"Well said, Admiral Woods." Marin Faulker said as he rose, and made his way to the center of the room.

"I suppose the time has come to solidify our plans. It was not my intention to leave any of you in the dark, but due to the sensitive nature of our plans it is imperative that our orders are not compromised.

"Admiral Kre'fey, you and Admiral Ko'vic are to collaborate for a mission of utmost importance. Though we have an extensive training program for our ground forces as well as special forces, our Navy has yet to be developed to its potential.

"I ask that under your command Admiral Kre'fey, the Alliance establish a Naval Academy. I'll leave the details to your collective expertise, as I trust your judgement. When you've found a suitable planet with which to establish an Academy, let me know."

"If I might add, sir." Vance Taesch said, as he stood from his seated position. "Our budget has been adjusted to allow for whatever measures Admirals Kre'fey and Ko'vic see fit. The establishment of a Naval Academy for the Alliance is perhaps our largest military undertaking to date. We have seen to it, that you will receive all you require to succeed." The statesman said, before nodding and returning to his seat.

"Thank you, Mr. Taesch." Marin said, as he continued. "You will be responsible for the overseeing of this project, from the location and building of the Academy, to the training of its students."

Marin Faulker paused a moment before loosely pointing at Garen Racto who sat a few rows back. Just as Marin began to speak he stopped himself, preferring to speak with Mr. Racto in private - later.

"Mr. <i>Sha'tek</i>. I believe you'll be pleased to find that soon you'll have all the trouble you can handle."

"And more." The voice of Paunch interjected.

"And.. more." Marin agreed, as he turned to face Paunch. "Keep him busy, just as I'll see to it that you stay busy. Of course, in your line of work, I won't exactly be sure what you're up to." Marin reached down to a dossier and walked over to where Paunch was sitting, as he extended the dossier to the seated man. "Just remember what team you play for." He said as he let go of the confidential document which was meant for Paunch, and only Paunch.

An operation had been in the works for what seemed like years, which would give Paunch and his men a sturdy foothold on the topsy-turvy Galaxy. A development that would no doubt please the man known only as "Paunch", as well as those that shared his disposition.

"Mr. Taesch is already aware of what his assignment is, but to shed some light on his job, he'll be meeting with several governments in the near future. His office has already received overwhelming support for our cause, and his objective will be to enlist support for the Alliance to Restore the Republic. That alone makes all our jobs easier, more funding, more troops, more planets with which to scatter our forces and draw resources."

"Should Vance Taesch ever call on any of you for support, I suggest you follow his orders as if I were issuing them myself. Although - with less attitude please." Marin said, as the huddled mass of soldiers laughed simultaneously.

The soldiers, politicians, and roughnecks of the Alliance to Restore the Republic had their orders. Soon, they would be executing them throughout the Galaxy at large.

Sha’tek gave a quick stern look at the command of this organization. A final once over of the beings that will be ‘commanding’ him. Small and weak, but they had resolve if nothing more. Maybe there was something they had hidden he couldn’t tell? Not likely, but battle would tell.

They thought to wage this war openly on even ground, with no ways to get weapons to any who would seek to join in this Rebellion? That was their weakness then, not his. Not Paunch’s. If the rest of this rebellion collapses and dies, Sha’tek was confident at least his branch would still be intact if for no other reason than the strength to do what must be done.

“So be it.” Sha’tek said flatly, as he slithered towards the door. He didn’t care for any closing statements or deliberations, for he had what he needed. With a slight scratching sound, the doors to the command chamber opened and the Shusugaunti warrior made his way out.

Already in his mind, gears were turning. He thought of new ways and methods to kill things that would elicit fear from these Imperials. It was now not just to kill them, but to terrify their command of the consequences of resistance were. He would not admit himself a member of this movement openly. No, that much was implied at this meeting that they had politics they sought to defend.

A group of ‘caring liberators’ wouldn’t hire a Warrior to slaughter families. They wouldn’t send a being who would feast on a human’s corpse. They couldn’t willingly unleash something like that whose agenda coincided with their own. No, that would be madness. Madness indeed…

"...I ask that under your command Admiral Kre'fey, the Alliance establish a Naval Academy. I'll leave the details to your collective expertise, as I trust your judgement. When you've found a suitable planet with which to establish an Academy, let me know..."

The Bothan nodded, his fur rippling like oceanic waves. He shifted on his heels. A Naval Academy. Not glorious. Not detrimental to our foes. Not quite what I expected, but I suppose it will be essential to our continued success and for any chance of galactic freedom. And it offers another thing. Power, perhaps. Power to influence the doctorine of the navy and how we fight. His dark lip briefly twitched. I might end up enjoying this. Taesch stepped forward and began to talk.

