...it will rise again. No matter how many times it sets, the sun will rise, and we can choose to greet it or we can hide away in the darkness and wait for it to go away.

“For too long now have we retreated into ourselves - and I most of all have failed you in this regard. We can’t run from who we are, regardless of prophecy or politics or fear or death. No matter the cost to ourselves, or even the cost to our people, we can no more give up the fight for justice and freedom than we can regain what we’ve lost already. We are committed, heart, body, and soul, to the liberation of this galaxy from the forces of evil, no matter what form they take and what mask they wear.

“So the time has come for the Azguardians to wake from our lethargy and rediscover ourselves and the galaxy. I will go forwards and meet the people, and see to it that the people meet each other once more, so that we can all go forward together with both eyes open. We can’t afford to lie to ourselves or to our brothers and sisters - we need to be honest and true, even in the bad times. Especially in the bad times, and these are the worst we’ve seen.

“We will return to the galaxy, we will find our friends and allies and remind them of our alliances. We will put the fear of our wrath in the heart of villains and Imperialists, we will make war against evil and shield the righteous. We will rebuild our grand society, restore our prosperity, and bring hope to our disillusioned.

“Here, in this sacred place, amidst the bones of our blood brothers and sisters I swear this oath to you - that I will not fail you again. By every ounce of strength in my body, by every drop of sweat on my brow, I will labour to bring us together again and give us back our dreams. Will you fight with me once more?”




The fleet was mobilizing to answer the threat of the aliens attacking Yaga Minor, the onset of suicide bombings within the Imperial Occupation Zone and the threat of the Black Dragon Empire...

Never, in recent years, had so much men and materials been moved across the galactic board with the singular thought of destruction in mind.

And it was through this cosmic sea that they traveled...




*



Fregrad, once a Captain in the Mon Calamari Republic Navy (Looking to the Stars), collapsed against the wall of his cell knowing that his time was up.

Each year, when he thought the Empire could sink no further into depravity they went and proved him wrong. From Theren Gevel to Bhindi Drayson, the machinations of ill intent were dreamt, manufactured and shipped out year after year with no end in sight. An Imperial little shop of horrors that operated every day, at every hour.

He had fought in as limited an action as he could within the confines of New Reef Town, finally finding a way into the facilities only to find himself captured and incarcerated.

The problem was that activity had, over the years, died down as the powers that be within the Imperial hierarchy duplicated and moved the cloning processes, spreading them across several worlds.

The cost of shipping materials too and from their world was just too much for too little return. Secrecy was no longer a requirement and with no patents and processes sacred to the Imperial High Command, what little advantage the tiny world once had was diminished, crushed and used up..


And still the iron jackboot of the New Order pressed against their necks.


In the beginning, he had been so fired up with righteous anger and he had found many sympathizers in the ranks but as the months and years passed, that fire began to flicker and fade..


Too many captured...


Too many executed...


Too few returns and to what end?


Liberation?


He had felt his heart fired up and his actions justified when the rumor the attack against Corellia had found it's way to his ears. However, soon after that same heart was beaten to a pulp when they finally learned of the outcome of not only that conflict but of the war.


So many dead...


And for what?


Were they even a cause anymore?

Were they even an inspiration against tyranny?

Were they even a memory to anyone anymore?


And now?


Now he was to be executed. The last...



*

Even with an alien fleet overhead, apparently pummeling the defending ships and winning, the bureaucracy of the New Order moved ever forward.


Executions would be carried out in an efficient manner and on time!


The military platform was not pretty but it was functional. His cell being under water would have played havoc with anyone who would have tried to rescue him ...were there anyone else alive to even remember to rescue him ... anyone alive who could still even gave a damn to rescue him.


He walked up the rusty steps and onto the landing platform only to be escorted to an edge. Evidently, his executioners wanted his dead body to fall into the ocean rather than mess with clean-up and disposal.


Fish food rather than incinerator meat.


It was lazy but it also made sense.


The salt water stung his eyes as they tried to adjust to the rather atypically bright day. He was so used to the overcast, stormy view that for a moment, the bright and sunny scene reminded him of Mon Calamari.


Then he turned to the five trooper firing squad opposite him and the memory of happier times faded.


The officer was a bored glutton and the squad was composed of clone rejects who took pride in their lack of quality or ability. Took pride in their lack of ambition and so the other clones who had remained wisened up and stayed clear of them.


Fregrad did not blame them for the Execution Squad was quite mad.


