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Book one is the Build up of how it Begins, Book two is Full Conflict, Book Three is Earth Strikes Back. This is Book One Tarkins Fist

"Why not. The old US had been trying to Americanize the world for the last century. It's either the devil we know or we serve as slaves for the Empire."

"If you have to put it like that, we Egyptians would welcome inclusion into the new government. As the world knows we are the world's oldest civilization and welcome a chance to forge a new planetary world order."

This is a ten person POV story, from slaves to stormies to Fleet Admirals, so let me get each character introduced and then the real action can begin. And please feel free to leave a review
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It is a time of great strife for the Galaxy, Ten years have passed since the days of the Republic. The Jedi have been wiped out after the clone wars, and the few survivors live their lives on the run. The Imperial Navy still reels from it's decimation of its officer corps by the Emperor. The newly appointed Grand Moff Tarkin knows it will be another decade before his battle station sees completion, while Darth Vader travels the Galaxy hunting down reports of a new rebellion. Thousands of Sectors now fall under the dominion of Palpatine. Political prisoners of every species flood the dockyards surrounding the Death Star, as Tarkin contemplates how to defend his new weapon from the Emperor himself.

Yes I Know I don't own Star Wars, George Lucas does, but Thank you Mr Lucas for letting me play in your Universe from time to time


Central Drafting Bay-LQ Flagship Havelon, Equatorial Orbit of planet Despayre, Horuz System, Atrivus Sector

Millions of workers were stretched out across the Horuz system, surrounding him in their effort to fulfill his vision. There were few beings in the galaxy that wielded his level of power, and yet he craved more. His soul felt the need to find ways for him to seize that power. Unfortunately the means to that end seemed fraught with setbacks and disappointment. New and secret efforts that only he had dreamed of were in motion, but it was his battle station's construction that had taken up such a monstrous portion of his life and energy. But Wilhuff Tarkin was a man with plenty of energy to spare

Ten years spent in secret Imperial construction sites spread across the Outer Rim were starting to wear on him like a dozen lifetimes, and he was beginning to believe it could be another ten years before his indestructable battle station was operational. It had been just over a decade since the Separatist's plans had passed into his hands, so that they could be crafted into a reality. A tiny part of him burned at the thought of the time wasted when he had discovered that the blueprints had been his friend, Raith Seiner's, all along. His anger rose when the memory of the two of them presenting the plans to Supreme Chancellor Palpatine all those years ago returned to his wandering mind. When the Emperor moves he moves in mysterious ways the Grand Moff reminded himself in order to cool his raising ire. The station was his now, and when it was complete he wasn't losing it again.

Below him dozens of engineers and designers worked quietly at their stations, every now and then looking up at him before quickly averting his gaze. Weeks ago a drafting error that had left two focusing lasers out of alignment had necessitated the redesign of over one hundred and forty decks of his battle station. Many of the Imperial Engineers who had been here days before had paid for that mistake with their lives. When the Emperor had heard of the delay he had sent no less a personage than Grand Vizier Sate Pestage to personally oversee the executions of the last of his Geonosion designers left over from the days of Poggle the Lesser

Grand Vizier, Tarkin inwardly mused, fancy name for chief toady. From his observation deck's giant transpiristeel viewport he could look out upon the largest construction yard ever built in the galaxy, since perhaps the possible construction of the Corellian sector by the mysterious Celestials. Thousands of starships converged on this corner of the Horuz sector with the single purpose of creating the most fearful weapon the Galaxy had ever known. The Emperor however, was growing more and more concerned with the site's security, though Tarkin failed to see how most of the Empire didn't already know about its construction. There wasn't even a credible threat since the end of the Clone Wars as far as he could tell. Maybe the Ssi-rukk or the Chiss Ascendancy, threats the Galaxy at large didn't even know of, yet, but his battle station would put an end to those emerging dangers as well. Discussion of other threats amused him; the Emperor's rhetoric of an emerging rebellion was nonsense as far as he could tell, though the growing number of sabotage incidents on his construction yard was a ongoing concern. As such he had twenty Star Destroyers on station at the moment, since they had recently completed phase two of the battle station's construction and its brand new reactor was still exposed to the open vacuum of space. A cataclysmic disaster waiting to happen, he told himself.

