight in perfect formation screamed into her aft and began lossing a cannonade of light repeating blaster bolts. Another, minus the squadron commander, cut across space to intercept the enemy on his flank. The third at full strength also maintained its integrity as it positioned itself to charge the Rebel head-on.


Neon bolts sprayed about as the Imperials converged on the lone ship, making full use of the tree-dimensional battle plane: time was never on the Rebel's side.

[TieFighterPilot181st]

The Imperials now split up as to flank him. "Alright Sneaky Im going to launch a concussion missile and when i say so you detonate it." The droid tootled his assent just as another blast rocked his ship wearing his sheilds down some more. He pulled up the missile targeting program ans launched a missile blindly. "Alright Sneaky Now!" The missile detonated, raining debris in every direction throwing his pursuers into some confusion, and then he dived to escape the pursuing fighters. Another Interceptror fired another shot that burned through a weakened section of his sheilds and hit the starboard solar array. However the debris from the missile while not destroying any of the opposing Interceptors had thrown them off for while and damaged one interceptor superficialy. He lined up for a pass on the confused Interceptors and snapped off three shots two that burned through an aft shield and another that cut that Interceptors speed and manuverability by 15 percent. He pulled way tryig to put as much distance between him and his pursuers. However he saw a Corellian Gunship swinging into his way. It was going to be close too close.

[Telan Desaria]

The three flights of TIE Interceptors had now been thinned to ten combat-able craft, one destroyed upon the beginning of the action, and another rendered inoperable and adrift. Rescue pods had already been launched from the Transport Suminara.


Despite their reduced numbers, the Imperial fighters had done what they planned. Range counters had ticked away and accordingly they broke off pursuit. The Rebel ship kept on and began a turn away from the gunship. Its pilot was not successful as an azure bolt on ionized energy shot forth from the protruding barrel of a port-side cannon. The gunner had properly targeted the speeding ship and with the correct lead, scored a direct hit.


Power began to ebb from the craft’s small reactor in torrents. Stability was reduced and then all power emptied. Were it not for the pilot’s sealed suit, he would have died within moments.


The Rebel fighter was pulled into a crowded landing bay of the Dreadnaught Majesty by her escorting gunship. A team of black-uniformed Intelligence officers awaited the Interceptor’s landing. When it did, careful undoing of the vessel’s hatches revealed a wounded but conscious pilot. A quick blow to the face by the butt of a blaster rifle ended that.


When the pilot woke again, he found himself under guard, four stormtroopers each taking up a corner of a small, window-less room, with two officers of the Imperial Inquisitoriate sitting in front of him.

[TieFighterPilot181st]

Tie woke up in a small room with a stormtrooper guard, and two Inquisitoriate agents in front of him. He knew that he was about to undergo interrogation and it would not be a fun process. He hoped an oopurtunity for his escape back to the NR would present itself. He suddenly remembered his astromech and wondered where he was. Then he was jolted awake as a question was directed toward him.

[Telan Desaria]

" Welcome aboard the Majesty. Do you have any idea where you are?"

Before the prisoner had a chance to answer, the two stormtroopers standing behind the prisoner grabbed his arms, pinning him to the chair. A third moved forward from the prisoner's left, quickly stabbing a syringe into his exposed flesh. A gloved hand forced the contents down, and when the needle was withdrawn, the troopers let go.

" Sodium pentathol. An excellent, shall we say, truth persuader, recommended by our friends in Imperial Intelligence. Now, you were about to say?"

[TieFighterPilot181st]

He swooned and felt drowsy. His words became more slurred and unintelligible. "I wasnt... going. to say anything." In the diminished logic section of his brain he knew he had to fight back and he tried very hard.

[Telan Desaria]

The previously silent officer bearing a Naval Commander's insignia spoke.

" Perhaps you cna begin with the regualr then. Name, rank, serial number, and the like."

[TieFighterPilot181st]

"Wing Commander Taichi Yamagi of the New Republic Navy Starfighter Command, serial number 293864, homeworld Corellia."
Resstance was futile especially against the drug.

[Telan Desaria]

" Wing Commander? How did you become separated from your command, pilot?"

[TieFighterPilot181st]

"Things have been quiet lately and i wanted some real practice so when the long range reconassance patrol came up i volunteered for it."

[Telan Desaria]

" Hmm."

The taller of the two Inquisitors, the one wearing an Army Major's insignia, stood and regarded the pilot carefully.

" You received a rather high doseage, so you're definitely not lying. We've learned to counter the Republic's reactive drugs. You appear sincere. But what confuses me is this: is the New Republic scouting this area, or did you get lost and wind up at the wrong place and a very wrong time?"

[Telan Desaria]

Imperial Dreadnaught Heavy Cruiser Majesty
Temporary Office of Major General Ramsies

“ General, 2nd Panzergrenadier Division reports that a perimeter has been established around the City. All transit in and out is now being interdicted. Brigadier General Marcks reports he is ready to send troops in for internal security detail.”