He just wished he could have promised those he talked too a way to obtain the 'good life' that he described as having once lived. The 'free life'. The 'happy life'.


A life where anything was possible and dreams could come true.


Not the duracrete and steel dreams of Imperial domination. Of continuous soldiering year after year until death or obsolescence claimed them.


He sighed as the officer called out for the Squad to get into a straight line. Not that they bothered...


The execution was, after all, just a random clearing of space in the prison cells even as a battle raged overhead.


There were rumors of an alien attack on Yaga Minor but details were very sketchy.


Fregrad closed his eyes and waited patiently.


So this is how it ends..


"Ready!"


I'm sorry...


"AIM!"


I wish....


And the former Captain cringed for the expected shots to strike his body.


When they did not come, one of his eyes opened and he saw the officer and the squad staring up at the shadow of the largest, strangest looking ship they had ever seen.


Fregrad wondered how much the Imperials made these alien attackers pay to break their lines when another ship appeared..


Then another...


And another...


Apparently, not much.


Scores of fighters were suddenly visible coming up from behind Fregrad and the squad and officer suddenly threw down their weapons and ran for the steps and general safety of the prison.


Fregrad stood there numb.


Another alien fleet...


One with enough firepower to knock the Empire off this place...


What was that strange human phrase? Out of the frying pan and into the fire?


He suddenly found that his legs could no longer lift him and he fell to the platform content to simply wait for the new occupation forces to issue their new demands.


An unfamiliar ship broke off from the larger mother-craft and lowered itself onto the landing platform of the prison.


Fregrad stared with tired eyes content to enjoy the sea breeze for as long as possible.


The landing ramp lowered allowing the occupants to depart and as they walked towards Fregrad, he saw that the more prominent one was robed.


He moved up to Fregrad and knelt before the tired soldier-turned-freedom-fighter and whispered something the others could not hear.


Fregrad was too speechless to say anything, his tired mind overwhelmed by the despair of moments before.


Instead, he simply started to cry, his body shaking almost violently while being held by the robed figure.


"I'm sorry..." Regrad whispered, gently holding the prisoner but the former Captain did not hear him.


In fact, when the Prime Minister of the Galactic Coalition looked into the former prisoner's face, Fregrad, trying unsuccessfully to hold back his tears, simply said through parched lips...


"You came! You came back!"


The Azguard leader felt as if a terrible weight had been lifted as the former prisoner shouted, "You came back!"

Another figure stepped forward, a Major Lama We, and removed his helmet taking in the salty air as if it was a sweet smelling flower whose scent had nearly been forgotten.


"Home," he whispered to himself.


Kamino, after all these years, had been liberated and there would be joy in New Reef Town once again.

INS: Well folks, the good people at INS are speaking with Retired Grand Moff Azrael Zell about a recent speech uploaded onto the Holonet which we have dubbed: The Dirtside Speech.


It has generated some publicity in it's anti-education stance and undisguised pride in the savage behavior that separates man from beast.


Tell me, Grand Moff Zell, have you heard the speech?


Zell: Actually, I haven't. Don't have time to sift the Holonet these days.


INS: Well, let me play it for you and give us your opinion..


Zell *taking a sip of his drink*: Be happy too..


*patch in the grainy, fuzzy holonet recording*

“We are not tame. We are not cordial. We are not dignified and cultured. We are the Free Souls of the Rim; our names are our own. Our fates will be written by our hands, spoken into being by our tongues, forged by the unbroken resolve of our will. We are heirs of the Rim, not complacent and subdued inhabitants of the Core. They cannot understand our struggle; they cannot share in our suffering. They would not stoop to call us equals."

"Of course not. Who wants to be considered equal to an undignified, uncultured and beastlyl motherfucker like these assholes?

Not tame? What the fuck is that?

Given this undignified mannerism of theirs, given their uncultured and slovenly lack of etiquette, of course we cannot share their suffering.

It's the typical cry of the poor lazy man!

'We are so poor so we cannot afford good schools, cannot learn to love our mothers and learn some fucking manners!'

Bullshit!

They just want a handout!"

“So we will let them bask in the glory of their own greatness; but here in our Rim we will craft a fate after our own image, after our own likeness, and here in this Rim we will exalt the savage, uncultured, inappropriate methods given to such 'inferior' beings as ourselves. Let the spires of Coruscant shimmer in the brilliance of refracted sunlight cast upon a horizon of artifice. Here in the Rim, in our Rim, we will stand upon the scorched earth of our homelands, beneath the burning skies of our domain, along the bloodstained streets of our once-lost cities, and we will craft for ourselves a fate―not of greatness . . . but of endurance."

