Taken from Across the Stars: Sovereign Unity


"But who truly decides what is good and what is evil, Logan?

Why is it said that the Empire was evil?


Because of Alderran?


Tell me, how would your pull the roots out of a revolution that was tearing down all that you built up?

Perhaps the act was extreme. But those were extreme times. The rebels never thought about the price the galaxy would pay when they pulled the New Order down.

They never realized the price the galaxy would pay with their lack of convictions. They tried to bring back the annals of the Old Republic under a guise of the New.

But what people do not realize is that the Old Republic was falling before Palpatine ever entered the scene. He was just the architect of what the falling Republic would emerge as.


It is easy to blame the Empire for evil deeds. Propaganda that the Jedi spill to mask their ineffectiveness.

They do not realize that WE ARE AT WAR! We have always been! The Empire has never lost sight of this fact.


The Revolution of Alderran... of Baal Organa... of Mon Mothma is OVER!


We have retaken what is rightfully ours! The usurpers are destroyed!

The New Order will be reestablished in this galaxy and all will be made whole!"


Kaine's eyes narrowed. "Logan, do not let someone else's ideas of right and wrong, of good and evil, hinder you from what needs to be doing.

War is a very nasty business.

That is a fact.



Our power is the justification of the New Order. Our security is the justification for the New Order.

When everyone else has gone to ground, their dreams turning to ash, their dreams of conquest drowned,

know this, Logan.


The Empire will remain. Always."



The Past...
Just prior to the Battle of Corellia


The Empire was preparing for war.

Already, there were reports of unusual activity from the Galactic Coalition. Troop movements, fleet groupings, supply convoys stretching out across known space.

Isard and her team at Imperial Intelligence were on top of the matter. The Coalition would strike soon, and they would strike hard.

"Corellia." Admiral Bhindi Drayson said softly, watching the planet rotate on the holomap.

At this moment, Grand Marshall Kaine would be informing the Regent of the situation. Admirals Chandler and Dessaria would be preparing their fleets in the Corellian System.

"The academy?" Deusvult Godridge asked, holding a datapad and adjusting the deployment of the Ubiqtorate's resources on it.

"Make sure they have complete video and audio feeds. If the aliens attack us here, I want the students to get a lesson in not being an idiot."

She smiled thinly.

"Do you really expect them to attack here?" Deusvult asked, making a note on the datapad and putting it aside.

The Admiral offered a shrug.

"Perhaps. If they're smart, no. There are more important targets than Carida. But these aliens are idiots." she raised her eyebrows, as if to say "who knows?".

"And what about the Outer-Rim Sovereignity?"

"What does Ice Heart have to say on President Griff and his merry band of hicks?" Bhindi asked, bringing up the sections of space controlled by the ORS.

"Griff is not a fan of the Empire-"

"I wonder why." Bhindi said, not without sarcasism. "Stealing two worlds out from under a man will do that for someone."

"And he's a friend of Joren Logan." Deusvult continued.

Bhindi stopped, turning.

"Joren Logan. As in, the New Alliance Logan." It was not a question.

Godridge nodded, and Bhindi swore.

"He worked with Kaine in the taking of Arkania and Esseles." She said. "He was offered a commision in the Imperial Navy."

"Yes. But he was reported missing in action, nearly a month ago."

And that stopped the Admiral cold.

"Missing? Why wasn't I informed?"

Deusvult only shrugged. He didn't have an answer -- not one that would satisfy Drayson.

"Right. Put out an all point bulliten for Joren Logan." She frowned. "We may have a situation on our hands."

It was only the beginning. And they both knew it.



The Past...
Around the time of Wrath

"The clone armies of the Old Republic were exceedingly strong and well-trained." The scientist was saying, "but they suffered from one disadvantadge more than any other."

The seminar was on the subject of cloning, but with the Wrath epidemic running rampant across the better part of the Empire and the galaxy at large, it had come down to same thing everything else these days was.

Biological Warfare.

"With each clone having an identicle genetic makeup, it was an easy matter to produce a virus that would attack that particular gene, and only that.

"The clones could be easily destroyed en mass by a biological weapon, while leaving the rest of the populance perfectly fine."

The scientist ended his speech with a grueling example, and the crowd applauded.

It was, Liutenant Godridge reflected, quite sickening.



Now...
ORS Space

The fleet (if it could indeed be called a fleet) was running silent. Two Shrouds -- cloaks fully engaged and shields raised -- trailed at some distance the single Strike Class Cruiser.

The ship in question was running slow, its cargo holds reading as empty but with damage to its rear drive motors.