With a sigh, the Inquisitoriate commander of the sector’s ground troops gave a look around the room which had been improperly named his office. Only a small tapestry interrupted the featurelessness of the bulkheads, and that he had put in as a saving factor against complete insanity. A desk sat the room’s center, built of cold and formless steel. The chair bolted to the floor behind it was composed of a like-colored steel, and were it not for the scant padding between the steel and the flesh of its occupant, the latter would rapidly grow sore. There was little space for a guest, let along a chair for one.


Ramsies eyed the comm.-panel on his right longingly. I cannot wait until we complete a command and control complex on the surface. This is intolerable!.


“ Negative. My compliments to the general, but he is to keep his troops in sentry positions and begin preparing earthworks four kilometers from the city’s current edge. I will send down an Inquisitoriate detachment for the city’s…pacification.”


The Imperial Army Captain on the other end of the transmission swallowed hard at the thought of the red tuniced, black-trousered troopers marching through the streets and indoctrinating the city’s populace. He gave an uneasy acknowledgement and promptly signed off.


It is good that our own people fear us so. One can only imagine what external opinion is!

[TieFighterPilot181st]

"My hyperdrive broke down and i somehow ended up here, well wherever here is anyways."

[Telan Desaria]

Imperial Dreadnaught Heavy Cruiser Majesty
Central Holding Area - Cell 4


" So you're friends do not know where you are? And you did not mean to be here. Well then, I see no other option."


The Inquisitoriate officers could see a wave of fear flash across the pilot's face before he conquered his emotions.


The higher of the two officers responded quickly as he guessed what their prisoner was thinking.


" Relax, Commander. While I do not neccessarily agree with it - and don't take that personally - Grand Admiral Desaria's policy in this case would be to wipe your memory, flush your droid, download and erase your computer, and send you on your way."


The Major made a motion and the stormtroopers who had previously held him down came over again. One held the pilot's hands steady while the other punched in a brief code to the grey binders at his fingertips. A few digits passed before the tension eased and the pilot's hands were free.

[TieFighterPilot181st]

"Well actually before I was captured i did send out a distress call so there is a small change of more New Republic intervention. But i thn you or your sense of honor and duty in his matter. Just so you know flushing my droids memory will have no use. He keeps boot discs hidden so he can retrieve anything lost in the memory wipe."

[Telan Desaria]

The Inquisitor's ears perked.


A commlink somewhere on his bet chirped, and he adjourned to a corner of the room. He returned, nodded to his counterpart, and after a nod, both abruptly left. The Rebel Commander was then left alone.


It was not for long, however.


Barely five minutes later, another officer arrived, this one wearing the two-on-two insignia of a Lieutenant. His black uniform and silver wings above the rank plaque identified him as a member of the Imperial Fighter Corps rather than the feared Intelligence Bureau.


" Lieutenant Michel Tollsin, Commander, 2nd Squadron, 116th Fighter Wing. "


The Imperial wore an officer's cap concealing his hair, though a weathered look on his face boded that he was at least middle-aged. Around his neck dangled the Imperial Cross, and under his plaque was pinned the Valorous Service Citation - a small Emblem inside the center of a gold torr-leaf arrangement.


He saluted, and continued. " I suggest you tell them where your droid stores his info. If they can't fnd it, they'll destroy him. You see, this here outfit is supposed to be completely secret. Those Inkies - Inquisitoriate troops - are a little harsh on rules.


" I used to have a 'mech, when I piloted a Defender. I know how attached you can get.


" But anyway, I'm here to take you to the launch bay. It's half a ship-away, so I hope you've stretched your legs. My boys want to meet you."


The Lieutenant motioned into the hallway, hoping the Rebel pilot would join him.

[TieFighterPilot181st]

Ok Ill come with you. My doid keeps most of the boot discs back at home but here are the ones I have. I know im a prisoner, but you guys have anything to eat around here?

[Telan Desaria]

" We certainly do."

The pair had barely gone a hundred meters - one sixth the length of the Dreadnaught - when Lieutenant Tollsin nearly pushed the Rebel Commander into a darkened room. The lights went on revealing a wardroom were nine other men were seated around a circular table. Three seats remained empty.

All stood as the pair entered. Tollsin rounded the table and took a seat in the middle of the vacant three.

" Commander Yamagi, it is rare for you to be standing among us, and we realize you will not remember us. But you will remember what we say here.

" The 116th Fighter Wing was formed out of those who could no longer serve with front line formations. Many of us are toting prosthetic limbs, disqualifying us from active duty. We volunteered to serve on The Fringe, as it was all that we could do. War is all we have known. It is fitting that we die accordingly.

" Today, you killed two of us, Chief Warrant Officer M'kae and Ensign Anatoly Demetrovich. These men bare no mailce to you, and to show you that neither do we, you have been invited here."

