"So tell me sir, what was it like?"

Dace Archon drummed his hand across the bulkhead of the ship, gripping his fists in a gesture of warmth and appreciation.

"Tell me my good sir, what was it like working with them... them...

His eyes lowered in respect and reverence.

"... the empire. The true Imperialism. Do tell, what was it like?"

The man across from Archon's position simply glowered in condemnation and disgust. His eyebrows raised with hint of annoyance, though smirked slightly in repose.

"It was more hell than fighting a Caridian combat arachnid, not that you might have shared the experience."

Dace grunted.

"Don't patronize me. You were involved with the work of genuine Imperialism. You owe it to society to relate to me the values and benefits from such work."

The figure in response shifted a finger Archon's direction.

"And you owe it to this company dear sir to lay any non-neutral loyalties aside so as not to endure this grand installation through political babble and strife."

Dace rolled his eyes, and the figure caught the gesticulation of young naive attitude. He continued to lecture Dace.

"You cannot perceive the lengths and breadth that Premier Tenloss had to conceive to remove this company from all the damn War that's broken out through the galaxy these days. This company's..."

His arms waved in possessive gesture.

"... our best chances of preserving the peace in our quadrant is to remain strictly politically neutral from the War. We can't afford to allow our affiliations mingle with the New Order any longer."

Dace offered a gesture of consolation to the man seated at the empty desk.

"Then perhaps, we instead offer support to its enemies, I wonder?"

The figure grew quite indignant at Dace' comment, and threw a hand threateningly across the platinum of his empty desk.

"You are quite foolish to think that the Premier would ever allow such a thing! To render aid to terrorists!?"

The figure spat in obvious contempt.

"The New Alliance is terrorists, period. Fear and anguish are the blocks which build their constitution of the very denizens they strive to subjugate under it."

After a period of silence, the figure calmed his breath, and quietly solemnly spoke out.

"At least, in your respects, I can vouch that the New Order is trying to subjugate it's citizens under a tight moral code of honor... ... ... ... and it is a fine thing indeed that they strive to bring down these terrorists that are now ravishing the galaxy of peace... ... of serenity."

Dace' eye caught the figures, and withdrew with hesitation. The young lad had felt himself at fault, and quite justly did so. It was an unwise career choice to suddenly take allegiance outside the company, yes... indeed, he knew the charter quite well. With a sigh, the figure continued.

"And though we cannot directly aid the New Order in it's game of chess, there are more subtle ways of promoting its success in the War."

The lad's face brightened, and it appeared as though a shiver and tingle of excitement gave fruit in his features.

"Subtle ways, sir?"

The figure gave a sly, lop-sided smile.

"Indeed. There are more factions in the War with the New Alliance than you think, young Dace. By rendering aid in whatever we can afford, supplies, munitions, morale... we can bring peace back into the galaxy again."

Dace Archon had to snuff back a tear from the traumatic experience with this so experienced orator. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Peace will be restored. It doesn't matter who gets the job done, New Order, New Republic. Peace will be restored.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> It was a waning tributary, but nonetheless, a tributary. Peace would be restored.

The figure rose, and extended a hand towards Dace, as well as a new mission profile. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> My first assignment!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> Dace accepted the hand with enthusiasm.

"I'm glad I signed on with Cryonics Industries Mr. Cronus."

Adalric Cronus grinned back at the young intelligence operative, a twinkle of vague hope registered in his battle hardened features. Departing, Dace Archon quickly sped through the metropolis of Onderon, where he hoped to catch the first shuttle to a rendezvous station with the Munitions Armada, docked somewhere in orbit.

Hitching a ride with a passing freight bus on it's way to the local spaceport, Dace couldn't help wondering about the strange man in the debriefing room. The strange man indeed. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> That strange man<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, he pondered. And when he was through pondering whatever it was he was pondering about, he decided that it well wasn't worth the effort in attempting to reason his ideals with that of the reminiscing old fool.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> I wonder if I'll see him again.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

“So Cronus, should I assign a watch over this lad?”

Adalric shook his head, his shaggy brown hair brushing through his fingers. A tinge of anxiety betrayed his thoughts. Tenloss, sitting hunched on the platinum desktop, hands folded resting on his lap, seemed somewhat unorthodox in his manner of dealing with new recruits to his company. The corporate executive officer preferred to oversee the employing of right ranking officers into his ilk.

Adalric sighed, complacent, though a bit disappointed.

“Aye sir, young Archon’s loyalties seem somewhat drifting between fault lines of his political neutrality. I think it’s wise that we place a tracker on him, at least until we ascertain his loyalties from the result of this mission.”

