Six hours after Inferno Fleet’s initial jump into the Sullust System…

Disabled Imperial Frigate, in orbit via Sulon

“Clear!” crackled his comlink.

Well, now that we’ve cleared the weapons locker, things can’t get too bad…Raithal poked his blaster carbine around the next corridor. He had barely done so when a green bolt zipped past his head. The Inferno marine drew back against the bulkhead. Nonetheless, bolts continued to sporadically slam into the wall that served as the end of the corridor he was trying to clear. He toggled his helmet comlink.

“We’ve got resistance up ahead of us,. The guy keeps on firing, I don’t think we can get a clear shot, but his firing pattern seems a bit amateurish…I’m guessing we’re not dealing with an actual trooper…probably a sailor or support crewmember of some sort.”

“Think there are any more of them besides that one?” said the trooper standing hugging the wall next to him.

“No way of knowing, but I’m not taking any chances with my life…that area is so open that it’d be a killing zone for someone who had the accuracy of rock,” said Raithal, “I’m calling in the Husdant…”

He toggled his comlink. “Husdant, this is trooper HUS-1138. We have resistance in corridor eight on the third deck. Any chance you can pull some strings for a friend? Doesn’t seem to be any stormies among them…”

“Hold on Trooper HUS-1138, we’re locking down the blastdoors in the area. Standby to activate your emergency air reserves…”

Raithal glanced behind him. The doors were indeed shutting close. He toggled a button in his helmet with his tongue. Glancing to his right, he could see yet another door locking down. The wonders of CURSE…though against a mostly disabled warship and inside activation point, that’s not saying too much…

“…now.”

The air seemed to swirl around him like a vortex. He heard a yell from somewhere in the corridor. They’re venting the atmosphere, should be a bit of shocker to whoever’s at the other end of the corridor…For two minutes, air swirled out through upward vents. Then as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. A voice from the Husdant called through his helmet.

“We have a hard seal now. Give it two minutes, and tell us how it all goes.”

“Affirmative Husdant.”

For two minutes, the two Inferno marines rechecked their weapons and armor. Raithal glanced at his chrono, and motioned at his partner. He poked out his blaster carbine, but no blasterfire greeted him. He quickly popped his head out from the cover of the bulkhead. No blaster fire greeted him, though he immediately grew suspicious of the crates standing in front of the blast doors up ahead of him. Cautiously sweeping blaster across the area, he motioned for his partner to move forward into the corridor. He did so, and soon the two men strode through the corridor unopposed. They neared the crates, and Raithal clutched his blaster tighter. They passed by the crates to see a quartet of black-clad lying sprawled across the deck. One of them had covered his face with his hands. Another’s face seemed caught up in shock, with dilated pupils and opened mouth. Yet another seemed so peaceful, that Raithal envied him. He glanced at his partner, who almost imperceptibly nodded. Blaster fire from their rifles tore up the sailors and their bodies. Regardless if they had been dead or merely unconscious, they would be dead now. He toggled his comlink again.

“Area secure. Kindly open up the blastdoor in front of us.”

“We have to repressurize the corridor first, it’ll take a couple of minutes.”

“Affrimative Husdant,” acknowledge Riathal, motioning to his partner, “we might as well use these crates to our advantage…”

The two marines got on the other side of the crates, facing the blastdoor. Several minutes passed before the blastdoors opened, but when they did, no opposition greeted them. Raithal sheepishly looked at a dozen other Inferno marines moving around the ship’s bridge. A quartet of them kept watch on newly captured ship’s bridge crew.

“Welcome aboard,” said one of the marine’s, “but you’re a little late…”

Raithal glanced at the man’s transponder code in his HUD, “James, you prick. We moved as fast we could.”

“That’s what they all say,” said the other marine, “do you have the package?”

Raithal strode into the bridge and handed the other marine a small box.

“Thanks,” said James, grasping the box, “Husdant, I have the relay in hand now….”

James strode over to one of the ship’s consoles. Setting the box done, he pulled out a few wires and inserted them into various sockets on both the box and the console. As he did so, another marine quickly taped the box securely to the console. Yet another marine added industrial adhesive to it.

“Husdant, do you have a secure data-link with the controls?” questioned James.

“We do, most of the ships’ fighting equipment remains ionized, but we have sublight and faster-than-light drives online. You’ll be jumping out of there ASAP to the rendezvous point…”



Five hours after Inferno Fleet’s initial jump into the Sullust System…

On Sullust...

“Take cover!”

Lawless dove behind a duracrete traffic barrier. The ground where he stood mere seconds ago erupted in flames. Thank the maker for armor. Red lasers from a freerunner pulsed directly over him, lashing out at the Imperial anti-infantry battery which had just nearly killed him. Lawless glanced at the crater, noting crimson-armored figure laying sprawled across the street. Rogers…good man…why is it always that way? Lawless dismissed the thoughts from his head and peeked out of the side of the barrier at the towering Imperial garrison base. Damn that’s heavily defended. No wonder every Imp retreated there…it’ll take days to take it, at this rate. His comlink loudly beeped twice. And repeated it again. He froze. Our preset evacuation orders, but what the hell for? Alliance troops and forces began to fall back from their assault. Even the golden-skinned Saurtons abandoned their positions, but with wicked grins plastered across their face.