Another speaker than the Lieutenant took over. His hair also was concealed by a cap, but was suprisingly young. His eyes were totally white, however, both cybernetic implants. It was obvious he would not be allowed in the line.

" We are not the monsters you think us. we do our duty as you do yours. Because we are enemies on the field does not mean we should be enemies off. Join us here, where we are all equals - not Imperials and Reb, er, Republic, but pilots. Let us dine as soldiers should."

The squadron sat and unconvered their dinners.

Yamagi was entreated to join them.

[TieFighterPilot181st]

"It is my pleasure to able to dine with such skillfull pilots as yourselves. On a personal level i sincerely regret that i have killed two of you pilots. I think that this will be one of the most memorable dining experiences of my life." Tie uncovered the meal before him. It looked delicious especially to someone who had been in a cockpit for a long period of time and the through an interrogation. he respectfully waited for the others to start eating before him.

[Telan Desaria]

Imperial Dreadnaught Heavy Cruiser Majesty
Bridge


“ Commodore, De la Gondaida reports that the Inquisitoriate company has departed for the surface. Commander Allex is requesting permission to land his ship and begin off-loading the engineers.”


Yerlinn stood ahead of his command chair, hands clasped, and looked up at the viewports which ringed the ceiling of the bridge. “ Permission granted. Lieutenant, inform the TIEs below that Allex is coming down and to increase aerial patrols. When that ship gets dirt-side, order them to commence Phase II.”


Praax arched his eyebrows. “ Phase II?”


“ Yes, Commander.”


“ What is that?”


Yerlinn laughed. “ I have absolutely no idea. My orders just said to tell the engineers!”

# #

The others waited and only began when the Lieutenant had taken the first bite. After that, it was nothing less than a free for all as nearly a dozen men, whose age ranged from the very young to the aged, ate their fill. Dishes that would have been considered a delicacy on other vessels were common to the Imperial Navy - the wealth of Thyferra ensured the men who served received only the best.

" Tell us," said 2nd Lieutenant Errit," does your unit havea proud history?"

[TieFighterPilot181st]

"Which one? I've only received command of my new squdron, so i havent really been briefed in on its history yet. The unit i was in, when i was in the Imperial Navy was the 181st which Im sure you've heard of. Tell me, what happened to the 181st, because I had many friends there who I bear no ill will."

[Lion El' Jonson]

At Outer Rim Sector Command, on Coruscant
In The War Room

Admiral Lion El' Jonson, Commander in Chief of Outer Rim Naval Operations, stood at the observation balcony of the War Room. Hundreds of displays illuminated the otherwise dark space. A master tactical display dominated an entire wall, showing in miniscule detail the space around Coruscant. A large screen of capital ships covered every approach into the system. Based at one of the immense space docks in orbit lay Lion's flagship, the gigantic MC-150 cruiser Avatar. Hundreds of weapons emplacements and sensors dotted her ovoid surface.

"Admiral El' Jonson, sir?" came a gravely voice. Lion turned to face it, all 6'4" of him.

"Major Ly'nar. What can I do for you?" he asked, smiling at the Mon Calamari Major. The Mon Cal didn't smile back.

"Sir, we just got a report from the Black Knights B-Wing Squadron aboard the cruiser Badanov." Lion's smile turned into a frown.

"That's Commander Yamagi's squadron. What has he done this time? Destroyed a minefield? Straffed a civilian freighter?" The Major shook his salmon colored head.

"None of those, sir. Which is what is unusual. According to Colonel Draker Flense, the Knight's Intelligence Officer, Commander Yamagi hasn't checked in for the past 24 hours. His squadron members don't know much, just that he went out on a long range reconaissance mission. We lost contact with him at 0430."

Lion really frowned now. It was completely unlike Tai to even be awake at 4:30 in the morning, ship's time or not.

"Was this mission authorized, Major?" Lion demanded.

"That's the other unusual thing, sir. According to ship's records, it says that you authorized this mission. Through your rank cylinders."

Lion swore softly. He knew exactly what Tai had done. The sneaky ditz had forged his command codes a month ago when he had given the Commander his cylinders for a refueling authorization.

"Major Ly'nar, follow me." he said as he marched down the stairs to the ground floor of the War Room. "General Rieekan?" Lion asked. The venerable General approached, wrinkles lining his face from years of hard war. The man's hair had grown to a tuft of gray, but if energy was anything to go by, Rieekan was more fit to battle than ever.

"Yes, Admiral? he asked.

"Sent a coded burst to the 4th fleet. I need an MC-90 and 3 Nebulon-B's warmed up...a few Gunships, too. Designate them Taskforce Omega, get them to rally point Alpha-Sigma-Eltanis. I might need them eventually. Also, send a message to the MC-90 Badanov. Authorize their deployment of SAR craft."

The man acknowledged and began barking orders through his microphone headset. Lion took a seat in one of the command chairs and closed his eyes, trying to figure out what the hell was happening.