Tarkin sneered as he observed the necessary evil of two white uniformed ISB personnel, who chatted quietly as they moved between the drafting tables below. The Grand Moff regarded them as a male Rancor would regard another bull that had entered his territory, competition or dinner.

Their presence had spread thoughout the Imperial Fleet in the past few years like a virus. Tarkin had been so entranced in the first few stages of his pet construction endeavor that he never noticed until one of their Majors handed him his cup of caf one morning and started spouting on about how the Tarkin Doctrine had changed his life. The man's off-white uniform had the same cut as the Fleet's blacks and greys, but it was the way the man carried himself and approached Tarkin that had set him apart. As if it was an everyday occurrence to chat up a Grand Moff, it shocked him even further when he discovered that they weren't even under his command, but answered to others on Imperial Center instead. A troubling thought indeed as Tarkin remembered just how few allies he had left on the capital.

In the years following the end of the Clone Wars he had feared that Palpatine would somehow install his own form of Order 66 for his battle station and the Internal Security Bureau had been that fear come to life as far as Tarkin could decipher. Thankfully his position had allowed him to choose all of the commanders on board what was more and more being called the Death Star. He had quickly seized upon the appointment of Lieutenant Colonel Wollf Yularen as head of ISB on the battlestation. Yularen had served as an admiral in the Republic Fleet ten years ago. Not only had the man fought alongside of the Grand Moff and owed him own life at least twice, but he was also extremely malleable to Tarkin's wishes, a trait that endeared the officer even more to the Grand Moff.

Tarkin was not a man without his own plans however, and his mood improved as he remembered that some of those plans were in motion and entering the system at this very moment. A low chime rang on his chromo and he turned around to face the drafting deck once more. A hundred designers avoided his gaze as he left his observation station above them and entered the corridor outside. As he made his way to his own quarters he passed dozens of viewports. His mind was so concentrated on his own schedules that he barely noticed the hundreds of construction spacecraft orbiting his wonderous creation outside.

Four Imperial stormtroopers were standing guard outside of his executive suites, and snapped to attention as they noted his approach. He crisply returned the salute their sergeant gave him as he passed through the white armored troopers.

His personal suite had several various sections including a well stocked library, spacious quarters, and one of the best stocked gallies in the fleet. But it was the presence of two brown suited intelligence officers, armed with Blastech E-10s and stationed outside his conference room that showed where his guest was lurking. The men had the look of trained killers to them, and sized the Grand Moff up for any hidden weapons as he approached. The bodyguards averted their eyes as the doors to the room slid open to reveal their master, Armand Isard.

The Director of Imperial Intelligence was dressed in a brown Admiral's uniform that as far as Tarkin knew was only worn by him. In a way it put him much more at ease than the ISB's white. Isard pretended to be studying a piece of Ghormanian artwork the Grand Moff had collected during his earlier service to the Emperor.

"A beautiful piece of art, my friend. Almost as stunning as your other special work I've seen outside this very starship." Isard observed, as he cheerfully greeted Tarkin. Armand seemed to love small talk, which he used to extract information out of the unsuspecting. It was an old trick that Tarkin had no time for, and was well aware of from their earlier dealings. He gestured for the Intelligence Director to take a seat as he walked around the cold, gray, circular conference table.

"Yes, the Emperor has gone to great strides to insure the functionality of this battle station, but it was I who set the aesthetic of its design to not only be a work of art, as you said, but to be a work of fear." Tarkin said with great pride.
"Yes, the Tarkin Doctrine," Isard took a seat across from the Grand Moff. "I have been seeing it take hold more and more throughout the fleet as well as back home on Coruca…Imperial Center." Isard caught himself. They were both of a generation that would probably always have trouble not remembering the Empire's former name for its capital, but if they both wanted to keep their current levels of standing within that Empire, they would do well to remember it when not behind closed doors. "I was recently at a dinner party there, one your wife attended. She thoroughly terrified the other spouses that were present."

"The woman has terrified me on more than one occasion," it was the closest he would come to humor, "but it is good that she is keeping busy while I have been away." Tarkin's mind flitted to other ways he had been keeping busy, and thoughts of Captain Daala appeared and disappeared just as quickly. This meeting was of dire importance, and it wouldn't pay to be distracted.

"And who is spreading the doctrine throughout the fleet?"

"Our bullying boys in the white suits, and I'm not talking about the Stormtrooper Corps." Isard answered with much concern.