“What the hell is going on?” demanded Lawless, stopping one of the retreating aliens.

The alien grinned, “This ones on the resistance…give the Imperials a coffin that they made.”

Lawless turned back to face the towering base with its fortified duracrete walls; its built-in shield generator; its seemingly endless amount of anti-infantry batteries. The massive construct rose towards the ceiling of the cavern. There’s no way the native resistance can possibly storm that thing…A loud crack reverberated throughout the cavern, and the garrison base seemed to suddenly tilt to one side. Mere seconds later, the entire began to descend to the ground. The alien next him laughed heartily.

“They’re taking a bit of plunge…a five kilometer drop, actually…”

Then it hit him. Command didn’t send us to take the base, just to keep anyone from escaping that death trap. Putting a base in the capitol city was a great idea in theory, having stormtroopers and what not right in hand to quell any riots or to prevent people from seizing other buildings…but since the entire city is in a cavern built on top of yet another cavern and so forth, it has to be very easy to simply take out the ground beneath it with some carefully placed mining charges…and even if the base doesn’t completely break apart from the fall, no human can possibly survive that much of a drop…

YT-1300 Hope of Nal Hutta, Sullust

“…the team that was suppose to take the shield generator in sector eight didn’t report back in...”

“So what happened?” questioned Vlix, “we didn’t just leave them there, did we?”

“No, sent three more transports loaded with marines, who found the entire first team KIA. Apparently some Imp higher had been visiting place with retinue, so they were more stormies there than they should have been. The marines were able to retake the shield generator though. Oh, Hutta Spite is not going to like that…”

The Inferno marine glanced at the cockpit’s viewport, noting a smaller turbolaser cannon turret whose barrel pointed towards the sky. Looks like the fighters missed one…The skipray blastboat accompanying unleashed salvos of missiles at the weapon. The orange blobs smashed into the defense gun’s side, reducing it scrap and charred remains in mere seconds.

“You sure that’s not the one we were suppose to take?” questioned the Inferno marine.

“I’m positive,” said the transport pilot, “it’s not in the right sector. We only have enough troops to take a few of the guns in each of the sectors, and the rest of them were supposed to be destroyed. It’s too bad we’re the last ones out there to take our guns…look at the sensor board, there it is.”

The marine glanced down at the sensor board. Surely enough, there was a FST reading marking a large object coming up ahead of them. Ordinary Vlix wouldn’t have trusted the reading, but on Sullust with its vast cratered plains, any energy reading at all meant some military installation. He glanced up ahead and zoomed in on a distant speck with his helmet’s lenses. Bulbous round shape, looks like a KDY defense gun of some sort, probably right…Mere minutes later, the YT transport rapidly decelerated from its cruising speed of hundreds of kilometers per hour to not even five. Along with another sister ship, the transport landed just outside of the defense platform. The Hutta Spite’s laser cannons almost immediately went active, dispatching the stormtrooper sentries stationed outside of the entrance. As it gunned the Imperial troops down, Vlix led his marines ran down the Hope’s ramp. By the maker it’s dusty down here…He ran past the partially slagged stormtroopers to the blastdoor.

“It’s already locked down,” cursed Vlix, “we weren’t quick enough. Hand me a demolition satchel.”

One of the men did. Vlix pulled out a proton charge from the bag and fixed it to the blast door. He turned a dial, activating its timer. The marine waved his hand towards the Hope, to which the marines all ran back to. Two minutes later, the charge went off, blasting apart not only the door, but also parts of the outside wall just next to the door. The marines surged through the blasted entrance. Vlix rounded a corner of the first corridor and into four surprised men wearing olive uniforms. Without thinking, the man held down the trigger of his carbine, tearing down the weapon’s crew in a torrent of automatic blaster fire. Before the last man had dropped, another Inferno marine ran past him. Vlix followed in his wake. More olive uniformed men seemed to appear at random; more olive uniformed men fell onto the floors permanently, along with a few crimson-armored ones. Several corridors later, Vlix found himself in the control room of the ion cannon. One marine waved him over.

“They set it to self-destruct!”

Vlix plugged in a heavy duty communication’s datapad into one of the other consoles. The men watched the main holo-projector as some unnamed slicer on the Husdant navigated throughout the Imperial operating system. The self-destruct counter suddenly held at three minutes before disappearing completely from view. Some minutes passed before a voice emanated from the datapad.

“I have reset the security protocols sergeant. It should be your ID code and its challenge word. Happy hunting with your new toy.”

Vlix stepped over to one of the consoles and typed in the required information on a command prompt. The weapon’s status report came up, along with a queue for targets. He glanced at it before completely clearing it…there was no point in targeting distant Inferno Fleet starships. Across Sullust, similar Inferno and resistance teams relieved Imperial troopers of their planetary guns and shield generators. Those that didn’t fall under the Alliance’s sway found themselves quickly demolished by Alliance and Inferno starfighters.



Seven and a half hours after Inferno Fleet’s initial jump into the Sullust System…

Efreeti-class Battlecruiser Husdant, in orbit via Sulon

“Do you know that the battle of ILC-903 only lasted eleven minutes?” said Kre’fey, “how is that possible when this took us nearly two and a half hours?”