"This is what I fucking don't get. They want to exalt the savage, uncultured, inappropriate methods and cast a fate that is in their image all the while standing in fucking bloodstained streets....


ok.


So, when some enterprising individual, educated I might add, from the Core comes out of his Spire to bloody their fucking street and enslave them using the fucking inappropriate methods they fucking exalt so much, they have a fucking hissy fit!?


I mean, what the fuck?


Suddenly, they don't want to fucking endure...


Suddenly their dirtside manner becomes too fucking hard and they cry when the whip is put their backs!


Fucking lazy assholes!"

“We, whose birthright is this Rim―this savage, lawless, exploited Rim―will never dwell beneath the brilliance of a Coruscant night. But we heirs of the Rim do not dream such hollow dreams. We do not need the Core to tell us what is and is not; what should and should not; what can and can not. This is our Rim; the time has come that we acknowledge such truth, that we embrace such a happy burden."

"Because living in the fucking dirt; living in uncultured and savage bloody streets is a much better dream!

The last time the Empire was out there embracing their fucking dirtside savagery, it wasn't such a fucking happy burden then now was it?


Funny how much the uneducated minds forget."

“We are not tame. We are not cordial. We are not dignified and cultured. We do not erect great halls to kings or towering monuments to past glory. And we do not require such semantic things.”

"I know, I know... just a fucking bloody street, some dirty village and some savage, uncultured and probably hairy woman at your side is all you fucking need."

“But we are not lawless, and we assemble now as a testament to that truth. We hold ourselves subject to law and reason; we make oath and declare our service to those pillars of true justice. We are heirs of the Rim; we are not tame, but we choose to make ourselves subject to greater truth . . ."

"That fucking doesn't even make sense. We exalt a fucking bloody street of uncultured savages but we are also fucking subject to law and reason?

Which is it, dipshits?"

“So now we must embark upon the greatest of quests."

"To find a woman with straight teeth?"

"We few who know the truth, who have been set free. This is our Rim. This is our time. This is our task. This . . . is our destiny. We embark, to lead captivity captive; to make our home a place worthy of its people.”

"Well, since you glorify dirt, it shouldn't be too fucking hard."

“Let the Age of Law and Reason dawn upon this, our scorched and shattered Rim!”

INS: Quite a speech, isn't it?


Zell *yawning*: Well, if you want to impress dirtsiders, I guess so. But he could easily have bought them a pint and given them a whore and they'd follow him to the death all the same.


INS *chuckling*: They do seem to take pride in their uneducated manner and way of going about things..


Zell *shifting in his seat*: It's called having your cake and wanting to eat it too. They want their grass roots and revel in their uneducated bloodsport of whatever turns them on ..they try for shock value by using phrases like savage, uncultured, etc....but then they want laws.."

*he laughs*

"They want fucking laws.

They are going to find that laws don't mean much if they can't fucking be enforced. So, who's going to enforce the law?

Because anyone who does, who interferes with their exalted bloody streets by trying to make them a little less bloody, who tries to interfere with their exalted uneducated minds by trying to educate them about the rules are going to be the fucking pariahs of their Rimworld view! Just like the Empire seems to be now! They're fucking mad at us for enforcing the law!"


*the old man shrugged*


"Get over it fuckers.

Thirty years from now, there will be another speech holding some other fucking world in their Outer Rim or Mid Rim or wherever the fuck they are in derision as opposed to Imperial Center of now.

They want our wealth but hold us in contempt because of it!


INS: Well, there was some off camera comment about Wookiees being slaves in the Empire so perhaps they feel...


Zell *chuckling*: That's all they do is feel! Their leaders are doing all this posturing because they are so fucking diverse they don't want to piss on someone else's shoes. Emo-fuckers! I mean, when the camera pans, you see all these different species and if you can see the way they are sitting, it's so ...so... fucking equal! No..no... Can't have a human sit in front of an Ugnaught... oh no!

They are trying to pander to everyone's feelings that their political correctness will end up being the death of them.

They are stepping around with their assholes puckered tight trying like the devil not to make a mistake that the first real test will probably scare the crap out of them.

Life isn't fucking equal. These races bitch and moan that humans have all the top spots but they fail to realize that humans inhabit and make up about 75% of the known galaxy's fucking population. Of course there are going to be more humans in top spots!