A new voice interrupted from the corner of the small dorm, dark and gruff in tone.

“Has he yet opened his mission debriefing?”

Attention turned towards Cryonics Industries’ security officer, Davin Halcyon. The brisk, aged man sat in his mid fifties, a stage of bitter sweet suspicion aroused in his nature. Cronus returned a reply.

“Not as of yet. He still hasn’t reached the spaceport debriefing center.”

Davin grunted in dismay.

“This lad doesn’t have the slightest clue as to what kind of deep he’s getting his poor self into.”

Adalric let fly a wily smirk.

“But, he’s the best in his trade, so it’s best we recruited him into our ranks, then allowed him to pull himself inevitably deep into the organization, than allowing the New Alliance, or say, one of the lesser corporations to sponsor him as their own property.”

Tenloss nodded.

“Indeed gentlemen. In any game, intelligence is what gives a player an edge, tactically, politically, economically."

Tenloss shifted his hand, pointing towards the narrow doorway.

"When that young man realizes just how astronomical this assignment is, they'll be no turning back from his accomplishing our goals."

Cronus nodded.

"I concur. But for the time being, Davin is right. This one can't be fully trusted for the moment, so let's assign him a shadow, shall we?"

Halcyon gestured a remark.

"I've taken the initiative to select a tracker that would be most suitable for this assignment. Do I have your conset Lord Tenloss?"

Tenloss finally sighed in acknowledgement.

"Make it so."

The large metropolis beamed with the life force of thousands denizens busying about their respected duties, heading towards their destinations, throughout the complex. Dace, along with his armed escort, arrived promptly within the hour at the Cryonics Industries private spaceport. The huge urban complex, located in the capital of Korriban, was the center of military traffic for the system’s inbound planetary defenses.

Dace also noted, by the recent arrival and departure of private company yacht, that Lord Tenloss took the spaceport as a secure conference area for his preferred confidential costumers. As the armored and speeder arrived from an outbound vector from traffic lanes to the security gates. A monitor droid recognized the proper entrance codes from the mission statement, as the speeder hovered through the locks.

Docking with a pressurized seal against a bulkhead extending from the main arrival complex of the station, Dace stepped through the magnetic locks, heaving a sigh of relief at being in fresh open airways again. He had always dreaded the rooming conditions of such snub craft. Accepting his boarding pass and identification papers from the speeder pilot, he briskly brought himself to a steady walk through corridors, stairwells, and arrival and departure centers of the spaceport.

Attending his destination, he casually stepped through an oval office, where seated an aged, fair-haired officer of late fifties. The serene looking man extended a gesture of greeting to Dace, whereas both men took seats opposite of each other, surrounding an adjoining oval table centered in the room. The figure raised an eyebrow in innocent suspicion.

“You’ll pardon me sir, if I ask to see your identification papers?”

Archon nodded in accordance. Extending the identification papers towards the dear old fellow, Dace took a moment to glance at his chronometer. He was a few minutes away from departure. Dace noted the confused frown slip into the man’s features.

“Sir, is there a problem? I trust all is in order?”

The figure looked into Archon’s eyes, as if attempting to peer through some vague shroud of fraud. He finally bit his lip in failure, with a finalized comment.

“Sorry sir, but there’s a bit of failed procedure here under your galactic visa. I’ll have to clear it with headquarters before I can escort you to your flight. It shall only be a moment.”

Dace nodded, glancing at the figure that strolled out the narrow doorway. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Failed procedure? In my galactic visa?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> He bit his lip. He muttered to himself in contempt.

“I guess I’ll have to be more thorough in going over my identification papers.”

His eyes locked on an intangible source, as if a sudden realization had transfixed itself upon him. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> A failed procedure in identification procedures!?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> The idea seemed more and more ridiculous as the nanoseconds ticked by. Finally, with relief, the figure stepped back into the room, a refreshing smile on his features.

“Everything’s fine sir. Headquarters noted a materials droid probably gone haywire, scribbled something incredulous on your transcript here.”

He gestured towards Dace.

“Shall we sir, I can take you to your flight now.”

Archon stood up, and walked from his seat towards the narrow doorway. Stopping beside the foreman, he reached for his identification papers, inquiring.

“What was the technicality, anyways?”

The old man’s face grew hesitant, at which Dace picked up visually, and he pushed onward.

“Sir, I’d like to know the problem, just for reference.”

The figure drew back against the doorway, as if threatened.