[Telan Desaria]

Imperial Dreadnaught Heavy Cruiser Majesty
Bridge


" Commodore. We have a ship coming out of hyperspace."


" Designated postion?"


" Yes sir. She's tagged as the Zephyr, one of our reinforcements."


" Very well."


Commodore Yerlinn yawned, covering his mouth with a gloved fist. The unexpected appearance of the New Republic reconnaissance craft had occupied little time generally speaking; the meetings which had followed it reviewing system security and defense patrol routes proved to drone on through the night.


A panel on the starboard bulkhead morphed from the Imperial Crest to a view of the arrived craft via holo-data transporter. Well below the four ships which orbited Trebizond as a small command squadron, a one-hundred meter arrow-shaped Rapier-class Gunship oriented itself towards the planet's northern pole.


Two Tiger-class System Monitors that accompanied the new OverSector Fleet Outer attached to a supertanker's hull split apart as the gunship's commander made a most unorthodox move through the middle of the leading pair. It's captain was obvious new, one of the many cadets to receive assignments from the Academy classes which had been graduated only weeks before the Majesty's departure.


" Commodore, they are sending a coded message. It's an updated operational order, Priority Script and Eyes Only."


" Route it here. In the mean time, send my report via probe. I don't want to risk interception."


An acknowledgement was returned as a Viper automaton was launched from its home under the Dreadnaught's prow.



Imperial High Command
:Office of the General Staff:

To: Admiral Laadrit, Acting Staff Commander, OverSector Outer

All has gone as planned regarding the capture of the planet Trebizond. Its citizens have not offered any resistence, and most have agreed to abide by Imperial Law. Their induction as citizens will be slowed, but the presence of the Inquisitoriate as a temporary police force has halted any and all illicit activity.

I have, as of this transmission, been brought up to anticipated strength: one Dreadnaught, twelve Supertankers, nine gunships, two monitors.

The Corps of Engineers has commenced work on a Command and Control facility. Completion is expected within the month. As yet, no facilities operational. All command functions being executed aboard my flagship.

Expansion orders requested.

(Signed)
Mait Yerlinn
Brevet Commodore
Acting Field Commander, OverSector Fleet Outer

# # #

Imperial Dreadnaught Heavy Cruiser Majesty
Wardroom


" The 181st?"

The Chief Warrant Officer nearly spat out the words as he replaced his glass on the table-top.

" It's been fifty years since Endor! She's been disbanded for decades!"

The Imperial Squadron's commander rolld his eyes and put down a roll he was buttering. " What our un-civilized morale officer is trying to explain is that the 181st has long been decommissioned. After Endor, many warlords not true to the Empire tried to create clone units, Zsinj in particular. After the first Vong War and the Chiss Alliance, the standard of the 181st, which had grown to wing-size, was laid down at Carida. Her fame was her undoing, as many people were trying to copy her."

[TieFighterPilot181st]

"Ohhh. I didnt know. What happened to the remaining pilots? I always thought the 181st would go down fighting, i would have never thought that she woud be decomissioned."

[Telan Desaria]

" Fighting, yes. None of its cadre alive at the time of its decommissioning twenty years ago among us today. To a man they have been awarded the Imperial Cross either while active or posthumously. Every one of them has died in action. To each of them is ascribed a legend, a place of fame in the Fighter Corps. As so with your Rogue Squadron.

" I served them when they were upgraded to the 181st Imperial Fighter Wing as a replacement pilot. I served only a week before being given my own squadron, but it was a marvelous experience."

The Lieutenant ran a hand through his grey hair.

He was going to continue and shower the Republic pilot with the tales they were told as children about their heroic deeds, about how the squadron's history was required reading at the Academy, but a comm-sign interrupted them.

" Lieutenant, I am sorry to interrupt you, but the Launch reports the shuttle is ready."

" As ordered," the Lieutenant replied, and stood. All of the others did as well, and took a glass in hand. Together they drank a toast to gallantry then escorted Commander Yamagi to the launch bay where his X-wing was attached to a shuttle.

[Telan Desaria]

Trebizond – City of Hope
Temporary Headquarters, OverSector Outer


“ Well?”


“ This is where we build!”


The khaki-uniformed officer who had strolled alongside his commander’s hover-car waxed indignant. “ This? It’s an abandoned strip-mine! If not that, then a quarry!”


“ Damn it, Rigel, I didn’t make the order. The Stripers say we do it, so we do it.”


A scorn on his face, Major Rigel Parcher sneered at the officers of the Imperial General Staff, derisively named Stripers for the bright red sash each wore on their breech-seams, without regard for service affiliation.


Lieutenant Colonel Armsand gave a laugh at seeing the twisted look on his I Battalion commander. “ Smile, Rige! This is why we’re engineers! All the more fun the more the challenge!”