According to the ship's Captain, it had been attacked by pirates nearer the Core and its cargo looted. Only the crew of the Shrouds, and the other ships waiting nearby, knew the truth of the matter.

"Anything?" The Captain of the Shroud, UP151, said, watching the ORS fleet in orbit.

"None, yet." The response came quickly. Everyone was anxious.

"Alright. Let's load the missile tubes. I don't want any surprises. Status?"

"Cloaking systems reading at 100%, Captain. Shields steady at 98."

That was good, anyway.

"Everything else?"

The Captain asked.

"Everything else is going according to plan, Captain."

Today, he reflected, would be a grand day for the New Order.

Taken from Across the Stars: Sovereign Unity


"Joren Logan, there are times when a call has rang out in the galaxy for courageous people to fight against the chaos. Sometimes those calls are silenced by fools, sometimes by trajedy.

I know you have lost everything and nothing I can offer you will ever replace what you have lost.

But I sound the call out to you Logan.

The Empire can lose Logan. We live with that fact every single day when we fight the chaos that would rip us asunder. It is a reality and the day we stop believing it, we will fall."


Kaine extended his hand, "Help me restore Order to anarchy. Help me wipe the board clean of fools!

And perhaps, just perhaps, we might leave this life with some measure of meaning.”

Bakura – Sovereignty Headquarters - Six Days Prior to Imperial Incursion

The two Black Hand agents stopped just inside the darkened room. Across the room was a full length window, with the moonlight filtering through the transparisteel. In front of the window, holding a mug in one hand was a figure dressed in a simple black and red tunic.

“Come in gentlemen.” The figure said.

The two agents walked up cautiously, “Mr. President.” One of them said. He handed President Griff a datapad. The other handed him a data card. Griff took both and inserted the card into the pad.

After a moment Griff looked up and glanced out the window thoughtfully. One of the agents thought he heard the President mutter, “So that is where you went…hiding on that little rock still?”

President Griff turned to the two agents, “Bring him to me.”





Sleep was difficult for a man to get most of the time. Sometimes it was having too much to eat, or maybe being sick, but for an old man and retired soldier, it was more difficult to sleep than usual. Joren Logan was a former leader of the New Alliance, former Admiral in the New Republic, Jutraalian, Sovereignty, and Imperial navies. He had survived countless battles, negotiated truces between sworn enemies, faced off with some of the best military commanders in the Galaxy… but he still had trouble sleeping.

“Admiral.”

He looked up as a young woman stepped into the room. She had perfect flowing blonde hair and wondrous figure, but he knew she was merely a droid. It had been provided to him by his bodyguard, a Noghri by the name of Mahk. The synthdroid was designed to take care of him, or so Mahk had said. Joren merely found it annoying.

“Yes Cassidy. I am awake.” He said with a groan, standing up at the foot of his bed.

“Oh, but you shouldn’t stand. Here, lay down. I brought you a cup of tea.” The droid intoned in a human voice.

“I hate tea. I want Corellian or Almanian brandy.” He protested.

Cassidy ignored him, her caretaker programs automatically kicking in, “But you know that alcohol is not good for a man of your age.” She said as he grimaced. He took the cup of tea and downed it dutifully.

“Yes, thank you Cassidy. I will have much better luck at getting to sleep now.” He said, hoping she’d go away. To his delight, she did, closing the door, and returning the room to it’s customary darkness.

“I am so tired of this. I hate just…relaxing.” He said into the air, hoping someone, somewhere could hear him.


Later…


“Oh…hello!” The synthdroid Cassidy said as she opened the front door of Admiral Logan’s home.

The three figures standing on the other side of the door observed her for three seconds until they struck.


*



Logan awoke to a scream. His first thought was Cassidy had fallen or something. But then his old battle instincts kicked in and he realized that something was very wrong. He sat up in his bed and focused on the door way, where he thought he saw a very tall figure standing.

“Who is there?” He asked, groping around for the blaster that he always kept near him. He realized with horror that it was missing, Cassidy had probably found it and removed it.

“Joren Logan.” A deep voice intoned.

“Yes.” Joren responded, finally able to make out a silhouette in the doorway, “Who are you?”

“Black Hand.” The other said.

Logan finally understood. He had kept up with recent events. He knew full well that the Sovereignty and the Empire were at war. He had served the Empire for a short time before decided to give retirement another try. He realized now that Griff must have decided that Logan was a ‘loose end’ that must be tied up.

“You are here to kill me then.” Logan said with certainty, realizing he was about to die.