“Ah... well you see sir... ah... just a minor slip up in your visa option...”

Dace interrupted suddenly, cutting off the man’s sentence with a wave of his hand.

“You explained that to me once sir, what was the technicality specifically?”

The foreman’s eyes darted around the room.

“Just a mistake concerning a number of passengers traveling with you.”

Dace’ features grew quiet solemn, a perplexing look grew in his eyes. His voice grew rasp, icy, and he stared the foreman down.

“I wasn’t taking on any passengers sir.”

The foreman finally broke his panicked trance, and hurriedly darted out the doorway.

“Yes sir, just a mistake, now please, come with me, I’ll escort you to your flight.”

Confused, and irritated, Archon finally gave up, and followed the motioning foreman. He led the pair of a shaft through a thicket of corridors, to where they finally managed to designate Dace to his flight.

“You have a good night sir. Take care on assignment.”

The words haunted Dace, as he paced through the airlock towards his acceleration seat. A boarding attendant, accompanied by the ship captain, met with him, clarified and recognized his boarding pass, and the attendant aided him in securing Dace to the acceleration chair.

Minutes soon strolled by, finally, the captain’s voice broke through the intercom, finalizing their departure after a few minutes of preflight initiation procedures.

<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Several Minutes Later<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->

A dark brilliance lit up the night sky, giving off a spectacle of light and flame, dazzling the denizens of Korriban’s capital beneath. At the rendezvous point, Dace would meet up with the assignment coordinator, and finally receive a long awaited briefing.

Dusk laid siege to the inhabitants of the Onderon. The crisp morning air cut through the piercing opaque darkness, leaving bits of crevices of sparse land obscure under the newly sunlit skies. Flora and fauna of sorts arose from caverns, unveiled their blooms, fresh as the dawns dew. The tropical, humid climate of the system became quite relevant as the sun’s rays brightened with intensity.

An urban spaceport outside the outskirts of the lush vegetation was bristling with activity, as freighters, modular cruisers, transports, and a wing of combat fighters were making their daily rounds over the city grounds. Dace viewed the spaceport-landing pad earnestly through his acceleration chair, eyeing for a representative from the Cryonics Industries Operations Bureau. Yonder, near a docking hatch, he could spy several officers in gray jumpsuits waiting at the entry gates, briefcases in one hand, the hand clutching a straining necktie.

The company transport he had accompanied to Onderon docked with the spaceport on-loading and off-loading facilities. A relieved faced captain exited from the cockpit, passing a grin towards Archon. A flight attendant eased him out of his acceleration chair, and assisted him with his carry on luggage. His duffle bag and manila folder tucked underneath and arm, he extended a hand to the flight attendant, and briskly walked off the transport to meet with his envoy.

Stepping through the docking gates, a representative from the envoy extended salutations to Dace, and explained the current state of affairs of the mission project.

"Officer Archon. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m John Sage of the Operations Bureau. I was sent here by Adrian Atriedes to escort you to our department."

Grinning, Dace acknowledged his cooperation.

"Very well Mr. Sage. Shall we be getting along?"

Sage nodded, turned around towards an exit ramp in full military step, and begun a light step towards an armored speeder awaiting the men outside.

"My colleagues will gather the rest of your belongings, we have little time to spare. Your due to dust off towards the mission located in less than six hours, and Mr. Atriedes wants to give you a thorough objective briefing."

Interested, and his curiosity aroused, Dace pushed.

"How long has the Operations Bureau been working on the structure of this project? It seems highly irregular to give me a full briefing with dust off six hours from now, considering that I’ve not been given word of this assignment until two days ago."

Sage grinned, letting his eyes drop to the floor.

"Approximately three days."

Dace looked astonished.

"Three days! What about pre-emptive intelligence? Surely three days are not enough to gather such data."

Sage’s eyebrows raised in puzzlement.

"Surely Mr. Archon, your not questioning the resources of Cryonics Industries. Allow me to give you this bit of insight..."

Waving his finger at Dace, he lectured on.

"... when Mr. Tenloss wants a job done, the job gets done. When and how are irrelevant. When he needs something to fit his time table, then we’ll pull resources from heaven and hell to make it fit so."

Archon glanced at Sage, nodding.

"That’s the job of CI’s Operations Bureau, Mr. Archon. And it’s your job, as part of the Intelligence Bureau, to make certain that our operations are carried out with precision and accuracy."

<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Nine minutes later.<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->

“Mr. Sage, it’s been a pleasure.”