Protocol amongst the Imperial Corps of Engineers had been lax since time immemorial, as it had among the cryptanalysts and slicers and scientists likewise employed. All did their tasks because of the thrill they derived from them, and were accordingly allowed a great leeway between rank, title, and action. Thusly, the Colonel took no offense as his subordinate stalked away.


# # #


In the open fields surrounding the City of Hopes, shuttles and small ferries landed and took off like a swarm of insects. Around them, engineers and soldiers and civil workers milled about unloading material onto repulsortrucks and hoversleds. Great diiridium-driven excavators moved over any obstruction which dared remain in their path. Tracked earth movers crushed rock and churned the earth to mush in their wake. Droids of all types and variation moved about, labeling containers and toting supplies.


Roughly three kilometers in length and nearly equal in width, the quarry was an impressive sight to behold. Cliffs made of grey granite showed a deep cross-section of earthen layers. Officers and men crowded about oddities, noting previously-undocumented rock types and formations.


Nearly ten thousand beings had amassed about the quarry: those of the 10th Engineers (regiment), nearly a dozen civil firms, and enough droids to form a brigade. About lay the machinery of their task, and without pause they began.


Great hoses were lain from the top level of the ground down into the pits where water had collected, dirty and disgusting. A tremendous hum rose up as mighty compressors roared to life, draining the quarry of any sign of water.


“…(Buzzzzzt….Crackle……SHHhhhhhhh)…Attention First Team. Level out the bottom. Give me a depth of three hundred meters and smooth her out. Over.”


Throughout the site, the voice of the chief engineer rang over the short-wave comm. system. Those whose task it was to begin the actual work pulled levers and punched displays and had at it. Standing on a personal hover-platform, a lieutenant with his sleeves rolled up worked fiercely on his pad. Droids below him shouted out answers to his questions, each wielding large table-sized devices for leveling. When all four were aligned in a square, red lights flashed from their tips.


A nod from the lieutenant signaled the next step to a civilian above. With a wave of a controller, two black IT droids rolled from their crate-like housing and unfurled their arms, each brisling with well polished barbed blades. Speaking softly to them as a master would a favorite pet, their controller sent them on down the bank of the quarry. Each dove along the rock face as if they were hot-dogging fighters until they reached an imperfection in the wall. Interrupting the perfect line between two of the depth-devices was a protrusion of rock. Their bladed arms began to flail wildly and took positions one atop another. Using their freightening appendages, the pair cut apart the solid out-cropping as if it were a mound of flimsiplast. They continued on unabated until they reached the next interruption, and through it they charged just the same.


“ I’ve got everything downloaded here. Command says the water is all-right for purification, but since they’re all criminals I’m going to play cautious. In place of those pumps and in the in-lines, set up some DX-001 vaporators. We’ll have no water shortage or containment concerns.”


“ Aye sir,” replied a Captain new the regiment as he surveyed the offered datapad. He glanced up at the site where the Colonel wanted the water-shed built: a small plane twenty meters from a nearby stream and a kilometer from the quarry site through a short glade.


“ It’s a bit far, sir.”


“ Yep. I’m guessing the Stripers are a little concerned about sabotage and bio-war. Make sure you triple-pour the ferrorcrete pipe-lining.”


“ Yessir!” The Captain threw up a casual salute and hopped down from the open Chariot vehicle Colonel Armsand was using as a mobile site HQ. Where only a day before had been a useless empty quarry and overgrown fields, the Imperials had made surprising progress and were well underway with their construction. Just over a small hill to the north lay the City of Hope, its ten-story towers barely visible over the rise.


Give me a month, and you won’t be remember what was here!

[TieFighterPilot181st]

"I never was able to see my friends among the 181st after i left. I just wish that i could have seen them once more. I thank you for your hospitality." They went to the launch bay and Tie saw his Interceptor attached to a shuttle. He went over to it and looked it over. Everything seemed just fine. "Everything ok Sneaky?" The droid tootled a string of affirmative beeps and bloops. "Its been an honor to be amongst you." Tie gave a crisp salute and clambered into his fighter.

[Telan Desaria]

Without any adieu, the men of the Imperial squadron came to attention and saluted. The shuttle lifted from the deck and exited the Dreadnaught. Moments later, it vanished into hyperspace.


The Interceptor Commander Yamagi flew was harnessed to the bottom of the Lambda-class shuttle, the pilot himself in a comfortable seat in the passanger cabin.


Without warning, a haze began to grow in the cabin, the droid beeping as it wabbled from strut to strut. Its memory wiped, the unit registered only the images and none of the cynaptic emotions it had once had - and would need to relearn.


The gas continued to fill the cabin until Commander Yamagi found himself unconscious. It was useless to resist, and slowly memory faded from him.


When he awoke four hours later, the Shuttle was adrift near a Republic warship, a picket and rescue vessel fast approaching.


On the seat next to the Commander was a note, hand written on an old piece of flimsiplast.


Remember the gallantry you have seen, in spirit if not in mind. We do not allow the feelings of battle to leave the field. You shall continue to have a friend in the Empire.