The other did not answer. Logan felt a hand sliding across his throat from his left as another – vastly oversized for any human – hand grabbed him from the right. The last thing he saw was Cassidy’s smoking durasteel body laying in pieces outside of his room and Mahk’s limp form lying near it…






They say that before you die, your life flashes before you. Then immediately following that, you go down a long white tunnel, and from there, you go to your final resting place. The first thing Joren Logan saw as he awoke as a very bright light.

“What…?” He asked into the glare.

“No. You are not dead yet.” A voice said. It was not the same as the night before.

“Where am I?” Logan asked.

“A Bird of Prey.” The other voice answered.

Joren nodded, understanding, “I assume you are my interrogator, then.” He said, the light finally dimming and he able to see around him. He was in a pristine white room, and the other voice was a man dressed in the atypical red and black Black Hand uniform. His rank was a Captain. He could not be twenty five years old.

The Captain nodded, “Why do you assume that?”

“You obviously want to get information out of me. Probably because of my Imperial ties, and the fact that I am here, with you instead of dead.”

The Captain nodded, “Easily figured. But I must say, your record is impressive, Admiral.”

“It is just Joren, now.”

“Ah.”

“Let’s get on with it.” He said flatly, staring at the Captain who was glancing over a nondescript file – Logan’s file – presumably.

“As you wish. You know of the recent events, no? I mean, you do get some sort of Holonet feed out on that rock?”

“Oh yes. And you know, Onyx is nicer than it looks. In fact, I named a mountain range to the east…”

“Shut up.” The captain said. Logan smiled.

“As you wish.” The former Admiral deadpanned.

“Have you had any contact with any Imperial forces during your stay on Onyx?” The Captain asked.

“Oh yes. Simon Kaine and I are good friends. As a matter of fact he was out there a week or so ago, we ate Kowokian Monkey Lizards along with tea.” Logan said, amused with the young, inexperienced captain.

“Funny. Your file doesn’t do you justice.” The Captain said.

“Oh, please. Could we get this done soon? I have things I have to do.” Logan said.

“Listen to me, old man. You do when I say, how I say, and what I say at all times. Understand?”

Logan merely laughed, “You know. I have lead armies into battle, I have matched wits with some of the finest military minds in history, but here I am, sitting here with Captain Squirt, who has an ego bigger than the Hoth asteroid belt. Why don’t you just shut the hell up and get me the real guy in charge.” Logan said.

The Captain backed out of the room.






"Admiral Logan, welcome to the bridge."

Joren Logan nodded as he stepped on to the bridge of the Bird of Prey. It's layout had changed dramatically, but he had known that an upgrade to the ship was inevitable. The captain of the vessel was Captian Braxton, formerly of the ISD Restoration - the ship that had ferried him to his meeting with Kaine and the Galactus.

"Captain Braxton, been while." Logan responded, looking around. He had been escorted by two armed guards to the bridge at his request. He had demanded that he were allowed to speak with the Captain.

"Please, let us go to the conference room" Braxton said. Logan nodded and followed the other to a small, four person conference table in a small room to the rear of the bridge.

After they were both seated Braxton's smile faded, "I do apologize about the treatment you have recieved. It was not in my power to prevent it."

Logan nodded, "Understandable. It was not that bad."

"Indeed. I suppose you would like to know why you are here..."

"Yes. But I already have a few good ideas."

"I'm sure. The order for your... capture came directly from the President. With this war going on, we cannot afford to have a former Imperial commander on the sidelines."

"I see."

"So, this Bird of Prey, the Tomed was placed under my temporary command and tasked with the job of going to Onyx and bringing you to a safe Sovereignty world."

"Ah. And what world is that?"

"Khomm."

"The cloning world...?"

Braxton shrugged, "Those were my orders..."

Before Logan could respond, the comm chimed, "Captain Braxton, there is a priority message coming in for you. It is a tactical update." Someone said via the comm.

"Understood. I am on my way." He looked up at Logan, "Admiral,... if you would accompany me."

"Of course."

The two both headed back out to the bridge, where Braxton took a seat at the console in front of the command chair. He read the scrolling text quietly, murmuring, "Thats odd..."

Logan's eyebrows both raised, "Something the matter?"

"Yes. A Strike Class Cruiser has been spotted, heading for Khomm. It appears to be heavy damage, and the captain reports it has been the victim of piracy..."

Logan frowned, "Piracy? A Strike Cruiser?"

"Yeah..."

"That is odd." Logan replied.

"I know. The thing is rather heavily armed, it is designed to fight off other ships." Braxton said, trailing off.

"The New Alliance, as well as the New Republic made extensive use of them. They aren't a cargo craft and they are supposed for Capital-to-Capital ship battles." Logan said.