Accepting his hand in gratitude, John Sage returned a similar statement. The two departed from the armored speeder in opposite directions, though through the same structure of an enormous expanse. In essence, Archon was now standing through the receptionist commons of the CI Operations Bureau. Denizens of all sorts, humanoid and alien origin stalked through the hallways and corridors of the immense arena.

Dace approached the receptionist hallway, and casually strolled to a clerk’s desk. A red haired clerk looked up in his direction, smiling.

“Can I assist you sir?”

Dace leaned his elbow against the desk, grinning wryly.

“Indeed, I believe I have an appointment with senior officer Adrian Atreides.”

The clerk glanced at her computer console, fingers dancing along the keyboard in mused silence. Pulling up databases of secular appointments, she acknowledged Archon’s claim, looking back towards her attendee.

“Yes sir, your two minutes early. Down the hall, to the left, take the turbo lifts down to black section, straight ahead, second door to your left. I’ll notify him you're on your way.”

Dace nodded, and departed from the receptionist hallway. Arriving at black section, he mused to his appraisal that the area was relatively void of life. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> This must be a classified area.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> Following the clerks, directions, he arrived at his destination, a gold faceplate marked Adrian’s officer.

Operations Bureau Director. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> How quaint.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> Walking in, he greeted the secretary at the front desk, and she motioned him through the doorway to the director’s officer. Dace opened the door, glancing at the menacing figure seated in the chair across him. Shutting the door behind him, Dace stood at attention, throwing the senor officer a salute.

“Sir, request permission to engage briefing.”

Adrian nodded, his reflective eyes hinting a slight trait of annoyance. Gesturing towards the seat in front of his opal desk, he replied, consternation in his voice.

“Sit Mr. Archon. I’ve not the time for protocol. This briefing is going to take some time, and I need you to take in every bit of detail you can.”

Archon grunted, and took his seat, puzzlement draw in his eyes.

“Aye sir.”

Withdrawing a portfolio from his side drawer he handed a packet of defined stapled papers.

“The statistics of your objective. Take a few minutes to read up.”

Archon’s eyes grew as he continued through his briefing.

<!--EZCODE UNDERLINE START-->Objective Statistics<!--EZCODE UNDERLINE END-->- Top Security Clearance

Project Code Name- Trivial Loyalties

<!--EZCODE UNDERLINE START-->Prologue:<!--EZCODE UNDERLINE END-->

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> The manufacture and sale of druids is a lucrative business dominated by the Big Two-Cybot Galactica and Industrial Automation. Other major druids players include Arakyd Industries, Genetech Corporation, MerenData, and Veril Line Systems.

Of the millions of droid manufacturing plants in the galaxy, the two largest are Mechis III and Telti, which together produce a sizable percentage of all new automations. Both locations are entire worlds covered with sprawling construction facilities, and fully automated assembly lines; any human interaction in the fabrication process other the most minimal supervision is unnecessary and counterproductive. The major droid companies pay these two worlds a negotiated fee for the use of their assembly plants, a cost that is acceptable given the speed and accuracy with which they can churn out large orders. Arakyd Industries, Genetech Corporation, SoroSuub Corporation, and Veril Line Systems, are some of the companies that employ Mechis III for a major share of their production. Industrial Automation and Cybot Galactica rely heavily on Telti.

Droids manufactured by the Mechis III and Telti plants are under strict contract by the company designers.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

<!--EZCODE UNDERLINE START-->Summary:<!--EZCODE UNDERLINE END-->

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Cryonics Industries Economic Analysts reports that civilian shareholders of Industrial Automation have risen to 70% ownership. The remainder 30% is under the sole proprietor ship of the IA administrative board.

This 70% of civilian shareholders includes wealthy landowners, political bureaucrats, independent entrepreneurs, and private licensing franchises.

Informant Contacts and financial brokers report that the administrative board of Industrial Automation is planning to flood the market of Astromech R series droids to lower demand, and force the shareholders to sell their share of stock, and thus give the administrative board 100% ownership of IA.

With the manufacturing reports we’ve gained, CI economic consultants have predicted the precise second that the market will flood with merchandise. This advantage gives CI the edge we need to corner the Astromech market at 70% ownership of stock shares.

With this ownership initialized, our percentage of income and profits from the stock shares will give CI the capitol it needs to buy out the 30% stock shares owned by the administrative board. In effect, CI will ultimately control Industrial Automation.