Sei’lar snorted, “You aren’t fighting against fanatical and overly aggressive Yevetha. Imperials actually have a sense of wisdom and tactics. They don’t just foolishly get themselves beaten to death by superior firepower…”

“One of the few things we share in common,” decided the other bothan, “if nothing else.”

“Sir, we’ve secure the frigate. Shall I give the order?”

Kre’fey’s fur rippled, “By all means. It won’t do us any good here.”

The two bothans strode over to the laminated bridge viewports of the battlecruiser. Kre’fey’s eyes glanced over the wrecks of hundreds of craft, ranging from heavy cruisers to escape pods. Shattered hulls and bodies littered the area, causing the bothan to begin to meditate on the destruction wrought by his, and his choice alone. He had brought these thousands of people into conflict. He had chosen this, somehow. But Sei’lar gripped his arm and pointed at a gray hulk, which jetted away from orbital tragedy. Minutes later, the two aliens watched it disappear in a flash of light as it jumped into hyperspace. The rest of Inferno Fleet began to leave orbit to pick up new positions.

“How many are aboard her?” questioned Sei’lar.

“A full prize crew complement,” said Kre’fey wearily, “maybe a little over a thousand marines and then crewmen and what not.”

Sei’lar frowned, “That’s a lot of men to have onboard when they’re not carrying prisoners.”

Kre’fey briefly flickered a faint smile, “You never know if something will go wrong onboard one of those ships. And as for the prisoners we’ve taken off that wreck, I think they’ll enjoy their new cells across the fleet.”

Sei’lar’s fur rippled. “Across the fleet? You aren’t doing what I think you are, are you?”

“Yes,” decided Kre’fey, “if the Imperials stumble across one of our ships and managed to blow it up, they can kill a bunch of their men too.”

“You’ve leaked it, haven’t you?”

Kre’fey nodded. “We took one of their shuttles, blasted its hyperdrive and weapons systems to smithereens, and let a handful of them on it after letting them know that. We have them a holo-recording showing the prisoners and what not too if their superiors need some sort of verification. They’re halfway out of system now according to our sensors.”

Sei’lar slumped down on the bulkhead, “That’s really something. And SAR ops?”

Kre’fey sat down on the cold metal floor besides his friend, “Goldfire squadron hasn’t found anything new. We’ve rescued every being we could, checked every one of our hulks and debris that we could before blasted it…”

Sei’lar frowned, “You didn’t?”

Kre’fey nodded. “I did. Cerberus cruisers completely disintegrated them with their disruptors. No sense in letting them potentially gain any intel off of them in case the Imperials retake Sullust before we scavenge anything back. Not that there’s much to scavenge off of Torch gunships and starfighters anyways…if one thing is broken on one of those ships, it’s likely that everything else is too.”

“And the Imp ships?”

“Checked them for lifeforms, but we’ve otherwise left them alone. We’ve pulled off more survivors from the ships and their lifepods.”

“Let me guess,” said the spy, “you’re using them as hostages too.”

Kre’fey nodded. “No sense in not using them for that. Though we didn’t have room for them all…”

“So?”

“So I’ve marooned them on Umnub in on old mining base with a subspace transceiver. They’ll picked up eventually if the Imps come back.”

“And if they don’t?”

“We’ll deal with them,” said Kre’fey, “but I doubt the Imps will just sit here and let us keep one of their prized industrial planets…let me show you.”

The aliens picked themselves up and paced over to the holo-projector.

“Now that all of the planetary guns have been neutralized or captured,” stated Kre’fey, “we can control the orbit. See here and here? Those are all of the hyperjump nav entry points to orbit in Sullust. Ships have to come into orbit there, unless they want to hit either the moons’ or the planet’s mass shadow. We have a Torch gunship at each of those five entry points, acting as picket ships to inspect inbound craft, or alert us to an enemy’s presence if our sensors don’t pick it up. Here are the artillery frigates, divied up to form a crescent formation with Aeacus and Husdant lines. This wide area C-type formation puts us at least one unit, if not two, in line-of-sight with the entry points. Being in such position does not put us in immediate turbolaser firing range, unfortunately, but we can move to intercept any ship there within five minutes, assuming that they move to get at us too…yet we are still far out enough in orbit that it will only take us a few minutes to get of the gravity well and make a jump.”

Many hours later…

Efreeti-class Battlecruiser Husdant, in orbit via Sullust

An alarm klaxon went off, Kre’fey stumbled out of his bed. What the hell is going on? He glanced at his wrist chrono. At least I got a good seven hours of sleep…The bothan didn’t bother changing out of his sleeping garments. Instead, he merely tightened the belt around his robe and alien immediately strode out of the corridor. Two Inferno marines feel in besides him as he exited the door.

“What the hell is going on?” demanded the admiral.

“A star destroyer has been sighted on the edge of the system. It attacked one of the Alliance fleet elements. They say it’s a super-class star destroyer sir…”

An Executor-class Star Dreadnaught? The closest one we knew of was suppose to be at Coruscant…but it’s an eight day journey from Coruscant to Sullust under the most optimal of conditions…something is not right here…The trio passed through a phalanx of Inferno marines and strode into the bridge of the battlecruiser. Sei’lar was already brooding over Kre’fey’s command chair. Bandor’s fur rippled.