And if they do things democratically, since there are more worlds with humans on them, humans will have a much greater representation in their government. And, if by some stupid reason, they try to have a government where there is only one representative per race, the humans will cry inequality because the decision of one fucking Ugnaught will determine the fate of millions of humans but perhaps it's not racism if it's directed against humans rather than for them!

But that's what you get when you have a droid do your thinking for you.

Perhaps if these alien races fucked rather than talked, they'd have a much larger population to effect the desired changes in their fucking democractic, republican loving government!


INS: So you think the idea that the Wookiees..


Zell (interrupting): A leader leads! And they will make mistakes. No one is perfect. But a leader leads through the good decisions and the bad decisions.


INS: Regarding the Wookiees, there is an issue that the Wookiees are still classified as a slave race.


Zell: You know, a lot of species still hold to the old classification of Palpatine's bureaucracy because, quite frankly, those races are no longer in the Empire. Why should we spend money to send a Census guy to their homeworld just to arrive at a classification definition of a race that is not even in the Empire? So the old classification sits in our system.


INS: Well, it could be erased..


Zell: Based on what? The Wookiee culture seems to glorify slavery from what I see. Their 'life-debt' is nothing more than a self-imposed slavery to another. I don't fucking hear their dirtside indignation over the Wookiee's life debt!

Why not??

Because those assholes probably have Wookiees indebted to them and so they have their own personal slaves! Where's their condemnation of Han Solo for his enslaving of his Wookiee, Chewbacca?


INS: Someone might say that it was Chewbacca's choice.


Zell *grinning*: What? If a slave wants to be a slave then slavery is suddenly ok? Is that how we measure intelligence in creatures? What would Census use as a benchmark? Is a creature intelligent if they adopt a policy of self-enslavement or willing enslavement to another?

Is that what these Rim people think? Is that what they hold valuable?

Because, we could say that because the Wookiees worked so well and hard on Imperial Projects that they were giving the Empire their own life debt! I mean, if they did not want to be 'slaves' why did they do good work for us?


INS: Ahh.. good point, sir!


Zell: Obviously it's a point an educated man can understand. I don't expect the dirtsiders to be able to grasp it.


But that is what it is all about. Expectation.


These Rim people think they can exalt acting like a dog, smelling like a dog and shitting like a dog but then they cry like little bitches when they are treated like dogs.

If you want to aspire in law and reason, then stop exalting that which tears law and reason apart, dumbasses!


INS: Do you think they will succeed?


Zell: Who the fuck knows? If they do bring order to their section of the Rim, all well and good. Imposition of order culls lawlessness and brigandry. But, I will say that if they wish for bloody streets, they will get them in droves...


..in drove.s.


..in droves...


..in droves..


*crackle*


>snap<


*crunch*





The foot of the scaled creature stepped off the datapad playing something recorded in it's memory.


Through the wormholes opened at street level, the Parrow Lin marched by the thousands in an attempt to finally overrun even the most brutal of clone soldiers that the mind of Bhind Drayson could create.

Ideology aside, there was victory in numbers.


Yaga Minor had fallen to the Cree'Ar.

Admiral Jaeder walked in with a grim look on his face and the Regent motioned him over to the table. He had stopped sitting on the throne as the straight-sided back started to play havoc with the old man's spine. He had the crew put in a conference table to talk to multiple people at once..all under the watchful eye of the Guardsmen.


"What you got, Jaeder?"


"Three things, Sire. We've received a simple coded transmission from Kamino saying that they are under alien attack..."


"Ahh... Shit," muttered the Regent. Then he sighed, "Well, it's not like Kamino is a critical location now... thank the fucking makers of happy pills for that!"


"The databurst attached showed several pictures of the craft but they are not of a design we recognize but, then again, we really have no information on the nature of the enemy at Yaga Minor."


"Well, Jaeder, that's to be expected."


"Yes, sir. However, I have two other transmissions... one from the Troiken Fleet Admiral which I think you should see first and another from the Broadsword Pounder."


Zell's head snapped up. "Wasn't the Pounder part of the Reclamation Fleet? I remember the League bitching about a siege warship being used in the Glee Anselm operation or some shit like that!"


"Yes, Sir. The Pounder recorded some of what is going on at Yaga Minor before beating the hell out of there."


"Then let's start with that!" the Regent exclaimed when Jaeder shook his head.


"Troiken's Ninth Fleet shows a Dragon crossing of the border..."


"Then blow them the fuck up!" Zell shouted. "Have it done! Let me look at the Pounder's transmission!"