Following this procedure, CI military resources will execute a decisive strike against the Mechis III and Telti systems, gaining the two major droid producing systems in the galaxy to exclusively produce the IA droid line.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

<!--EZCODE UNDERLINE START-->Project Results:<!--EZCODE UNDERLINE END-->

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> With this inheritance of the company of Industrial Automation, CI will corner the Astromech market, and claim a sole proprietorship monopoly over the market itself. This will allow us leeway to open new opportunities for other legitimate economics.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

Dace’ eyes lifted from the paper, his face etched in a stone grin.

“So I take it I’ll be representing a delegation to go to the galactic stock market at Coruscant?”

Adrian simply nodded. Dace grinned wryly. His thoughts were running wild with the possibilities of expanding his career. His only words after Adrian’s reaction were sweet and precise, acknowledging his position during this mission.

“When do I leave?”

“Mr. Halcyon, would you care to take us out?”

Davin nodded indignantly. Adalric Cronus was serving as the company’s diplomatic liaison on this expedition, and to his expected pretense, Mr. Cronus was beginning to wear out his welcome. The usual pride and arrogance that came with heading one’s own task force started to climax his annoyance, and patience, at taking orders from a diplomat.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Though the Proctor of Records produced an interesting back ground for Mr. Cronus<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> He stroked his chin, eyeing the silhouette over his shoulder and grinning wry. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> I’ll have to have him join me in a competitive simulation once upon a time.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> Gesturing to his right, he motioned a petition to his chief tactical officer, Khurgee. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Et tu, comrade? You also have a quite extensive and notable history. More so, with your commanding officer…<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> He stole another glance at Cronus.

“Lieutenant Khurgee, initiate pre jump protocol.”

Khurgee nodded, expressionless, yet, determined passion etched into his face. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> The eyes… battle hardened and professional.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

“Relay, open up synchronized channel, decrypt frequency.”

His attention gathered portside to Relay department, a technician’s officer affirming his request.

“All units, prep in sequence escort formation. Pull sub light speed to match six point eight of the command destroyer. Lock in entrance vectors and synchronize entrance jumps to five minutes prior to now.”

“I want flight decks hot on all task force command cruisers. A single squadron of intercept craft to launch and span out the moment we engage exit vectors to realspace.

“When we jump in system, roll call. The command destroyer will register hostiles, and feed the necessary data through the individual task forces. Legionnaire II and I will spearhead the engagement, legionnaire IV will pull to a starboard vector at the command Phalanx, match sub light frequencies, and provide escort recon. Legionnaire III will await at the neutral zone until signaled for support. Blockade Centurion I will take up the aft vector of the flotilla and mop up the rest."

“Remember, our objective is to clear all hostile units in the corridor and open a space lane for our drop ships to land on the system surface.”

He paused momentarily, checking his chronometer.

“Alright folks, lets move into position. Lock in entrance vectors and engage on my mark.”

Khurgee’s flare of the impending event sent his alert level sprawling. With a flick of his wrist, Davin gave the order to proceed.

“Mark.”


OOC:

<!--EZCODE CENTER START--><!--EZCODE CENTER END-->

Adrian Atreides watched as Mr. Archon responded full of spunk.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Where does Tenloss get these kids?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

"Immediately, Mr. Archon. Immediately."

Adrian shifted his weight a bit in his chair as he moved forward to gauge the young man. The young man had the makings of a small moustache that he seemed to try to be growing.

Speaking of growing..

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Atreides, my boy. You must lose some weight. Cushy desk jobs just do not do much for your physique. Oman was right, curse that foul scoundrel!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


"Phase B of the plan is already in operation which makes your actions that much more critical.

We <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> know<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> the time the market will flood.

We <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> know<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> the time the selling will start at the greatly reduced prices. If you start purchasing upon your arrival, at IA's current stock prices to beat people, you will use up all the capital Cryonics has allocated for this venture before the drop on the market happens.

If that happens, you will not have enough of the allocated money to purchase the suddenly free stock that is being offered, even at the greatly reduced price.

Analysts show that we would only purchase 49% of the stock options and that doesn't work for us.

Your actions need to be precisely timed and aggressive. There will be others trying to do the same thing."


He stared at the rather young man. Threats wouldn't work and, really, they were beneath Adrian.

So, he did the only thing that one could do with young people after preaching to them:


"So, for repetition, tell me your mission objectives Mr. Archon."


He would be damned if he'd send a young welp of a boy off on an important mission and have him not know what he was supposed to do.

“Hyperspace reversion in twenty seconds, all departments, sound off.”, said Khurgee, his gruff voice immersed with impending authority.

Davin Halcyon had busied himself with taking the final protocol alert stance, initiating his strategic technological elements.

“Core, hook me up to the TCC, and bring the SCHCF system online.”