(Signed)
The 116th Imperial Fighter Wing

[Telan Desaria]

Imperial Dreadnaught Heavy Cruiser Majesty
Bridge

“ Commander Praax, with me if you please.”


“ Of course.” The Falleen officer grabbed at the trim of his tunic and gave it a quick tug. A blue-skinned hand ran over his shorn scalp and then down the length of his singular strand of hair at the back of his head. As prepared as he could be, he nodded to Senior Lieutenant Arddiri.


“ I have the conn,” Arddiri replied, assuming command in the stead of the Captain and his first officer.


Praax fell in behind Brevet Commodore Yerlinn, who in the days since his promotion and assumption of his first coordinate command had grown more secluded and withdrawn from life. The Commander shook his head as he reminisced, nostalgic for the lively companion he had made of his Captain; the Burden of Command had claimed another victim.


“ My orders.” Yerlinn handed back to the Praax a crystal sheet filled only three-quarters of a page with text, the remainder being a header and the Imperial Crest. There was no blinking icon at the bottom of the blue-tinted page signifying no attachments or extension. For an operational order, such brevity was unusual.


…You are tasked simply with the expansion of Imperial territory in Wild Space. There are no parameters you must follow, and while bound to mission executions passed down from Command, assume complete operational autonomy in the targets you chose and how you deploy your assets.

The harvesting of resources inside new territory and their rapid delivery to Interior-located centers of production will be overseen by the Imperial Minister of Production, Count Yeitit Varr. This collection will not hamper or hinder military action or logistic patterns in use.

A permanent Sector Fleet commander will arrive soon – time undetermined – allowing you to depart for Carida, where Flag courses will better prepare you for a further assumption of duties. Minister-Count Varr will arrive with him.

Until that time you are, as previously designated, Acting Sector Fleet Commander.

Reinforcements will continue to arrive as scheduled.

Gloria Imperium, Commodore.

(Signed)
Admiral Anatoly Laadrit
Naval Liaison, Imperial General Staff


Praax re-read the order and found himself when done rather confused. They were to expand? The Commodore have been given a wide berth in how he chose to act until relieved – along with that went more than enough rope with which he could hang himself.


“ Quite vague, no?” It seemed as if the former Captain could read his XO’s mind.


“ That it is, Sir. Do you have a plan in mind?”


Yerlinn strode just ahead of the Lieutenant Commander and did not look back as he spoke, almost visibly asserting his authority. “ I’ve been reading over this for the past hour since that gunship arrived. There are over a thousand unclaimed systems less than a day’s time from here. According to the charts Command sent along, many of them are settled but none of them can mount any resistance. I can’t leave this world undefended – wouldn’t do to lose the first world to fall, would it?”


His sense of humor has dried up. My friend is gone.


“ No, sir, I suppose not.”


“ Of course not. I’ve reorganized the fleet into something I can more easily work with – four Light Assault squadrons and two transport wings. Working two with one, respectively, each can conquer a world. Rabino and Oirizor are mining colonies in two twin systems. Estimates are they’ve reached a million people together now. I do not expect any great surprises. I’ve dispatched probes to reconnoiter.”


Praax wondered why the Commodore was giving him a synopsis of his actions and thoughts. He was, after all, only the sector fleet flagship’s first officer.


“ I am giving you a field commission as a full Commander, Praax. I remember our time at the Academy together and you beat me every time in our tactical theory debates. That is why I am giving you the 100th Light as a new command. That’s six gunships and a corvette. You’ll take it, along with the 101st and the 500th Transport Wing – four of those floating warehouses – and attack Rabino.”


All was then clear. Yerlinn was now comfortable in his assignment, but would trust only those he knew to help him secure it permanently. They had been friends for many years and had been very lucky to be posted on same Dreadnaught, albeit at different times. The Commodore knew that he could expect to report victory, rather than defeat at the hand of an officer he could barely recognize.


“ When you have all of your things together, depart for your squadron. You may chose whatever ship you wish as a command vessel. Here is a full briefing and unit sketch.”


The pair came to a corridor junction as Yerlinn handed back another ‘crysh’ to his companion then turned and stood face to face with him. The Commodore extended a hand.


“ We’ve been friend for a while, and I wish you the best. The Empire needs you. And so do I.”


The tall humanoid wrapped his talon-like hand around that which jutted toward him. He gave it a firm squeeze before releasing it and backing away a meter. Praax bowed low, eyes closed, then disappeared down the corridor they had exited. Yerlinn remained a moment more, recalling a few fond memories, then disappeared himself towards a meeting with several Civil authorities sent along to plan the building of a real city.

[TieFighterPilot181st]

Tie blacked out for a while and when he woke up he saw a piece of flimsiplast. It read:

Remember the gallantry you have seen, in spirit if not in mind. We do not allow the feelings of battle to leave the field. You shall continue to have a friend in the Empire.