“I thought you said there wouldn’t be anything too large for us to handle immediately,” stated Bandor half-jokingly.

“You’ve got me,” said the Bothan spy, “the Spynet didn’t know anything about it. As far as I can see, it’s a brand new ship. Never been in a battle before.”

“Probably has a green crew then,” decided Kre’fey, “which is at least something. Nothing I’d really want to tangle with though…”

Kre’fey sat down in his command chair, “Has action stations been declared throughout the fleet?”

“Yes sir, the fleet is fully ready for battle. Some pilots are just into their starfighters-”

“But no-one has launched yet?” questioned Kre’fey.

“No-one besides the CAP.”

“Bring the CAP in,” decided the Bothan, “we’re not staying here. Helm, bring us just out of the gravity wells. Instruct the other elements to roughly keep their own positions, but just get out of the gravity well. Every ship is to be ready to jump out of here in less than a minute’s notice. Withdraw the picket ships from their customs duties. They’re no match for the Imperial fleet by themselves…”

An acknowledgement of the orders reverberated throughout the fleet. Inferno Fleet broke orbit and headed out towards the stars. Kre’fey’s fur rippled as he navigated through the screens on his command console. Can our prize be wrestled from us that easily? He glanced at his screen detailing Sullust. Shields were raised across the planet already, and the relatively few anti-orbital guns that the Alliance had captured were powering up to repel any possible Imperial ships that entered the area. Other were forces were activating now. It’s going to be a grueling fight, but at least we’ve got a good night’s rest…

“How is that radiation leak going?” questioned the bothan.

“It’s fixed,” replied an officer, “but the techs are still fixing parts of the back-up system, so they’ve requested that we don’t push it too hard down there…”

Hours had pasted since the battle for Sullust had begun. Now as the last of the defensive fleet was being cleaned up by Inferno fleet and the Defenses of Sullust had been mostly captured or destroyed, the difficult part of the operation began. Loyal Imperials on the surface of the planet had made a counter offensive push back towards the star port and were attempting to overtake the Rebels as the landed troops. Reshmar has taken a break and rested after he had given the order to begin landing operations. His attempt to rest was less that successful . he could not shake the feeling things were too easy. The planets defenses had been more than Fleet Intel had thought. The amount of Imperial army planet side had been the same. Nearly ten thousand regular imperial army had been fortified by another regiment of Stormtroopers who were not supposed to be there. In total four imperial divisions were stationed on Sullust when less than a battalion was the normal force assigned to the planet. He had briefly spoken to the Intelligence chief after the battle and ask why his people had messed up and he showed Reshmar report after report of the troop movements and numbers. The fact that four divisions of troops being moved to a planet of such little importance to the imperials did not sit well with Reshmar. The Imperials did not move that many troops to a world without a reason. Intelligence had decided they were evacuated from Coruscant and somehow arrived on Sullust within the last thirty six hours. Reshmar wanted to think that was so but he could not shake the feeling it was for another reason. Now the troops of his fleet fought tooth and nail for every inch of the star port they had thought sure they had taken hours ago.

Reshmar looked at a readout of the forces lost so far in this battle. Too many lives had been lost already, and with the larger than thought defensive force, many more were to come. Warning klaxons sounded and all around the men of the Hawkeyes command staff frantically worked to find a reason.

"Incoming fleet Admiral, bearing two seven six degrees. Imperials sir!"

On the halo display the new ships popped up and began to be identified. Seconds later Reshmars sensor chief spoke again.

"Interdictor field is being activated sir. I am identifying one star destroyer and one Interdictor cruiser and two escorts sir. Strange..."

Reshmar looked at the force. It was not impressive and the interdictor field would only make the cruiser a bigger target. The Senors officers had stopped mid sentence and was looking over the data on his display again.

"Admiral, The interdictor field is not arched toward us sir. It seems to be targeting sector seventeen."

Reshmar thought about what the man was saying. The Imperials had missed locking the gravity field in position to stop his group from jumping by almost ten kilometers. It was targeting dead space and had little effect on any of his force. Then it came to him, he had been a fool.

"Shields to full!"

The order had just been executed when the massive form of a Super Star Destroyer escaped hyperspace with a full support fleet, and opened fire.

(Setting: Whatever convenient point in “the past” which best fits with the preceding craziness)


Niven Sovv, Free Trade Directorate Communications Hub

Byllurun City was technically the political capital of the Sullustan government. It was also almost entirely owned by the SoroSuub Corporation, which this day in age meant it was property of the “Free Trade Directorate.”

Niven Sovv strolled down the long, marbled floor of the command and control hub of Sullust's extensive and unique communications network. With the entire civilization buried in the crust of the planet, standard comm transmissions were often distorted and lost. A hardline system ran throughout the expansive tunnel networks of Sullustan civilization, with transmitters and receivers picking up and converting signals for transmission along the hardline network.

With the building now under their control, they had access to the Free Trade Directorate emergency messaging channels. And they intended to use them.