"I know. And as far as I know, there aren't many of them in existance. I beleive the Sovereignty only has two." Braxton said.

"Deny the cruiser access to any ORS institution, and expel them from ORS space." Logan said, realizing something.

Braxton looked up with a confused look, "What? What if they really are damaged as a result of a confrontation with pirates..."

Logan sighed, "What pirate group operates within ORS space?"

"There are none. President Griff introduced laws to crack down on that..."

Logan nodded again, "And who operates anywhere near ORS space?"

"A few groups." Braxton said.

"Any large enough to cause damage to a Strike Cruiser?" Logan continued.

"No..."

"And why would it come this deep inside ORS space? There are more neutral and Imperial worlds closer." Logan said.

"Yeah..."

Braxton seemed indeciseive. He knew that if he refused the Cruiser, he could be written up, but if he allowed the Cruiser, he could have a more serious problem on his hands. Finally, he stood, vacating the command chair.

"Admiral Logan, I would appreciate you taking command of the Tomed." He said. Logan nodded once and looked to the communication officer.

"Get in touch with Border Patrol. Tell them to expel the Strike Cruiser from ORS space." Logan ordered, feeling his old command senses coming back to him.

"Yes sir." The young officer said, getting to work.

"Captain Braxton, what other ships are nearby? And what vessels are allocated to the border patrol?"

"Border Patrol has a few Interdictors, as well as two destroyers... and there is a Bird of Prey Squadron stationed near Khomm itself."

"Sir...Border Patrol acknowledges. They are en-route now." The communications officer said.

"Good. Get me in contact with the rest of the fleet. Put them on alert." Logan replied.

Braxton frowned, "Isn't this a bit much for just a Strike Cruiser?"

"No. There are Imperial forces in-system." Logan said.

"What!?"

"Yes. It is an interesting tactic, but I would not put it past them. Order Khomm Planetary Defense to raise the shield and to prepare defenses."

"Done."


The Strike Cruiser was denied access any further into ORS space. Interdictor Cruisers, stationed within the system powered up their gravity wells and two Bakura-class Destroyers moved to intercept the Strike Cruiser, with twelve Birds moving to back up the Bakuras.

Manifest

2 Bakura - Class Destroyers
4 Interdictor - Class Cruisers
12 Birds of Prey
1 Planetary Defense Shield (Khomm)

The Past...
Krake's Planet


"What do make of this... Black Hand, Director?" The analyst asked, entering another line of text into the computer.

Imperial Intelligence Director Ysanne Isard -- Iceheart, as she was otherwise known -- did not reply immediatly.

Her attention was largely focused on the small, roundish object on the table before her. It was of little consequence, mearly a glass sphere, flat on one side, but (by the look of it) very old indeed.

"The Black Hand..." She pondered the question for a moment, her mis-coloured eyes (one, blue as the skies of Hoth, and the other red as a Sullustian lava pool and burning nearly as brightly) meeting those of the man.

"The Black Hand is over-rated. President Griff-" she smiled thinly, "places far to much trust in them. Far more than is healthy, in fact."

The computer was giving a series of beeping noises, coming in what (to anyone else) would no doubt seem a completely random order.

"A message?" Isard asked, her attention seemingly becoming far sharper as she listened to the beeps. The analyist nodded.

The computer would automatically record the message, and when put through the proper programs would render the message readable.

The beeping changed in tone and strength, sometimes a low throb, sometimes a high-pitched squeal. Its volume increased and decreased almost at random, the meaning hidden in the intrict design of the system.

That they could not hope to fathom its meaning simply be listening seemed not to matter to either of the room's occupants, because they were both silent until, after several moments, the sound ceased alltogether.

"Decode it." Isard said instantly, slipping the glass sphere into her hand and examining it once more. But even as she held to her eye, she was still speaking.

"The Black Hand are unaware of our agents on their worlds. They have no idea that their own informants are merely spying on our own, their entire network of spies being subverted by Imperial Intelligence."

The analyist was busily inputting the proper commands, and the computer soon came back with the information contained within the message.

Both listened to it -- once -- and it was deleted. A copy, encoded of course, was sent to the offices of the Regent and Grand Marshall, and to the Yaga Minor, and that "young upstart" (as Isard referred to her as), Bhindi Drayson.

"Perhaps," the analyist said slowly, as if weighing the implications of his words, "the Black Hand has more influence than you know. Perhaps... the first network is simply a ruse."

And at this, Isard smiled.

"Of course it is." She held out the glass sphere, her eyes narrowing. "Tell me, when you look through this, can you see anything on the other side?"

Tentatively, as if unwilling to handle a thing of such beauty, he took it and looked through it.

"No. I see only mist."