"Ah yes, The ISB's even here on my construction site."

"I heard about Pestage's visit. Took care of the Geonosions did he?"

"He did, but he left almost five thousand of those ISB troopers scattered amongst the crews of my construction and security vessels. The Tarkin Doctrine was not supposed to be aimed at the fleet itself, but at the Empire's enemies."

"I know, they're even encroaching on my territory. Lord Vader has them doing interrogations in his fleet, the Vader's Fist, instead of my intelligence agents, and I'm sure it won't be long before that policy is military wide."

"The Dark Lord has always been a harbinger of things to come with Palpatine also, I'm afraid." Tarkin mused.

"I remember just yesterday most of my resources were directed at tracking down the last of the Jedi for what they did to us during the Clone Wars, but now it seems the Emperor is seeing rebels and traitors everywhere, and Imperial Intelligence wasn't set up for that."

"That must be the Emperor's reasoning for the ISB." Tarkin was careful to not point out the other man's failings within his own department. "Speaking of rebels, I am positive that someone knows of the location of this site once again. Sabotaging activities have increased over the past months."

"I will double our efforts here. If this site falls, so will a lot of heads." Isard conceded with a lot of concern. Perhaps knowing his head would be one of the first on the chopping block.

"Indeed." Tarkin was tired of fearing Palpatine. "But we are not here to discuss security in the Horuz are we?" He redirected to the real reason he had called for this meeting.

"Is this room completely secured?" Isard knew both of their men had swept it for bugs several times before the two men had met.

"Absolutely. Tell me of the progress of Tarkin's Fist."

"Four of the ten sector fleets you designated have been completely secured for our efforts."

"My efforts. Let us not forget whose reputation is truly on the line with this plan."

"Yes, I couldn't agree more." Isard was obviously more than happy to distance himself from Tarkin's scheme in case it went south. "I would have liked a fifth, but that seemed like a tremendous amount of starships, and most of the Admirals would have nothing to do with the plan when my agents felt out their loyalties. Especially after the purge of the Navy at the end of the war."

"You have done exceedingly well. When I contacted you I had the highest hopes for perhaps three, but would have gone ahead with two."

"By the way how many fleets do you control in the Oversector Outer? I have men serving aboard twenty-seven of them under your banner."

"I have that many attack fleets, but the service fleets they protect bring the numbers to thirty five." Tarkin lied, knowing the Intelligence Director probably knew his true numbers better than him.

"So why these fleets? Most of them seem to be older ones with very different commanders."

"I have my reasons. Do you have a list of the four fleets which have been purged of the ISB's stain?"
Isard handed him a datapad which Tarkin punched in a code only the two of them knew. Isard asked, "When will you be implementing this action?"

"It's already in motion; Admiral Yos's fleet should be entering the outer part of this system within the hour."
"Well away from the construction site?"

"Yes, but I'm sure that their presence won't go undetected by the starships here."

"Easy enough to cover for though, being Grand Moff and all."

"Indeed, these other three fleets will be contacted quickly enough. I will have them all present here in the system within the week or I will know the answer why."

"That's a lot of warships for one system."

"They won't be here long."

"I still don't know where you're sending them." The look on Tarkin's face told him he wasn't going to find out either.

"I want to thank you for all your efforts on my behalf, Director." Tarkin rose from his chair signaling an end to the meeting. He grabbed the datapad from the table. Isard's eyes narrowed for a brief second at the action.

"I believe it will be a success, not one that can bear fruit for many years though if I'm not mistaken." Isard let the Grand Moff guide him to the door.

"I truly belief that as well, but once the Death Star is complete most of our scheming will be for naught anyways."
The doors to the conference room slid open and the guards outside snapped to attention. Isard turned to him for one last inquiry. "Then why do this, Wilhuff?"

"Because I can, Armand." Tarkin replied with all his arrogance. Isard gave him a slight understanding nod and parted company, trailed by his two Intelligence troopers. Tarkin turned to his executive suite and unbuttoned the neck of his uniform. He poured himself a glass of Corellian Chardai wine and slowly walked to the nearest viewport. All the while contemplating the wheels he had put in motion. Secrecy he was sure of, even the ISB hadn't caught a whiff of his doings yet. Speed would be essential for guaranteeing that, but there was still a lot that could go wrong. So many unknowns that Tarkin still had to work out. By force of will alone, Tarkin would raise his place in this galaxy once again.
For a brief moment Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin stared out of the nearby tranpiristeel viewport into the abyss and wondered if it was staring back.