Councilor Hritam, Sullustan Senate Building



The holoprojector fluttered to life, and the Vice President of the Sullustan Council addressed himself to the world he represented only by name, no longer by authority.

“I am High Councilor of the Senate and Vice President of the Sullustan Council, Hritam. I am the man who bartered our fate to the Free Trade Directorate in exchange for a promise that will never be fulfilled. I am ashamed of my foolishness, of my blind faith, of my terrible error.

“But I will not make that mistake again. This moment, allies of old do battle in the skies above our world, to free us both from the tyranny of the far-off Empire, and the evil of our own misguided Sei Maru. I stand with them now, in the name of a Free Sullust, to see your fate returned to you, to see the soil of Sullust once more bear the only fruit it is able: freedom.

“Stand with us. Stand freely as sons and daughters of Sullust. Defy the will of our unseen masters. Reclaim your birthright as Sullustans. Stand and fight. Stand, and never fall silent again.

“The Darkness must yield to Light.

“Shine.”



Gvrin Nplr, Private Sulon Estate



“It's confirmed, then? Sei Maru has been incapacitated?” The hand holding the commlink was shaking slightly, the magnitude of what he was about to do only now settling on him.

“Yes sir, that's correct.”

“Very well then.” Everything was already in place. With the press of a single button, the room's massive holoprojector flared to life, and Gvrin Nplr found himself sitting at a table with the blue-white likenesses of the remaining members of the Free Trade Directorate Board of Directors. “Director Maru has been incapacitated. In accordance with the Founding Charter of the Free Trade Directorate and as duty binds me, I must claim active directorship. The mandates are clear. Are there any objections?”

And the room remained silent. This was protocol, and every one of them knew how it had to play out. Gvrin waited the requisite period, then nodded solemnly and rose to his feet. “Very well then. I accept the responsibility of Active Director until such a time as Sei Maru can be reinstated or this Board of Directors determines a rightful replacement.

“Until that time, I am the sole voice and law of the Free Trade Directorate.” He slammed his fist on the control console, and the holograms blinked out of life, his own image now being transmitted across Sulon, Sullust, and the space which contained them.

“I am Acting Director of the Free Trade Directorate, Gvrin Nplr, appointed by Director Sei Maru and authorized by his Board of Directors. To all judicial and security forces of the Free Trade Directorate: stand down. Withdraw and return to ready status. I repeat: stand down, withdraw, and return to your posts.”

Gvrin paused for a moment, the pounding in his chest sending a shock of fear through his body. This was the moment. He stood now in the only place with the power to do the only right thing. It had to be done. He had sworn it . . . “I do hereby disband the Founding Charter of the Free Trade Directorate by Executive Order. All corporate assets of the Free Trade Directorate are therefore returned to the authority of the SoroSuub Corporation, and all political and military authority of the Sullustan people defaults back to the Sullustan Council. I serve now only as Acting Executive of the SoroSuub Corporation.

“High Councilor Hritam and members of the Sullustan Council: I and SoroSuub await only your command.”



Sien Sovv, Free Sullust Command



High Councilor Hritam had been waiting for the broadcast from Gvrin Nplr, and now Sien Sovv found himself in command of the entire security force of the Free Trade Directorate. While not altogether reliable, several key elements of the former Free Trade Directorate Security Force had already joined the fight, linking up with resistance units and redoubling their assaults on the Imperial forces on-world.

Soon, Sullust would be rid of its Imperial shackles, the last remnants of the Free Trade Directorate would be stripped away, and the people of Sullust would finally be free again.

The Hawkeye shook as blast after blast from the Imperial fleet slammed into her shields. The massive amount of energy was taking it toll on the new shields of the Modified Star Destroyer. A standard Venator could have never survived the punishment and would have lost shielding and taken massive hull damage from the surprise attack. Reshmar looked at the display which was too blurry and was crackling from the hit after hit on the ship. The assault lightened as the Imperials began targeting the other ships in the command formation as well.

"Status report Commander!"

The executive officer of the ship was acting Officer of the watch. he had been thrown from his feet by the assault and had now regained his footing and was working out the chaos which was created by the attack.

"Sir, shields are holding at forty seven percent. All reserve power and weapons caps have been routed to them. All decks report minor damage from the Concussion blasts sir. We have three confirmed casualties from engineering and at least forty seven wounded."

The Commander continued to read off duty stations and their condition, weapons readiness and ship damage reports. The barrage was strong now but the Hawkeye was holding her own. On one of the Fleet command screens Reshmar watched as a Munificent Frigate cracked open just forward of midship and exploded. The blast hit the shields of the Hawkeye with a massive concussion blast mixed with debris. The blast also caught the Recusant Destroyer Kirov and took her shields down. The gunners of the Imperial fleet took no time in identifying the weakness and took advantage pouring blast after blast into the ship. The Kirov had been moving into a flank position on the other side of Hawkeye when the Imperials attacked. She now sat eight hundred meted directly below Hawkeye. When the reactor of the ship went critical the blast struck the Hawkeye on her ventral arch and nearly took down her shielding.