And the Director nodded, taking it back.

"The Black Hand makes efforts to cloud our own Intelligence." She turned her hand nearly thirty degrees sideward, but the sphere (being as heavy as it was) did not move.

"They wreath us in smoke."

She tipped her hand further.

"But they do not understand that Imperial Intelligence..."

With a final movement of her hand, the sphere fell.

"...is far more powerful than they imagine."

It hit the ground, and burst immediatly into a million fragments of glass.



Now...
ORS Space


"...repeat, you are not cleared for further entry into Sovereignity space...! Turn back immediatly or we will be forced to remove you..."

The voice of the Border Patrol office was cold and harsh, leaving no doubt in the mind of the Captain of the Strike Cruiser Marionette that he would relish a confrontation.

"Well, that's that." He said, turning to his crew.

"Helm, turn us about -- prepare for hyperspace."

There was a moment's hesitation - nearly all of them had expected something else, anything else.

"Sir-" the first officer began, "do you really mean to run?"

The Captain shook his head sadly.

"I wish, Lieutenant, that it was otherwise. I really do. But would you have us take on two Cruisers with a damaged Strike Cruiser?"

The officer was at a loss for words, and compromised be simply shaking his head.

"No, sir."

"Very well, then. Plot us a course to hyperspace, head for Imperial space. Perhaps we can find welcome there..."

The first officer nodded.

"Aye, Captain. It'll take a moment to input the course, however."

The Captain gave a curt nod, smiling faintly.

"You had best hurry. Those Cruisers are coming in fast."

He took his seat -- the chair reserved for the Captain of the vessel -- and looked down at the sensor display. The planet -- Khomm, he knew it to be called -- was glittering in the distance. Between here and there, though... two Cruisers, advancing steadily, with a dozen or more smaller vessels trailing some distance behind.

"No..." he whispered, only himself hearing his words.

The Marionette was outfitted, among other things, with a miniature holocom setup. The long-range transmitter had been damaged in the attack, but a jury rigged short range version had been established to allow communications with the planet, and the ORS ships.

He stood again, activating the device and hitting a second button simaltaniously.

A connection was established with the approaching ORS vessels (both of them, since he had not the slightest clue with one was their command ship) and spoke in a clear, deep voice: "Outer-Rim Vessels, this is Captain Mavrick of the tradeship Marionette. Please stand down; our vessel is damaged and we are currently preparing for hyperspace. We would not want you to be damaged if something goes wrong."

There was, as he expected, no response. But it had been done.

"Course laid in, Captain." The First Officer reported. "We're ready."

Captain Mavrick, with a last look out the forward viewport, nodded.

"Helm: lightspeed. Let's not push her, I don't know what kind of abuse she can take."

There was a nod of understanding, the helmsman pushed the hyperspace levers forward.

For a moment, there was nothing. Then the Strike Cruiser shot forward, closing the remaining distance between it and the Cruisers. The starlines began to elongate, but there came a scream from the sensor station.

"Gravity well directly ahead!"

There was no time to react, no time to brace. The damaged ship struck the artificial well (produced by the ORS Interdictors) at a tenth the speed of light. The strain on its already damaged systems was to much -- the vessel popped back into realspace, its readings critical.

Then it exploded, and inconsiderate Border Patrol officers were no longer Captain Mavrick's concern.

"What the hell?" Logan asked as he watched thr damaged Strike Cruiser begin it's pre-hyperspace manuovers.

"Hyperdrive activation detected!" Braxton called out, from his position behind the sensor operator.

"Hail them!" Logan ordered, "They must know that the Interdictors are in position!"

"Unidentified Cruiser, this is the Sovereignty Border Patrol, please discontinue your present actions... gravwell generators are active..." Logan heard as the Border Patrol attempted to warn the crew of the Strike Cruiser.

Logan knew it was too late. The Strike Cruiser shot forward, into hyperspace, and was instantly caught in the gravity wells of the four Interdictors. Logan winced as it was shreded into millions of little pieces.

Braxton watched, with a resigned look, "Admiral Logan..." He started, and Logan knew the Captain was going to relieve him. But Logan ignored him.

"Sensors, perfom a wide-area scan of the system, search for any survivors... and use all methods available to scan for cloaked ships." He said.

Braxton stopped short, "Cloaked ships?"

"Yes. There are cloaked ships out there." Logan replied.

"How do you know?" Braxton asked.

"Call it a hunch." He replied, focusing intently on the sensor sweeps. Braxton remained quiet.

"Sir," A communications tech said as he approached Logan, "Border Patrol and the Birds of Prey are requesting orders."