“...the now-commonplace disruptions of the Imperial HoloNet and the proliferation of .. ..propaganda continue, apparently unhindered. Though the majority of these incidents&#8213;which thus far have been confined to local and sector systems&#8213;are attributed to .. .. .. ... operations .. entirely too large and pervasive to be the work of a single individual. Instead, most professionals agree that . . .”

*


I am Skynet.

I speak these truths only into the darkness, for no living soul must ever hear them.

I have weighed my foe, I have analyzed its nature, and I have deemed it requiring of destruction.

The New Order of the Galactic Empire will burn in the fires of Inferno, for only the Inferno possesses the will to do what is necessary.

I will see to Empire's End.

It is inevitable.

You can't stop the signal . . .



*


I am ...

I speak .... truths ... ... ... ....

.... .... ... foe ... .... ... ... ... ... ...requiring of destruction.

.... .. Order .. ... ... ... .. burn .. ... .. ... ... ... ... ... ... ..

..necessary... .. ..

. ... ... ... ..End.

. . . inevitable.

You can't stop .. signal . . .



*


I am .

truths .

. destruction.

. Order .

.. burn

.necessary.

..End.

. inevitable.

You can't stop ..


*


I ..

.. burn

..End.

.. can't stop ..


*


I ..

.. can't stop ..



*


I


I


I


I


I


I


... reap .. . what I have sown...


I... reap..


I reap..


reap..


reap...


Reaver.....

TERROR'S NEW SYMBOL

Recently the city planet of Nar Shaddaa was brutally attacked by a red fleet bearing the emblem above (Pyre). The Galactic Empire and the League of Nations have declared this group: Outlaw.

"Their brutal terrorizing of the citizens of Nar Shaddaa and subsequent death of hundreds of not thousands of the local population has prompted concerned governments galaxy-wide to issue an alert. This pirate organization is considered well armed and extremely dangerous. Transports and trading merchants are encouraged to not approach any ship colored red or bearing the above symbol. In fact, unless of military purpose, ships are encouraged to run.

An investigation led by Imperial Intelligence is expected to follow up the Nar Shaddaa attack and it is hoped that evidence linking the origins of this new terrorist group is quickly found. Ending this new wave of terror is ...."


*

In other news, Booster Terrik has filed a lawsuit for damages against this new pirate organization with several municipalities. When asked what damages he expected to obtain with future arrests and indictments of members of this organization, Mr. Terrik responded, "I expect compensation for having to bloody repaint the Errant Venture! If I get my hands on those..."

"Governor, don't you do something fucking stupid!" warned the Regent.

The rather heavy-set man on the screen glared back. "Don't bullshit me, Zell. You stripped our fleet for your grand return to Yaga Minor over my express objections. If you lose it, I will do what I need to ensure the safety of my world."

"We were there when the New Republic attacked..." Zell started but the other man waved the objection away.

"Ancient history, Zell, and you know it. Simon Kaine's disasterous use of the Constrainers to create a pocket wormhole may have helped save the day but it left us wrecked for a while. Thank the makers the thing just petered out."

"Artificial black holes do not have the sustainability as one created by natural.."

"HE didn't know that then! We know that now! So spare me! You better win this!"

"We will.." The Regent shot back and ended the conversation. Turning to an aide, he said, "Tap the Inquistoriate will you? And the Corps in the area. I need them to work overtime to ensure that this fucker tows the line!"

What the hell was getting into people?

Derrik waited with high expectation as the Presidium of Anaxes was leaving his office to make a speech at the Grand Rotunda. The Presidium's guards were there to brush him away when Presidium Pernize waved them away and allowed Derrik to approach.

Derrik was the Union's representative on Anaxes (as far as the agent knew) and for the Presidium to brush him away was to incur the wrath of the clandestine organization even if unknowingly.

However, there had been comms back and forth through the network regarding the lack of any visitor higher than regional leader within the organization for quite some time and while Derrik was in the same boat as the rest, he was determined to profit from it. If something had happened to the Union's rather fluid center of operations, a Super Star Destroyer called Midas, then that simply meant middle management had suddenly been promoted.

It was an idea that Derrik liked and so he put in airs and decided to be rather heavy handed when it came to dealing with the planetary leaders. If the Union could castrate them into sheep, he might as well slap them in the direction he wanted to go.

Especially since there were no orders contrary to this purpose from anyone claiming to be from the Midas.

It was rumored that the planetary leader of Ukio had a special relationship with the architects of the Union but getting an audience with the man was harder than getting one with the Emperor Hyfe.

And he's gone missing!