A second Recusant Destroyer had been in Hawkeye's shadow for most of the Imperial barrage. The Kirov's destructive demise had weakened her shielding but she was still active and the only ship returning fire. Beside her the last of the group, an old Munificent, had suffered damage from the imperial attack and had turned to offer less of a target for the Imperials to attack. It was now joining the destroyer in returning fire at the Imperial formation.

"Commander reroute power back to weapons and return fire. Mister Mosses, Move us away from the that ship!"

On the bridge the Raymond Mosses had been tossed by the attack and a medic was now looking at his arm which had been broken when he fell. The ship was in one piece but she had suffered some electrical problems and now engineering was half staffed due to injured and dead and by the three repair crews throughout the ship making emergency repairs to essential systems. Moving was going to be easy. Turning was another story.

"All ready on it Admiral,"

Raymond had already decided to order the ship to move away. The last few minutes had been the closest to death by turbolaser he cared to be.he returned to his chair and tried not to think about the pain shooting up his arm.

"Plot a course in system away from the imperials current heading helmsman."

Reshmar looked on the display, the imperial fleet was moving away from his group and weapons fire was being returned from the rear ships in their formation. The Hawkeye had survived this first encounter now he had to make sure it survived the second. Now he had to decide what was next. Stay and fight the Imperials or move off and run leaving the ground troops landing on the planet as sitting ducks.

"Commander open a fleet channel."

Reshmar waited until he was given a nod.

"All ships. Cease Landing operations and prepare to defend the planet. We can not let out people down there Down. Move into group formations and move to engage the Imperial Fleet as you have regrouped and cleared your flight decks."

Reshmar knew his order was problematic. Most of the heavy ships were in the middle of landing their troop compliments and supporting the troops on the planet with the counter attacking imperials. The Imperial fleet was regrouping out near the asteroids and would be moving back for a second run on the fleet. His ship did not have the time to clear their decks of transports and troops and reload, refuel, and launch fighters. It was a timing game and Reshmar feared he had run out of time.

The Alliance fleet at Sullust was currently broken into three sections. Inferno Fleet held position near Sullust and Sulon, and had just withdrew beyond their gravity wells. The main body of the Third Fleet was in orbit of Sullust, supporting the landing actions of the main Alliance army force. The command group of the Third Fleet, which included the flagship Hawkeye, was well beyond Sullust's mass shadow. It had been assailed by the arriving Imperial warfleet.

Now the Imperials held position above the main body of the Third Fleet, content, it seems, to sit and wait for the Alliance to make a move.

These were the surface facts, the bits of information that anyone who could read a sensor screen would realize.

But the critical facts, those bits of knowledge that signaled victory and defeat, they had not been lost on Bandor Kre'fey.

“They're just sitting there,” Sei'lar commented, looking to Bandor for answers.

“The numbers say we're evenly matched. Their Executor makes them slower, so they can't chase us without splitting their force. They're stalling.” He paused for a moment, considering. “They're stalling for reinforcements.” But where the hell did they come from to begin with?

“Sir?” comms called out for the admiral. “Admiral Reshmar's asking for you.”

Kre'fey nodded, turning to the holoprojector. “Admiral, how fares the Third Fleet?”

“The command group was hit pretty hard. Hawkeye has sustained moderate damage to propulsion systems, but shields and weapons remain intact. We are effecting emergency repairs, but our battle group is in no position to move against the enemy fleet. Hawkeye may be out of the fight, but the Third Fleet is still with you, Sir.

"But that's not what this is about.”

Kre'fey's fur rippled apprehensively at the Mon Calamari's tone. “Proceed,” he ventured carefully.

“Hawkeye's upgrades include advanced sensor analysis systems. Sir, when the Imperial fleet passed through, we detected obvious signs of combat repairs across the whole fleet. They are not at full operational capacity. Only their SSD registers no obvious signs of damage.”

Kre'fey considered the information for only a moment. “Thank you, Admiral. Now I need to ask you to trust me. Take Hawkeye and all surviving support craft, and give chase to the enemy fleet.” The look of shock and betrayal on the Mon Calamari's face did not deter Kre'fey. “You're the only forces we have behind them now. Hold position beyond the extreme range of their weapons and make ready for combat. Whatever happens, stick to the shadow of that SSD, use its own mass to shield yourself from its weapons.

“And order the main body of the Third Fleet to maintain their defensive posture. If they run for open space, the Imperials will pounce. Are you up to the task, Admiral?”

The Mon calamari simply saluted and said, “Orders are in hand, Sir.”

Admiral Bandor Kre'fey returned the salute, shutting off the comm line and entering a string of commands into his own console, overriding standard communications systems and establishing contact with another figure.

Through the holoprojector, cold eyes stared back at the Bothan admiral. Set in an emotionless, human face, framed by the metallic protrusions of a cybernetic neural interface, this being exuded an unnerving air that transmitted across the emptiness of space. “Mr. Racto, I'm sending you coordinates and timetable. Make this one count.”

The figure in the hologram vanished without any sign of affirmation.

“What now,” Sei'lar asked, fully aware of who Mr. Racto was.

“Order Inferno Fleet to form up and make best possible speed to the Third Fleet's position. Swing wide, and keep us out of Sullust's gravity well and beyond the range of the Imperial guns. We will encircle the Imperial fleet, and strike in unison.