The Tactical Command Console had been in use in with Cryonics Industries naval service for a better part of several months throughout the company’s existence. The system’s administrative console was encased in a fashionable up to date polyurethane metalloid shell extending two meters in width, three feet in overall height, a reclining repulsion chair suited for luxury covered the difference between the occupants waist to the bridge of the console. The entire console itself was structured into a an technically efficient, non problematic horseshoe design, the occupant seated inside the horseshoe had bit to bank the repulsion chair 90 degrees at any angle to have a full array of technical equipment n order to direct a conflict to a favorable and desired conclusion.

The latest in slave circuit command technology allowed the station officer to have complete control over any of the ship’s systems. Sensors, weapon batteries, propulsion, shield modulation, communications, all these systems were slave circuit linked to the TCC, giving the occupant the necessities need to complete their objective. Enhanced to a measurable degree, the TCC gave the user unlimited options of ship commands, controls, and functions.

The latest edition to the complete armament of systems was the newly developed Serial Code Hyper Communications Grid, know for as the SCHCG system. It was a revolutionary technology in mainstream combat communication. CI research and development engineers designed the ultimate in efficient and securely encrypted communications.

The SCHCG system was a hyper communications interface implementing the use of subspace receivers detecting and acknowledging transmissions based on whether the transmission was forwarded to a serial code assigned to the subspace receiver.

In example, the subspace transceiver built into the TCC of the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Blaze of Glory<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> registers a serial code designated to all ships under that command phalanx. The subspace transceivers of the engagement legions under the CI 1st fleet also register their own unique serial code.

The SCHCF system allows the user to interface with these serial codes, interpreting them into acknowledgement signals for various transmissions between the taskforces. A user of one task force can dial into the interface of another, and forward an active communications link to the user of another taskforce. An example: the user of the TCC on aboard the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Blaze<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> accesses the SCHCG system integrated into his TCC console, and dial into the interface of another SCHCG system of another TCC console in another taskforce. The user can then set up an encrypted voice “chat” communications grid with that user, thus establishing an encrypted, non-detectable hyper communications grid

Non-detectable? That means, in theory, that subspace receivers and various other sensor equipment on aboard enemy craft, or another taskforce’s SCHCG system in the friendly battalion couldn’t intercept the communications grid? Precisely so. The SCHCG system does not use transmissions as its base of communications. It simply accesses the SCHCG system interface of another user, and drops a communication grid packet at that interface, allowing the user to accept and acknowledge the packet.

The only downside to the system was the grueling process of setting up “chat” grids through the entire fleet. Protocol calls for such a task to be done before traversing in hyperspace.

“Hyperspace reversion imminent! All departments, brace for reversion!”

Khurgee strode to his seat accented at the catwalks above the various bulkheads, strapping in securely to his acceleration-dampening module.

In a few breathtaking moments, the star lines faded back to their normal fathoms of light; a large figure ahead eclipsing 1st Fleet in a void ominous shadow.

“That’s Mechis III people, look alert.” Halcyon was presently seated in the repulsion chair at the TCC, punching up commands to access the SCHCG system. “Relay, scan active and passive perimeters, verifies feedback.”

The majestic stealth of the fleet cruised into an outer orbit around Mechis III, precisely 170,000 kilometers out from the planet’s atmosphere. “Navigation, hold here. Engines at 1.7 velocity.”

Suddenly, a report rang out from the master technician in Relay Department. “Sir, the active scanning perimeter reports three targets at high velocity, matching our vector!”

Nodding, Davin tapped into a video modulation sensor, bringing up an imagery sensor to fix on the approaching targets. “Enhance by three quarters.” The imagery adjusted, displaying the clear view of the sleek vessels rampaging toward the fleet. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Hmm... intercept gunships... probably docked in high atmosphere orbital platforms. But this system was supposed to be completely void of any military presence... and the size, and shape of those vessels... only one species in the galaxy produces such craft.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> However, what Davin’s eye caught along the broad side of one of the vessels gave reason for him to shiver, and confirmed his suspicion. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Yevetha!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> In the keel of one of the approaching ships, displayed in plain view, was the christening name of <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Victor of Yevetha<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->. “Navigation! Raise shields, full modulation to our energy and particle generators!”

Swiveling in his repulsion chair, his fingers danced along the control panel of the SCHCG interface, simultaneously barking out another order. “Gunnery, bring the main batteries to bear on those targets!” Turning his face to Khurgee, he motioned for the young officer to bring his own preparations. “Khurgee, launch and monitor the fighter screen. You know the protocols.” Nodding, the dutiful officer left to attend to his own.