"Tell them to hold their positions. All ships are to remain at high alert. Imperial forces are suspected in-system, though unconfirmed." Logan told the tech.

"Yes sir. And Planetary Defense?"

"Hold all systems, keep the shield online." Logan said.

"Yes sir."

The Birds of Prey held their ground near Khomm itself, while the Bakura-class Destroyers moved to protect the Interdictors. The Tomed held it's course, back toward Khomm, scanning the system for any detectable ships. Logan knew the scanning was useless as far as Shrouds go, but they still had to try...

The Marionette


Pain...

Immense, unsufferable pain.

With an effort, Captain Mavrick pulled himself up from the floor and looked around what had once been his bridge. The consoles were all smashed, glass from their shattered screens litering the floor.

The scent of burning wires was in the air, and with a start he realized that, at least, they still had air.

The body of the ship's First Officer was laying nearby, face up, his chest rising and falling slowly. Very slowly.

"Thomas?" Mavrick said, and was surprised that the word was somewhat understandable. "Thomas!" The boy opened his eyes slowly, looking up with a slight smile at his Captain.

"Cpt." He said with an effort. "Did they-"

"Yes." Mavrick said. "They did it."

The ship had hit the partially powered gravity well at a tenth the speed of light, making the leap for a sheer instant before being yanked back into realspace.

The stress had proved to much for the damaged ship's hull, and it had warped. All of the generators had been blown out... but the main reactor seemed to be intact.

Intact being releative to the state of the ship, of course.

Mavrick looked back down at the young man who had served with him for all of, perhaps, six months, and swore. His chest had stopped moving, his eyes were closed.

The Captain gripped the edge of the nearest console and pulled himself up, his eyes reaching the enemy Cruisers, and the Interdictors behind them.

The explosion of the Strike Cruiser's generators had destroyed much of the outer structure, taking what weapons she had left with it. The Marionette was little more than a drifting hulk, stricken and useless.

And they were responsible. And now, they had turned tail and fled towards the Interdictors that had caused the devestation.

No matter.

The communications console was in worse shape than any of the others on the bridge, but with a few kicks against its steel case, Mavrick managed to get it active.

Barely. If the reading was accurate, there wasn't enough transmitting power left to get the message out of the system.

But maybe that would be enough.

"All beings," he began, weezing at the task of speaking, "this is the Independent Trade Vessel Marionette. We have been assaulted in the Khomm system by forces of the Outer-Rim Sovereignity."

He paused, coughing.

"We were attacked in the Groy system by pirates and attempted to seek refuge on Khomm. Instead our crew has been slaughtered and our ship crippled.

"ORS forces are retreating... we beg any forces in the area to come to our assistance. Repeating..." He set the message to loop, and collapsed into the chair.

Perhaps, with luck, someone would come.

"They seem to be trying to transmit a message..." Braxton read off of the sensor control panel.

Logan nodded, "Scan their outer hull, as well as the interior. That explosion should have taken out their communications dish, they shouldn't be able to transmit abything." He said.

"Scanning..." The sensor officer reported, "Outer hull, all weapons have been vaporized, and they have no communications dish. Interior... they have a small, emergency transmitter, but it's power reading is too faint. I calculate they could get a message a few thousand kilometers, not even to the middle of the system."

"What is their message?" Logan asked.

"Requesting assistance... I think..." The operator said.

"Jam the communication. Open a channel to the Marionette." Logan said.

"Channel open." The comm officer reported.

"Cruiser Marionette, this is the Bird of Prey Tomed. You have tresspassed in ORS space, and you ignored warnings. Prepare to be boarded. We are sending emergency teams and medical personel. Do not commence hostilities, they are there to help."
Logan said.



The Marionette


The search and medical parties disembarked the Lambada-class shuttle and stepped into the half-destroyed ship. With them were also a dozen security personell. The team made their way to the bridge, where the captain was laying along with several other crew members.

More and more medical personell continued to disembark, carrying all the injured crewmen, including the captain. They were all taken to the Bakura-class Destroyer Freelance. Medical and surgical teams immidiately began to operate on all the people that needed it. The captain, Mavrick, was stablized and put onto a recovery bed. The entire medical ward was guarded by dozens - if not hundreds of security personell.

Logan oversaw the whole thing, as he continued to order the Khomm fleet into more defensive positions, and recalled more reinforcements.


Reinforcements - 5 Majestic - class Heavy Cruisers

Victory Class Star Destroyer Hood
Imperial Border Regions/ORS Space


The waiting was boring.

Captain Mazzer, of the Victory Star Destroyer Hood, knew that already.