“Comms, open a line to the Imperial command ship.” When he had confirmation from the communications officer, he began.

“This is Admiral Bandor Kre'fey of the Inferon Fleet, to the commander of the Imperial Fleet now deployed in the Sullust System. We are here by request and authority of the Council of Sullust, to support this world and its people in their claim to independence. Your presence here is a violation of Sullstan sovereignty, and if you do not withdraw immediately, I am authorized and do intend to expel or subdue you by force.

“Sullust is free, and while I draw breath it will remain so.”







“Mr. Racto, I'm sending you coordinates and timetable. Make this one count.”

Garen Racto turned his cold eyes on the ship's captain and gave him the slightest nod.

Captain Harkoon gave the orders. “Ready the packet. Make the jump.” The ship vanished into hyperspace.

Thirty seconds later the Munificent-class Star Frigate Songbird reverted to realspace and broadcast a prepared message into the surrounding space.

Captain Harkoon turned to his guest. “Mr. Racto, you're on.”







The Empire had refused to allow any heavy warships belonging to SoroSuub's corporate defense fleet to maintain station at Sullust. It had insisted that only a mainline Imperial defense force protect the planet. For that reason, the Free Trade Directorate had seen to the development of an emergency response system, by which the administration of the Free Trade Directorate could call on assistance from any nearby SoroSuub forces performing convoy escort or corporate asset protection duties.

Protocol required the vessels to assemble at a preset and highly secretive deep-space rendezvous point, so that the vessels could arrive in-system together and provide the most viable counter to any relevant threat.

It also meant that some ships had to sit, blind, in space while they awaited the arrival of other SoroSuub forces which may have been further out. Regardless, the preset delay interval had just expired. The Free Trade Directorate force would make the jump to Sullust with whatever ships were present.

Onboard the bridge of the Dauntless-class Heavy Cruiser Guard Dog, the Sullustian Captain Jeb Jumb prepared to give the order. As captain of the largest vessel present, command of the force fell to him.

“Sir, hyperspace reversion detected,” the sensor officer called out.

Jumb grunted, more than a little annoyed. But if he was going into battle, he wanted all of the firepower he could get. “Hold the fleet until―”

Sirens sounded across the bridge. “What the hell?”

“That's not a SoroSuub vessel!” the tactical officer shouted, setting to work on his controls. “Shields raising, weapons online!”

The sirens fell short. “What the hell!” the captain shouted again.

“That was me, Sir,” the comm officer said. “We're receiving executive confirmation from the vessel. Munificent-class Star Frigate Songbird, with all appropriate checks and codes.”

The captain's eyes widened in shock. This was not a protocol he was familiar with. It meant . . . it meant this ship was from the Office of the Chief Executive.

“Get me a comm line!”

“They're already hailing, Sir.”

The blank face of a cyborg human materialized in front of the captain. “What the . . .”

“I am Garen Racto,” the man began. “Director Sei Maru has been subdued. I have been dispatched by Acting Director Gvrin Nplr of the Free Trade Directorate. Sullust has declared its independence from the Galactic Empire. The Free Trade Directorate has been disbanded by Executive Order, its constituent components submitted to the authority of the Sullustan Council. You are being called upon to assist in the liberation of you homeworld. Comply.”

Captain Jumb struggled to grasp the meaning of the words. “Umm, hmm . . . comms?”

“All codes are authentic, Sir. This . . . man is an authorized representative of the Free Trade Directorate.”

Jeb Jumb's lips began quivering. He couldn't believe it. He just couldn't believe it. After all this time, after wearing this uniform for so long . . . Sullust is free. With an unflattering squeal, Captain Jeb Jumb of the SoroSuub Defense Fleet tore the badge of the Free Trade Directorate from his uniform, throwing it to the deck. “For a Free Sullust,” He said firmly.

“You are being transmitted new entry coordinates. Remember, the Imperials are the bad guys now.”

Jeb Jumb saluted, but the human just disappeared. “All ships, all crews, this is your commander.” Jeb's voice was firm, strong, confident. Never in his life had he dreamed he could be of such value to his people. “Our people have declared their independence. Sullust is to be free again. The Free Trade Directorate has been disbanded. We are Free Sullustans again! Go now to war against our common foe. Go now to war against the Galactic Empire!”

He waited, and waited, and finally the captains answered. They were ready to free their home.

“Jump.”

Wesley stared out the front viewport on the bridge of the Tyrannus, watching the long streaming stars fly past the super star destroyer as it hurtled through the depths of hyperspace, enroute to N'Zoth from Sullust.

His hands clasped into one giant fist, his elbows resting on the arms of his command chair, his gaze unwavering in the slightest for the longest time, it came as no surprise that everyone on the bridge jumped slightly when he finally did move.

Unlike his posture, his mental self was moving in many directions at the same time, all centering around the recently withdrawn from battle, the evacuation of the planetary garrison, losses sustained, losses inflicted on the enemy fleet, and the recall orders that had come in via scout ship from Vladet.

He had replayed the message many times in his head, going over and over again in particular the phrase ordering him to take the garrison and its survivors along with most of his present fleet, including his flagship, to the Koornacht Cluster, and from there to await further orders, sent by authority of the Emperor under the code name Operation: Shadow stand.