“What are doing?”, came the suspicious and aggravated voice from Adalric Cronus. His eyes were menacing with dreadful horror. “Why are you bringing up those vessels on our targeting screens? What right have you?” He stood, in full measure of Imperial dignity, and began a slow and awkward approach to Davin’s station.

Not looking back from his task, Davin said, “All the right in my charter. My responsibility is to ensure the security of this foundation, and I’m doing just that.”, he pointed a finger towards the bow view ports of the Super Star Destroyer. “Those are Yeventhan thrustships approaching our vectors sir, and at their current velocity, it looks like they’re pretty fracken mad.”

Adalric’s jaw slumped forward in bitter astonishment, disbelief and doubt in his eyes, glaring over the bow view ports. “Yevethan thrustships... we must hail them... we can’t afford to engage in such aggressive actions before acquiring their purpose here in this sector. Davin, this is not right, for all we know, there could be human lives piloting those ships.”

Davin shook his head stubbornly. “Any human piloting a Yeventhan vessel is blunt our of his mind. You do know the New Republic issued a dismantle on sight decree for all Yevethan thrustships after the Black Fleet Crisis, don’t you sir?”, gesturing towards the ships again, he implored. “Do you want to be the one responsible for the lives of our men for not taking the proper precautions? I don’t.”

“Mr. Halcyon!”, his voice echoed across the bridge, with every commanding might and majesty he could summon, then dropping his voice to a whispered hush. “Attempt to hail them now.”

Davin’s face worn a frown of contempt, his mind riddles with the logic running through this commander’s mind. Finally nodding, he replied, “Relay department, attempt to hail the targets in all space band frequencies, tell them that if they do not yield their vessels and heave to, we’ll blow their asses to whatever hell they believe in.” The Relay master technician glared at Davin in surprise, not quite knowing if his superior wanted his message translated into some diplomatic euphemism. “S--- Sir? Exactly like that?”

“Exactly like that son.” Turning back to his duties, he initiated contact with his point guard taskforce.




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Reaching for a button on the SCHCG system panel, his finger triggered a flip, activating the “chat” grid for the two point guard formations.

Speaking through an audio headset, Davin’s voice was relieved. “Captains, you are there?”, after a brief pause, a voice replied in similar relief. “Aye sir. We should have followed protocol.”

Halcyon’s bemused himself a smile. “Indeed, I’ll make a personal note of the matter in my log.”, then pausing for a more dramatic effect, he continue on, “Captains, those vessels are Yevethan thrustships on an approach vector matching ours. Do you concur?”

“Indeed sir, our sensors registered the same class of vessel. What is our stance?”

“Well, at their current velocity, they should reach our position in four minutes. That gives us about three minutes of time to jockey our forces in an intercept---.” Warning signals from the navigation console of the TCC were flashing. Banking the repulsion chair to read the warning flash, his eyes lit with surprise. HYPERSPACE DISTORTION.

Before he could utter a command, Cronus was at his feet, delivering a petition to Relay Department.

“Relay, track that anomaly! Identify source!”

A moment later, the master technician of the Relay Department responded with grim news. “Sir, another vessel matching the structure profile to our previous targets.” Cronus looked at Davin with a scowl of contempt, and the High Admiral read the look of appeal in the his eyes, nodding in affirmation.

“Captains, deploy your forces on a countercept vector to the approaching formation of Yevethan thrustships. The leashes are off for you two gentlemen, hit ‘em hard!”

A small explosion through the black vacuum rocked the super structure directly port of the Super Star Destroyer, brining the bridge occupants in efforts to stabilize their balance and remain firm to their stations. Cronus was at the port side viewing screens, his eyes giving witness to a dramatic, tragic, unforeseen event. “Stang”, he hoarsely whispered. “They just knocked out a dreadnoght from third legion.”

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Son of a @#%$<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> Connecting two other SCHCG grid links, the two astonished voices from 3rd Legion and 1st Centurion. “Fleet Commander hailing third legion and first centurion, a fourth target has reversed at our port vector, proceed to defcon grade H. Third legion, you have immediate authorization to eliminate that threat with extreme prejudice. Sign off.” A momentary pause, then click, followed by an eerie dial tone signaling the disconnection of 3rd Legion’s supervisor. “First centurion, follow on course with the command phalanx. Position your pickets in a secured perimeter relative to your escort destroyers. Sign off.”