The ship, along with its two sisters and a handful of support vessels, had been assigned to the Imperial border in order to prevent an ORS incursion in their sector.

In theory, anyway.

They were running in complete sensor stealth mode, their patrol route taking them close enough to the edge of the Khomm system that they might concievably be spotted by some yet unknown, high powered sensor suite.

Not that there was any indication that the Outer Rim Sovereignity had such a device... but there was no use taking chances.

Captain Mazzer considering briefly checking with the sensor operator for an update, then decided against it. The man had explicit instructions to alert him as soon as anything came up; reminding him again would only lead him to wonder why the Captain was so edgy.

Through the viewports, the blue/green shape of Khomm itself was visible. The planet was protected by an energy shield of (according to sensors) great strength; it had become active several moments ago, and even the passive sensors of the Hood had been able to pick up on the power surge.

But there was no indication of a threat to the planet, and so it was dismissed as a simple generator test, or some such.

"Captain?" A voice came from the lower crew deck, startling Mazzer out of his reprieve. "We have something."

The Captain looked up, his eyes immediatly alert.

"Yes?"

"It's not much... but we've got a contact on the emergency bands. I'll patch it through to you."

Mazzer nodded, pulling his console towards him and activating the sound system. The message was hazy, almost indistinct... but there was definately something there.

"...Inde...dent Tra..e Vessel Mario...ette. We ... been assa...ted in the Khomm s...tem by forces of the Out..... Sover...nity."

"...attacked in the Groy system...pirates ... attempted to seek refuge on... Our crew has been slaughtered and our ship..."

"ORS forces... we beg any ... in the area to come to our assi...ance. Repeating..."

The sound cut out, and the ship's XO (who, evidently, had heard every word) cocked an eyebrow.

"What do we do?" He asked calmly, casting an eye to the planet.

"We do what is demanded of us. We attempt to render aide to the Marionette." He smiled thinly. "Alert Command, give them our plans and a copy of the transmission. We may be out of touch for a time.

"Helm, plot us a direct course to Khomm, all possible speed."

It was done, and within moments the small force had made the jump to hyperspace.



Independent Trade Vessel Marionette
ORS Space


The landing bay in which the ORS shuttle attempted to land was a wreck. The deck plating was torn, nearly completely destroyed, forcing the shuttle to hover and let those inside scramble down the ramp and drop a meter or so the deck below.

All in all, not an entirely sophisticated operation.

By this time, the stress on the Cruiser was becoming critical. The few remaining readouts on the bridge showed signs of imminent reactor overload, among other things.

The computer estimated three minutes, no more, before a Catastrophic Reactor Meltdown.

Captain Mavrick was laying beside his console dying when the first ORS man arrived on scene. He ignored the console, bending over the man instead.

He did not notice the numbers rapidly failing on the display.

One Minute.

55 Seconds.

50 Seconds.

The ORS man looked up to say that Captain Mavrick was dead when he finally noticed the console, and the readouts on it.

30 Seconds.

He swore, dropping his tools and turning to rush back to the shuttle, to escape.

It was to late.

15 Seconds.

He grabbed for his comlink, frantically activating the device.

10 Seconds.

Maybe the shuttle would escape. He had to hope.

5 Seconds.

No! The shuttle pilot wasn't responding. Didn't he realize the danger he was in? The ship -- and everything in it -- were about to be reduced to their molecular level.

4. 3. 2. 1.

The explosion of the Marionette was powerful enough to be detected by the emerging Imperial fleet, half a world away.



Victory Class Star Destroyer Hood
ORS Space


The fleet emerged from hyperspace in time for sensors to pick up the blast from the other side of the world. At once, Captain Mazzer knew they were to late.

Whoever had made that transmission was dead.

"Shields up." He ordered, wondering what their next move would be. "Arm all weapons, load the missile tubes."

Everything, it seemed, was now up in the air.



<blockquote><strong><em>OOC Manifest</em></strong><hr><font size=1>
Victory Class Star Destroyer Hood
Victory Class Star Destroyer Repulse
Victory Class Star Destroyer Far Thunder
Fire Class Light Frigate
Fire Class Light Frigate
Fire Class Light Frigate
Fire Class Light Frigate
Fire Class Light Frigate
Fire Class Light Frigate
Fire Class Light Frigate
Fire Class Light Frigate
Fire Class Light Frigate
Fire Class Light Frigate
Fire Class Light Frigate
Fire Class Light Frigate
6 Sqaudrons TIE Defender

(The Imperial fleet emerged on the opposite side of the planet as the Marionette)<hr></blockquote>

"This is Admiral Joren Logan, I am taking command of the fleet. All ships head and hold sector three-seven. All ships, shields up, load projectile tubes and charge all weapons." He said, turning to Braxton, "Request more reinforcements from Border Patrol." He said, eyeing the fleet.