He knew what that meant; he knew it very well indeed. He had been privy to a secret briefing between select members of Imperial High Command a few months ago when the first elements of the plan had been put into action.

'So, it has finally come to this, has it?'

'So be it.'

Leaving Sullust behind to the probably confused but gladly triumphant invaders, the SS fleet vanished deeper and deeper, bound for the Unknown, and what waits for them beyond.

(OOC Note: Keep in mind that this thread takes place before the conclusion of Cataclysm, so the New Republic does not yet exist)

The specifics, ultimately, were not relevant. What would have been, what could have been, what should have been. These were immaterial. After all of the considerations, a single fact remained:

The Empire had fled Sullust.

Perhaps Admiral Reshmar sat on the bridge of his battle-damaged command ship, considering fearfully whether or not his Bothan superior would really have sent him, all but alone, against the flank of an entire Imperial war fleet. Perhaps Sien Sovv was staring up at the starlit sky of his homeworld, a knot of despair growing in his stomach as he realized just how vulnerable his act of rebellion had made Sullust. Perhaps Captain Jeb Jumb, having arrived just in time to see the Imperial fleet vanish into hyperspace, was still stunned to inaction by the magnitude of the battle he had only just avoided, and so his small squadron of ships continued, uncommanded, across the Sullustan sky in a standard combat reversion pattern.

Perhaps Admiral Bandor Kre'fey had bluffed, perhaps he would not have risked his painstakingly assembled organization in the defense of a world that swore him no allegiance. Perhaps, as he rested in his personal quarters, he wondered at his Imperial counterpart, who―even if he had stayed, fought, and lost―might have made Inferno Fleet and the whole of the Alliance pay such a price for the liberation of Sullust that it could not have hoped to defend the world against future assault.

Perhaps.

But none of that mattered anymore.



By now, Alliance Intelligence would have confirmed the identity of the Imperial commander as Colonel-General Wesley Vos. It would have analyzed the Imperial exit vector and formulated probable destinations. It would have made a threat-assessment on the probability of an impending counter-attack to pacify and reacquire Sullust.

By now, Sullustan military forces would have begun repairs on planetary defense systems, preparing the world for that potential combat. SoroSuub would have recalled a substantial fraction of its corporate defense force to bolster the world's defenses.

By now, the fires would have gone out. The rubble would have been cleared from the streets. The warrior-shouts of liberty would have died down to friendly greetings and newly accepted social ritual.

By now, fear would have begun to replace pride as billions of Sullustan civilians awoke to the reality of their choice: Sullust now stood alone in the midst of a galaxy facing calamity.

And now, High Councilor Hritam had to do the only right thing left for himself.

He called a press conference.

He was nervous, dreadfully nervous, but he had to get through this. It had to be said.

It has to be said.

So Councilor Hritam straightened himself up as best he could, gave his lips one last nervous lick, and took a final few slow, deep breaths as he waited for the live transmission to begin.

“Fellow Sullustans, we have been through so very much together these past several days. We have cast off the shackles of the Empire, and reclaimed our self-governance from the grasp of the Free Trade Directorate. We have made new allies, who came to our aid in our time of need, who stood between us and those who would see us enslaved once more, who acted when all others were content to sit idly by and permit the grave injustices which have been done unto us. With no promise of reciprocation, no treaty of commitment or pledge of servitude on our part, the forces of the Alliance to Restore the Republic and the independent Inferno Fleet rallied to our cry, stood shoulder to shoulder with our brave freedom fighters and drove the Empire from our land!

“Now, we stand free. Now, we stand proud . . . but history gives more than one account of a Free Sullust, swayed with the passage of time and the ease of compliance to abandon her sovereignty, her oath to democracy, to become once more a puppet of forces and institutions alien to her.

“I led us to such a place, once. With the best of intentions, I sold our liberty for an empty promise, and for that reason I am unfit to lead you now. I am resigning, effective immediately, and though I no longer have the power to make it so, I do possess the will to shout for what should be. As a free citizen of Sullust, I demand the Sullustan Council ratify and enact emergency legislation to allow for and initiate special elections to replace the current Council and install a government free of the taint of the past.

“A free and just Sullust must be led by free and just Sullustans. It is only then that we can look to the stars, stand on even ground with our new allies, boldly and without compromise face the evils of this age and overcome them.

“To our allies, to our brave and stalwart defenders: I ask that you give us time. Time to heal the wounds of civil war. Time to forgive ourselves of the crimes of the past. Time to find the pure soul of our people once more.

“I had been authorized, by the Sullustan Council, to declare here and publicly, the support of Sullust to the Alliance to Restore the Republic, to the dream of a galaxy free and at peace. And while I, personally, hold no greater hope, I would ask that you wait, just a while, so that you may hear the true voice of the Sullustan people speak their will.

“Sullust is free, and we count the Alliance among our most gracious friends, but for now that is all that I by rights can say.

“The future is in your hands, my brave brothers and sisters. Shall we keep what we have gained here for ourselves only to ourselves, or do we dare to dream of a future in which there will be once more:

“Liberty and Justice for All.”