“Sir, all first and second legions report all decks hot. Ready to launch fighter screen.” Davin wasn’t in need to turn towards the voice directed at him. He read Khurgee’s apprehensive yearnings accurately, a warm and content smile creeping towards his shell-shocked expressions.

“Proceed with launch Vice Admiral. Good hunting.” Khurgee’s anxieties fainted to a determined grin.

The Battle for Mechis III had begun, with Cryonics Industries 1st Fleet taking the first confirmed casualty. Survey team in small ferries rigs swarmed from the belly of the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Blaze<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, churning through the debris of the wounded dreadnoght, making futile attempts to preserve what life had escaped the initial assault.

3rd Legion had begun to trade a volley of counter fire with the opposing thrustship, the two dreadnoghts positioning themselves alongside the port flank of the Imperial Star Destroyer <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Judicator<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->. Using the deadly pinpoint precision of their class II turbolasers, the dreadnoghts focused a distracting barrage of fire alongside the thrustship’s keel, causing the ship’s crew to align the energy dampener’s focusing coils to reinforcement the section’s shield array.

The <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Judicator<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, using it’s six massive class I turbolasers, concentrated fire on two of the thrustship’s main battery arrays, pummeling it’s dampening systems to slag. The two class I ion cannons carried in array of the Imperial Star Destroyer focused it’s barrage in synchronized efforts with the dreadnoghts, forcing the enemy vessel’s energy dampeners to overload and short out in a brilliant, luminous ball of fused matter. The explosion caused the keel of the ship’s hull to cave in under the atmospheric vacuum releasing thousands of square pounds of oxygen and hydrogen into the explosion causing a larger collateral detonation of the vaporized gasses.

The thrustship began to swerve into in an uncontrolled fashion, losing its life support systems, its gravitational relay projectors, and started to tilt and spiral from its axis.

The <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Judicator<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->’s, six massive class I turbolasers continued their onslaught, the barrage of lances of energy melting into the two main battery arrays, causing several miniscule explosions along their armored hull plating.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> She’s listing... her gravitational relay projectors must be shot...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> The <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Blaze<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> had completed a starboard 90 degree yaw away from the conflict between 3rd Legion and the enemy thrustship. Approaching at a sublight velocity of 3.2, the monstrosity of a command ship began a slow yet determined pull away from the hostile zone, in a headlong rush for deep space.

1st Centurion had begun a slow and heavy pace to stay in formation with 1st Phalanx, the two Reign Star Destroyers taking port and starboard flanks of their smaller, Abolisher interdiction pickets. Together as a mobile unit, the collected task force swerved away into the neutral zone.

“Alright gent’s, lets see how little work we have to do here,” murmured the captain onboard the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Bellicose’<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> command bridge. His hands clasped in an authoritative gesture, he arose from his chair, pacing the catwalk extending through the four various departments on the command technical infrastructure. “Dispatch, launch fighter screen. Use our anti-star craft fighters to punch a hole through their capital defensive screens. Add an interceptor group to launch ahead and scramble any incoming mini’s”

Using the superior firepower of the famed and infamous B-wing, the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Bellicose<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> took advantage of the fighter’s offensive capabilities and placed them at the front line of the initial counter strike. Immediately, the two deadly taskforces were jockeying their forces into position for the impending confrontation. With the use of Cryonics Industries’ A-wing squadrons, the Bellicose was to make firm their victory in destroying any comparable enemy fighter squadrons that may have launched from the bellows of the thrustships.

It was all typical offensive protocol. At the same moment, the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Peremptory<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> and her stalwart crew were taking similar measures to prep their resources into action. The destroyer’s captain had launched a similar fighter screen against the oppressors.

“Helm, raise dampening systems. Bring our sublight vector to match a course to target’s port flank side.” Already, the bridge crew assigned to tactical Gunnery department had acquired target resonance zones for scattering fire across the enemy’s bow. “Gunnery, plod a solution for all available portside ballistic tubes. Standby to fire at my command.” The captain of the Peremptory glanced at chronometer, calculating the ETA to target. “We’ll pull alongside the @#%$ and deliver a barrage of all stock ballistics, afterwards, our intercepting squadrons can mop up the thrustship’s superstructure.”

Both taskforces dispatched their accompanying dreadnoghts to the aft formation, ensuring that the star craft would not receive the threshold of the assault. With less than 2 minutes remaining in between the heated forces, the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Bellicose<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> taskforce steered against the enemies starboard flank, the {I]Peremptory[/i] blazing a vector taking their force against the port flank. If the maneuver succeeded, they could box the enemy thrustships against Mechis III surface.