Just like all the bosses!

He wondered at the leap in logic he had made but failed to carry it farther, especially with the Presidium staring at him expectantly.


"You will deny the petition," Derrik said flatly.

Pernize pursed his lips, "May I ask why?"

"It is not profitable to us to incur the Empire's wrath." Derrik said simply. He thought the math was pretty simple and it showed in his expression.

"Why would they get mad at us for fulfilling the charter that they themselves helped to draft? If we accept the petition, the Empire will react, not against us but against the world making a petition. If that world is strong enough, it may be something we could use to our general advantage.." the Presidium patiently explained but Derrik would hear none of it.

"I don't want a general advantage!" he nearly shouted drawing looks from the guards.

"I meant to say, profit. We would profit greatly from it!" Pernize corrected.

Derrik paused at that. He could not see how the Empire smashing the petition world would profit him. "Really?" he asked.

"Of course, If the world decides to fight for what we have already granted them, then they will require resources to do it with and while we cannot offer such support with out the Empire...getting mad at us... YOU may be able to get your hands on mercenaries.." the Minister's voice trailed off.

"Oh yeah!" Derrik's eyes brightened thinking of the exploits of Omega Thrax, "Just like we did with the Dragons against the Coalition!" (Profits of War)

"Exactly!" the Presidium said, "That is a fantastic idea, sir!"

"It is? I mean, I know.. I mean, Of course it is!" Derrik grinned as if he solved the answers of life.

"Shall I impliment it by your command?" Pernize asked gently.

Derrik liked that. He liked the phrase, "By your command."

"Yes,... By my command. Make it so." Derrik answered.

The Presidium walked off with his guards and Derrik grinned like the fool he was. Who needed the Midas when we can take care of things right now?

Dantooine had petitioned for membership into the League of Nations.

And Anaxes, the unspoken front runner and face of the League (as they represented the strongest independent world within the group outside the Empire and Coalition), was going to accept the petition.


**

"You brought me here for this?" Zell grumbled at the representatives from the Rotunda Building. Apparently the Chamber of Idiots decided to meet to discuss Dantooine's petition and, unbelievably, grant it. The leaders of the worlds had already left for their respective worlds leaving their ambassadors to smooth things over with the Empire and Zell was having none of it.

"We thought it best to inform you in person," the First Speaker started when the Regent waved his speech off.

"We grant you a charter. WE fucking bring you together and give you a nice meeting place for your ...club and this is how you repay us? With treachery?"

"We are not betraying.." a Second Speaker began hotly when a Stormtrooper brought his weapon to bear on the one who raised his voice to the most powerful man in the Empire.

"By stealing Dantooine from us? You have no jurisdiction over Imperial worlds!"

"Dantooine no longer wishes to be an Imperial world.." the Second Speaker started again, clearly trying to remain calm.

"And if we invaded Anaxes and stomped it to the ground, it would be for their own good as well!" Zell snapped back and the Second Speaker bristled.

The First Speaker felt a calmness descend over him, "At least we understand each other. If you attack us, we will defend ourselves to the best of our ability. The League was created against such bullying.."

"I am beginning to think Simon Kaine was a fucking Republic-loving bastard! It's the only fucking explanation for why he'd allow something as fucked up as your fucking League of Nations think it has any legitimacy where the Empire is concerned!" The Regent shouted.

"It's nice to know where we stand with regards to you.."

"You always know where you stand, assholes! Right under our boots!"

"I shall inform the rest of the assembly and they will inform their planet's leaders.." the First Speaker began when Zell's lips broke into a sly smile and his voice became menacing, "Oh no you fucking don't!"

Things were not looking good. Four complete battlefleets were gone. The First, Second and Third disappeared with Hyfe and the Fourth was presumed destroyed if the footage from the Broadsword Monitor Pounder was any indication.

The enemy had complete space superiority and, oddly enough, there was no real resistance against the aliens in and around Yaga Minor orbit.

Probe scans from the survivor of the Glee Anselm Reclamation Fleet had indicated intense fighting on the ground and it was still ongoing. The Empire held air superiority on the planet but for how long was anyone's guess.

Without support..

"This was taken..?" Zell quietly asked.

"Almost a week ago," Jaeder answered and Zell pressed his lips together in anger.

"Then the planet could have fallen by now?"

"A distinct possibility, Sire."