(Signed)
The 116th Imperial Fighter Wing

He pocketed the letter in his flight suit. He couldnt remember exactly who theywere but he could somewhat recall a feeling of camaraderie but he couldnt quite place it. Tie was not able to remember where he was for the past day and when h asked his astromech he had no idea either, but Tie eventually dismissed it. Tie dropped through the boardind tube to his fighter and then his astrmech followed. He powered up his fighter and detached from the shuttle. In the distance he saw the New Republic ships, 2 Corellian Gunships, an a Nebulon-B frigate. As he neared the frigate launched a flight of X-Wings out to intercept him. A transmisson came through his comm system from he X-Wings.
::TIE Interceptor identify yourself or be destroyed. We have you under our guns.::

::I am Wing Commander Taichi Yamagi of the New Republic Starfighter Command. I believe I am the pilot you are looking for.::

::Welcome home Commander, form up with us and we'll take you back to the Harrier ::

::Its great to be back.:: Tie pulled his Interceptor in formation with the X-Wings and within moments he was in the docking bay of the Harrier on his way home.

[Telan Desaria]

City of Hope, Trebizond
Near the Imperial Field Headquarters


Night had settled on the City of Hope and a bright collage of stars shone in the dark sky. Wild Space was packed with stars, each one burning bright and constant. If one concentrated for a long while, squinting and adjusting sight, a faded band of purple and pink could be seen far away, almost as if a distant memory close to forgotten. That was the Galactic Fringe, the border of space many warships had to cross to chase the Yuuzhan Vong – though none knew where, and only a handful how many succeeded.


The inhabitants of a civilized world would have taken the time necessary to gaze up and marvel at the heavens. Trebizond, a world settled by the filth of the galaxy, was far from civilized. Night, instead, was a time not for stargazing, but for crime.


“ Give it up!” ordered a thug, slapping a smaller creature atop the head with the palm of an empty hand. The other held a long and sharp vibroblade.


The furred Talz male understood was ill equipped to reply in Basic. His struggling against the weight of the larger human cleared his point though that he did not wish to surrender any of his possessions.


“ You’re askin’ for it!”


The Talz blinked each of his four eyes and wiggled antennae in quick succession, a sign of resignation and anger. In response, the human moved his blade down and slashed at the creature’s pinned arm. Blood and fluid began dripping toward the poorly-paved street and the litter which lined it.


The furred being stopped resisting and used a free rip off a sack which hung loosely over his shoulder. He thrust it at the human, and once he held it tore it open to expose the contents. Inside were books and data discs. The human rummaged more until he reached the bottom and found two plastic-wrapped canisters.


“ Good choice,” the scruffily shaved human replied, stepping back from the Talz as he unwrapped one and looked through its translucent sides. Muttering something inaudible, the human switched hands, holding both in one hand and the blade in another. “ Got to protect myself, you know.”


He drew the blade back to end the Talz’ life when a single neon blast of blaster energy caught him in the neck. The human spun around and dropped to the ground, blood pooling and the smoke of charred flesh rising into the evening air. Down the street ran a pair of jack-booted Imperial soldiers.


As they came closer, the Talz recognized their uniforms as Inquisitoriate, the kind posters said were the police force of Hope. When they stopped and looked over the slain would-be thief, the Talz began nodding furiously as a gesture of thanks and appreciation.


“ What did he take?” asked one of them, his mouth concealed by a black goatee.


The alien pointed towards the ground at his bag, and kneeled to collect his things. As he did, the other Imperial bent down and picked up the clear container which had opened on impact. After sniff of its contents, his face twisted into one of revulsion.


“ This is raw Spice!” the Imperial exclaimed.


The goateed man stepped over the corpse to the other side of the Talz and sighed when he looked over at the powder. “ Possession of illicit substances is legal if for personal use. Quantities which are in excess of the limit are assumed to be for sale, and if not properly packaged, assumed to be through an unlicensed broker. The amnesty applies to all past crimes, not ones committed after our arrival.”


Shaking his head, the Imperial drew his pistol and fired into the Talz’ chest, point blank. The fur quickly combusted and burnt the skin, which would have been most painful had he not died instantly from the discharge.


“ Damned criminals,” the other soldier stated, throwing the container into a nearby blue trash receptacle the Corps of Engineers had been kind enough to install. “ Can we go back now?”


“ Fine,” the goateed Imperial replied, holstering his pistol and stepping over the two corpses. “ Baby. You can’t even wait a full shift without eating!”


The pair disappeared into the night, confident one of the City Maintenance droids they had deployed would remove the deceased criminals and their property.

[Telan Desaria]

Imperial Military Shipyard Complex
Code Name – Tamylian
Above Thyferra


The blinking illumination from a dozen computer consoles glistened on Merrick Dravison’s forehead as sweat beaded on his face. With the cuff of his sleeve he wiped away the perspiration, but more came. It was hopeless; the sweat would not stop.