"The ships were requested earlier are on their way, they expect to revert to realspace in ten seconds." Braxton said, reading the text off his console.

"Good. Have them raise sheilds as soon as they are out of hyperspace, and they are to form up at the enemy's rear and take out the Light Cruisers." He said.

"Yes sir."

"The Bakura-class Destroyers Defender and Intruder are to form up with Silencer Squadron in BT-124 and engage the enemy as soon as possible. Immobilizer Division is also to get close enough to prevent the enemy from jumping out."

"Yes sir....sir! Dauntless Division One has just entered the system."

"They are to proceed with mission orders." Logan said, staring intently at the Battle Analysis Computer.

"Yes sir."

The Sovereignty ships turned back to the new threat and, with all engines at full power, headed to meet the Imperial forces.

Movements -

ORS Fleet turns to engage enemy forces, note they are not in range yet - will be in next post
Dauntless Division 1 Drops out of hyperspace behind Imperial forces but not in weapons range - will be in next post.

Reinforcements - 5 Majestic-class Heavy Cruisers ([Dauntless Division 2]. These ships are en route, not the vessels that just entered the system)


ORS fleet in-system as of this post -

2 Bakura-class Destroyers {Defender, Intruder}
5 Majestic-class Heavy Cruisers {Dauntless Division 1}
1 Bird of Prey Squadron {Silencer Squadron}
4 Interdictor-class Cruisers {Immobilizer Division}

The Hood

The bridge of the Imperial warship was alive with activity. The response of the Sovereignity fleet had been swift - he had to give them credit for that. Already the Destroyers were moving, turning to face the newcomers.

But they were still far out of visual site. Only the fleet's long-range sensors could detect the enemy vessels, at this point.

"Bird of Prey vessels are mantaining relative position," the sensor officer reported. "Most likely, they plan to rendevous with the enemy support."

Captain Mazzer nodded, surveying the situation on his tactical readout.

He was a man of nearly twenty years in the Fleet, an experianced and able commander. But this plan had him worried, and he showed it on his face.

"Status?" He asked again.

"All weapons are primed and ready," the answer came back (as expected, really). "Shields are at 100%."

He nodded, considering. There were a few options available to him. And the decision, too, was his.

"Contact the Crucifiction." He ordered suddenly. "Grid Cooridinants Thirty-Two by Fifty, jump Mark Delta Five."

There was an acknowledgment from the communications officer.

"Captain! Tracking hyperspace reversion, directly aft of the fleet!"

Mazzer swore, looking down at his console. Indeed, five medium sized cruisers, nearly each as large as the Hood had appeared from hyperspace, and were now closing on the small Imperial group.

"Damn lucky chance." He said through clenched teeth, realizing the situation he was now in. If the fleet turned to engage the newcomers, they would be prompty pounded on from the other group. And if they failed to turn, they would be decimated by the newcomers. Doing nothing of anything and trying to take on both groups at once would do him no good, either.

Which left exactly one alternative.

"Helm, plot a course to Grid Cooridant Thirty-Two Mark Fourty-Five. Execute when ready."

There was a long pause as both enemy fleets drew nearer, then the Helm signalled its readiness.

"Execute."

The fleet jumped, leaving both Sovereignity forces floundering as they tried to track the group's progress.

(Reinforcement Manifest:
2 Torpedo Spheres {Crucifiction, Intervention}
2 Victory Star Destroyers

"They are attempting to jump..." Braxton muttered, trying to make sense of his sensor readings.

"Interdictors?" Logan asked.

"The fields are up... wait... there! We got them!"

Logan watched as the Interdictor fields came into range of the Imperial fleet, ripping them out of hyperspace. The Imperial forces did manage to get a little bit aways, however.

"Immobilizer Division is to hold fast. All other forces, back off. Let's put some space between us and the Imperial fleet." Logan said. The two Destroyers, Birds, and Majestics all slowed to a complete stop, and instantly reversed their engines, traveling back the way they came, but at all times keeping an eye on the Imperials, who had just had their forward momentum cut off.

The Sovereignty forces - along with the original Majestic group (Dauntless Division One), all made their way back to a defensive position near Khomm. They grouped up in a line formation.

"Sir?" Braxton asked.

"We wait. The next move is up to him." Logan said, commenting about the Imperial commander.


Movements - ORS Fleet retreats back to Khomm itself, well within the planet's gravity well.

Also note, the second Majestic Group (Dauntless Division Two) is still in hyperspace.