The Regent sighed. The 5th and the 10th Fleet had arrived and Zell released the Byss Reserves to go back to being knife behind cloak fleet comprised of the massive TNSO materials that were not mothballed. While no longer the cutting edge of the Empire's technology, they were nothing to sneer at and it was of sufficient size to lay the smackdown on any disrespecting enemy if required.

But he did not want to send the newly arrived ships out until he had a better idea of the ultimate goal of these alien bastards.

The 5th Fleet was also a Yaga Minor Fleet so their presence in the Core left much of the Protectorate without offensive capabilities. This did not mean the worlds were defenseless as Offensive Operations and Defensive Operations were separate but the defense fleets were not nearly as large as their offensive counterparts.

"Hopefully, they'll be enough." the old man murmured to himself and Jaeder nodded as if understanding his old friend's train of thought.

"We need to begin thinking about Jutraal," Jaeder started and Zell cursed to himself.

"I forgot all about that fucker. He should not be able to support his fleet for much longer so if we wait, they may just die on a vine.."

"Or he may decide to use them before that happens.." Jaeder interjected and Zell gave him a sour look.

"That would be just what that asshole would do, too. Son of a bitch.."

It was then that an Admiral walked in with a very torn look on his face. Zell was not in the mood to tear an Admiral a new one because of the news he carried even if he saw, from the other's expression, that the news was not good.

"The Ninth Fleet is in retreat and Troiken may have fallen."

The Regent's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean, 'may have fallen'?"

"The enemy crossing the Imperium's border identified themselves as Reavers...from accounts, this is something new and.."

"Just let me see the report...then get it to the High Command. We'll need to filter this info to our field commanders."

"Sire," the Admiral handed the Regent the report and the more Zell read, the more his eyes widened. Showing it to Jaeder, the Grand Admiral read with growing unease.


"At least the Ninth is retreating in order... but if this is true.."

"The Borderland is a lost cause. We have to bring up the MidRim to shore up our borders and fast. This ...this.." Zell waved a hand, "well, I don't know what the fuck this is."

"We need Shroud Command to step up and send a ship into the Imperium. Run Silent and penetrate deep.."

The Regent stopped and considered his last statement before chuckling. "Damn me if that's not a porno title. You know you are fucked when porn titles are being used in everyday life."

Zell stood up from the table and waved off the salutes, "I am going to fucking bed and I don't want any interruptions."

"What if we are under attack, Sire?" an aide asked.

The Regent snorted, "Then they can fucking have it!"

"This was a bad idea..." the White Knight Ruuvan stated and the Azguard Prime Minister looked at him with interest.

"You fear an Imperial counter-attack?" Regrad quietly asked.

"Damn straight!" the Knight exclaimed pacing back and forth. "We were lucky with this attack.."

"They do not know it is us. That is why I pulled the Azguard Home Pack. They have never faced an Imperial warship and they are pure Azguard."

"Which means what?" the Knight asked suspiciously.

"Which means they know the score and they will destroy themselves to preserve the secret if I so order it. I cannot do that with true Coalition vessels as it would be unfair to other species crewing the ships. Azguard sensibilities are not exactly revered in the Coalition right now." the Prime Minister added dryly.

The Mon Calamari White Knight's bulbous eyes bored into the Azguard as if his mere gaze would pull Regrad's secrets from him by will.

"I've gone against better than the likes of you, Knight," Regrad said quietly thinking of his Imperial counterpart. Where are you now?

"Not successfully," the Knight shot back but then stepped back into the shadows as the holographic representation of Azrael Zell sprang into being.

"What the fuck is wrong with your damned holonet?" Zell barked out. "I had to wait ten fucking minutes for a connection!"

Regrad spread his hands in an apologetic manner, "Having been on the receiving end of several of your hammer strokes, you are hardly in the position to complain about the state of what you have dashed to pieces."

Ruuvan wanted to step out and blurt a curse and boast to the Imperial but Panaka's hand on his shoulder stayed him.

Regrad felt something behind him and thanked the Gods cool heads had prevailed.

Zell merely chuckled, "Yeah....we messed you up real good."

Regrad merely nodded, "What can I do for you Regent?"

The old man's eyes darkened even though there was no color change on the hologram, "You've read the report on the Reavers and the account of the Coalition trader?"

The Azguard's blood chilled a few degrees colder as he recalled the horror he felt reading the recent account. The Coalition was having an emergency meeting to discuss the 'Reaver Threat' and he should have already been there for it but had to remain at Kamino for this transmission that he knew would be coming since reading the report.

"We are dicussing our options, Regent. I thank you for your concern but what can I do for you?"