Don’t screw up Dravison quietly chided himself as he leaned atop the only vacant terminal in a long yet slender flight control room aboard the Brilliant. He glanced down the row of stations to his left, then right. With him sat ten blue jumpsuit-clad civil engineers and one olive-tuniced representative of the Imperial Navy who remained patiently silent throughout the morning.


“ All tugs ready for aft thruster burst on my mark.”


A controller next to the Project Supervisor watched his quartered monitor. In each sector was a red colored symbol, power readings and energy fluctuations registering instantly above them. One flashed green, then another until all four was shaded.


“ All powered up and ready, Rick.”


Dravison gulped and pushed the rolled sleeves on his arms up for the fiftieth time in the previous hour.


“ Mark.”


Every man in the room, indeed everyone who knew of what was about to transpire and could get to a viewport, looked on with anxiety. At each of four corners to the shipyard’s A Wing sat a small, yellow painted Rendilli yard tug. They were each only fifty meters in size but had massive drive systems and a power plant to match. Straining to build some inertia, their engine cones glowed brighter and brighter and the lattice-work wing began to move away from the center body of the shipyard complex.


“ It’s working!!!”


Dravison slapped his keyboard in astonishment – not the brightest thing he could have done, but fortunately harmless – and watched in awe. The five linked ‘build ways’ moved farther and farther away, leaving the Tamylian shipyard incomplete. There it sat in a majestic orbit around the Sovereign capital with one of its four construction wings missing.


“ Give me count,” Dravison ordered as he gave his monitor a cursory look.


“ Five hundred meters and increasing.”


“ Time to turn?”


Another controller looked up and replied,” At present speed, five minutes.”


The Ministry of Production coordinator nodded and then plopped in his chair to relax. Even as brief an action as that exhausted him when he thought of all that could go wrong. The what ifs crossed his mind at light speed. What if one of the tugs’ engines had misfired? What if a connecting spar had not been properly disconnected? The repercussions of a twenty-four kilometer wide yard complex falling into an atmosphere from a carefully planned orbit would be catastrophic. Debris, the central impact –


Dravison put the thought from his mind and kept watch over the procedure. The worst was now over; only ease remained.

[Lion El' Jonson]

"Sir! Harrier reports that they've located Commander Yamagi. He's undergoing a debriefing and screening right now, but it appears he has no recollection of what happened."

Lion got up from his command chair and nodded.

"Thank you, Major. Where'd they find him?"

"According to our reports, he was adrift in a shuttle near the Menelmacar System."

He sighed and walked over to a computer screen.

"The Menelmacar System? That's far off of his projected course. What is our strength out there?"

The Mon Cal Major glanced down at his datapad and tapped in some rapid commands. After a few moments, the screen changed hue to indicate success.

"According to current info, that system is defended by a small sector fleet, only detachment size. One MC-80, 3 Dreadnoughts, and several Nebulon-B Frigates." the Mon Cal said.

"How's deployment down there?" Lion asked.

"Stretched pretty thin, sir. Captain Ardellan is in command, and his ships are spread out."

"Then we can't pull any of his ships off duty. Get me the frigate Allegiant. Tell it to rendevous in the Menelmacar Sector and pick up Commander Yamagi. He's to be transported to the Ackbar Sector Base on Mon Calamari and immediately handed over to Colonel Tellard and Inquisitor Akima. I need a full scan: Look for Biological Agents, Mind-Altering Serums, and I want him checked for Parasites. He gets the full package."

The Major looked stunned.

"Major, that's an order. I know he's NR personnel, but I'm concerned he might have been given subconscious programming."

The Mon Cal saluted and went off to log the order.

[Telan Desaria]

Deep Space near Ryloth


" Sir, we have reached the third turn."


Captain Forria straightened his tunic and looked forward through the bridge viewports. Ahead the swirling ambient mass of hyperspace surrounded the ship, giving way to the star-filled expanse of space itself. The Guild-class Star Destroyer Immolator, one of three such Federacy built craft purchased by Admiral Desaria, raised its shields and readied for maneuvers.


" Very good. All ships are to begin third turn. Alter course to zero-seven-five Mark -zero-zero-eight. Correct by ship as neccessary. Compute speed for final leg and execute."


" As ordered, sir."


Forria nodded and was pleased. Though his assignment was an inglorious one, the part he was playing in the greater scheme was worthy of a great deal of honor and pride. It was he who been assigned the task of guarding the most important component of the Imperial war machine, escorting it to its far away destination.


One glance aft to the vertical plot chart alligned against the port bulkhead showed the Captain all was well. Eight Scythe-class frigates surrounded a hyperdrive-capabale cucoon holding a shipyard with twenty gunships flanking every point of entrance. Heading up the entire battlegroup was the imposing form of a tower-less Destroyer.


" All ships report ready."


Forria smiled. " Execute."


With that, the ships commecned their linked jump. They would reach Trebizond in a matter of hours.