"If I might add, sir. Our budget has been adjusted to allow for whatever measures Admirals Kre'fey and Ko'vic see fit. The establishment of a Naval Academy for the Alliance is perhaps our largest military undertaking to date. We have seen to it, that you will receive all you require to succeed."

Funding is important. But here lies the question. To absorb an existing academy for quicker operational time and a cheaper cost, or to build a new one for better secrecy and security. The two qualities that Ko'vic will have to weigh on the scales of wisdom. It won't be an easy choice.

"Thank you, Mr. Taesch," stated Marin said, "You will be responsible for the overseeing of this project, from the location and building of the Academy, to the training of its students."

Kre'fey merely nodded. "Yes sir."

The Admiral nodded.

Ko’Vic agreed that this would be a good first step and would go a long way to establishing a trust between himself and the other Bothan Admiral whom, he assumed in due course, he would likely be collaborating with in the future.

Jamison seemed reserved which was natural for the military man but all the same his silence spoke more then he had. Long had he sought to undermine the Empire at its very core and finally he was being given the chance to wage an open war against the hostile regime.

The two would invariably be sequestered for some time, their attention focused on the task at hand. Jamison would have the hardest go of it, his family half way across the stars hiding in plain sight waiting for the dawning of the new day and the return of their father, the husband, returned to their door stoop.

Matko remembered those feelings but for him it was a simpler task to subdue them behind his growing desire to usurp Regent, indeed diminish the glowing reputation of Simon Kaine. He longed to bring liberation to his brothers and imagined that Kre'fay likely had similar ambitions.

Rather then voice his support or consent the stone-faced Bothan simply nodded in resolute agreement for himself and his friend. Jamison too matched his partner but unlike the Bothan who dreamed of the far off victory, his mind was already going about the arduous task of contemplating the sheer logistics of such a move. He showed nothing of it, however.

With a nod to his peer, Kre'Fey, Ko'Vic was already making plans to depart and to disassemble the impromptu head quarters.

"What the hell," Paunch winked and accepted the package with a good natured smirk. "Sounds like we're about ready to get to work."

He made no further mention nor issue of, as observed by Faulker, the work for which he had been hired but would have wagered that given the appearance and disposition of his companion in crime, there was little doubt among any of them as to what, exactly, that was. Regardless, contained within the package would be the directives that would set him along the same course as that being plied by the more above-board aspects of the Alliance. Certainly they would be kept appraised of his activities whether directly or through the general media channels. The work he and his people would be doing... it would generate notice.

The package already tucked away within the folds of his jacket, Paunch was looking towards the door and counting the seconds. It did not pay to be tardy in his line of work and, if he estimated things correctly, the meeting was due to wind down just on que.

Which was good for him because as a private contractor it meant that he could get back to over-seeing his other investments and interests while similarly moving ahead with this new offer.

Men like him, they wore many names. Mercenary, Terrorist. But whatever you chose to call them the facts remained the same; these were men whose alegance was always to themselves and to the dollar. When properly coerced they could become heroes and masters of enterprise.

For now and the foreseeable future it would be both profitable and assuring to continue to see that his interests coincided with those of the Alliance to Restore the Republic... and would continue to run parallel in the years to come.

Paunch winked at his comrade, Sha'tek, and said, "Let's blow this popsicle stand."

And both men took a grim satisfaction in the unease worn on the faces of those present at his dark sense of humor.

The meeting was over; everyone was leaving; silence reigned supreme. Garen Racto stood slowly to his feet, giving the room one final sweep. He walked slowly toward the front of the meeting area, approaching a computer console at which Marin Faulker was standing, looking over something. He stood there, a few meters from Marin, still and silent, waiting patiently.

After a few moments, Marin stirred from his work, apparently catching Garen out of the corner of his eye, and turned to face the cyborg. Garen moved forward reluctantly, stretching out his hand, and finally, almost painfully, he opened his mouth and said: "I believe you have something for me."

Marin gave Garen an odd little look, something an annoyed adult might give to a child who hadn't yet learned to speak properly. Then he nodded silently and took out a data chip from his pocket, handing it to Garen. Garen inserted it into a slot in his cybernetic implant, and after several seconds of staring blankly at the wall, a glazed look covering his face, he removed the chip and handed it back to Marin.

He stared at the rebel for several seconds, at the soldier who would ultimately be responsible for virtually all of the violence that this rebellion was about to bring to the galaxy. For a moment, Garen faltered, unsure if he could help bring about such destruction. Then he remembered the choice had made, the oath he had taken, and he was ready. "Expect to hear from me within the week."

Garen Racto turned stiffly and walked through the nearby door, soon to be on his way back to his sick brother. He glanced at his chronometer, making sure he had time to get back before anyone but his brother knew he was gone.

This was it: the act of rebellion. The Empire's understanding of "communication" was about to change forever.