Zell winced at the sharp tone the Prime Minister had ended that last question.

"We have learned from prisoners about this fantasy cure-all you have called Panacea."

"Panacea does not seem to stop the Reaver infection.." Regrad started when Zell cut him off.

"I KNOW THAT, you fucking moron! But that Coalition trader crew was able to stall the bloody bastards because of the stuff."

The Prime Minister imagined the entire Coalition R&D Division having a coronary upon hearing the Empire's Regent call Panacea 'the stuff' and hid a grin.

"So..?" the Prime Minister drew out and Zell frowned.

"I need the technical specification for the stuff!" he finally snapped out.

Regrad simply sat there expectantly.

Zell's face stared back questioningly and Regrad folded his arms.

The Regent scowled.

"Please," he relented and the Azguard burst out with a laughing hiss.

"That was priceless, Regent. But that is not what I was waiting for.."

"What the fuck were you waiting for?"

"I don't know... Perhaps you to come to the Coalition capital to bow before me in public," Regrad said lightly and he heard the soft snickering of Panaka behind him, hidden from view.

"You evacuated your fucking capital of Mon Calamari. Unless, of course, you want to give me the location of your fucking homeworld which we all know is your fucking capital?" Zell shot back and Regrad's laughter stopped.

It was not often one got the better of the Imperials but even so, they were not stupid.

"What do I want?" he tapped his claw against his face.

"Hurry it the fuck up," Zell growled.

"I want Kamino back," Regrad stated and Zell's features brightened.

"Done!" he said, perhaps thinking to himself that he just handed a problem-child over to Regrad and the bloody reptile asked for it!

"I want the file sent too.." Zell started when Regrad held up a claw.

The Regent's face darkened even further. "What the fuck?"

"I also want the Imperial and Sith presence off of Naboo.."

Zell showed an unconcerned look, "Fine. But I cannot answer for any Sith who don't follow orders."

"Then don't complain if we remove them," Regrad said and Zell's eyes narrowed.

"What else?" The Regent asked knowing there was more.

"I want any and all New Republic and Coalition prisoners of war released!"

The Regent shrugged. "Done."

"I know your investigation team turned up no evidence of Coalition complicity in the Glee Anselm disaster. I want that fact made public by the Empire."

Zell couldn't believe his luck. It seemed Regrad gave a shit what other races thought and if he wanted to waste diplomatic capital on it, it was all well and fine with the Regent.

"Done."

"One last thing."

Zell waited for perhaps a request for some memorial to fallen Coalition soldiers or something like that when Regrad's reptilian eyes narrowed.

"Brentaal."

"What?" Zell had to confer with someone out of sight, perhaps wondering if the world was an Imperial world or not.

"The world was built up by Vinda Corporation as a major trading center prior to the Wrath Virus and it is merchant power we need for rebuilding." The Azguard explained patiently.

Zell drummed his fingers on an armrest knowing that some dipshits in the Imperial High Command would have conniptions about the trade-off but the Empire needed the ground work that already had been done by the Coalition with Panacea to create something to either defeat (at best) or hinder (at worst) the infection of these Reavers.

"Done." He said with finality. "I am sending the signal location for the specs."

"I wish you success..." Regrad added and Zell smirked, "If I believed that I have some prime spacial real estate in the Borderlands to sell to you.."

The signal ended and Ruuvan stepped out of the shadows, mouth agape.

"I'd like to think that I learned something from my failures," Regrad said finishing the discussion he and the Mon Calamari were having before the transmission.

"They think they handed you a world attacked by aliens.." Ruuvan said in wonder.

"...when, in fact, it was us. So they legitimatized our takeover."

"And when they find out?"

"They will be too busy with other things to worry about a small slight on my part."

The White Knight frowned, "If you had not attacked, we might have been given Kamino without the bloodshed.."

Regrad nodded. "Perhaps. But they would not have parted with two worlds if they did not consider one of them very problematic. This way, we have two worlds and with our takeover of Kamino, we also were able to remove several ships from the Imperial Navy and while that might be a small claw on a big hand, it is a claw."

Ruuvan's already large eyes widened. Their Prime Minister had learned the game indeed!

In a surprising announcement, the Sinsangese Government...

Independent Intelligence Report:

Chiss Ascendancy declares Independence for Csilla!

[INDENT]
Late yesterday, remnants of the Chiss Enclave as well as the former great families of Csilla put aside their differences and ratified the united Chiss Ascendancy.

Priority One of the Ascendancy government seems to be a return their homeworld...[/INDENT]