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Command Bridge, Imperial II-class Star Destroyer Quill outer Horuz System, Atrivus Sector

The Admiral always felt like there should be a little lurch forward whenever he dropped out of hyperspace, instead there was always the nothingness of realspace that greeted him every time he returned to it. This was his first time in the Horuz System, mainly due to the fact that access to it had been restricted for several years now. Except for delivering prisoners to the planet Despayre's camps, he couldn't see why any proper Imperial officer would want to come here in the first place.

His fleet was starting to drop out of hyperspace all around the Quill and he could see several of the bridge crew stir in activity as they tried to make contact with their comrades aboard the other warships. Forty-two starships made up the largest fleet Admiral Yos had ever commanded in any one place. Despite the fact that they had been his to command for the past decade naval doctrine had called for most of the assault ships to remain scattered across the Subterrel Sector for the length of his command. When secret orders from the Grand Moff had arrived Yos had relished the chance to gather his fleet and set sail with all hands.

It was a grand fleet, Yos thought, even though he burned at the fact that nobody was promoting him yet again. He had served in the Republic Navy and then in the Imperial Navy for almost fifty standard years and had only been a flag rank for the past ten, since the end of the war. Now though, with this many starships under his command in one place he was sure Grand Moff Tarkin would promote him to Fleet Admiral, or Sector Admiral when they met, or perhaps even Grand Admiral if there was such a rumored rank. He smiled at the possibilities.

Abeo Yos had started out life as the second born son of a naval captain from the upper levels of Denon's society, and was sent to the Republic Naval College at Anaxes where he had graduated in the top part of his class and earned himself a slot in flight school. He had dreamed of flying the galaxy's top fighter craft, but had spent his first years of service flying a transport. It had been a boring station; his only duty had been flying a well-connected Munn around from Naboo to Tatooine to Coruscant and back again, month after month. Still a lieutenant he had served under Senator Ranulph Tarkin's fleet in the Stark Hyperspace Conflict and had almost been sucked into a black hole for his troubles, but he received a commander's rank that he held almost to the Clone Wars. He then had served under Admiral Doodana in his so-called Victory Fleet and was promoted to Captain after the defeat of the Seperatist's Bulwark Fleet. During the purges that had swept the Imperial Navy after the war, Moff Tarkin had personally promoted him to the rank of Admiral, and then stuck him in the furthest reaches of the Oversector Outer in charge of sector security in the backwater Subterrel. He had been there for over ten years now.

Not that it had been a hardship post, most of the officer's in his fleet had families in the sector and he had been able to keep his ten year old daughter close by since her mother's death in childbirth. The oddness of Tarkin's orders to gather the fleet and report to the Horuz, was that the Grand Moff had called for the fleet to bring their military dependants along for extended deployment. Several transports in Yos's fleet were packed with the families and belongings of his crew. Yos hoped there wasn't some sort of diabolical scheme afoot or that Tarkin was planning some kind of black mail or ransom type of action against him or his fleet.

His own daughter, Phasma had been logged into the crew since she was four years of age as an Imperial cadet. By the time she graduated from the Imperial Naval Academy she would have almost fifteen years of service to the Emperor under her belt. Cadet Yos was the pride of the Admiral's eye and the crew of the Quill knew it. She was treated as an officer wherever she went on board and had some of the finest military tutors in the fleet serving to insure Phasma received the best education the Empire had to offer. Phasma herself stood quietly next to the helmsman, glancing towards her father every few minutes for approval. Her instructors had been teaching her astral-navigation and had reported to the Admiral that she was so gifted at it that one day she probably wouldn't even need a nav computer. He beamed with pride at his daughter's achievements and thought that she would probably make flag rank before she was out of her twenties. He nodded his approval the next time she glanced his way.

"All starships have dropped out of hyperspace along their assigned vectors." A sensor technician reported.

"Admiral, all transponder codes have come on line and the ships are reporting in as we speak." The deck officer stated while he stood over the communications station of the bridge listening to the two technicians there as they signaled their counterparts aboard the remainder of the fleet.

"Very good, report when they've all checked in."

"Aye, aye, sir, we will have it momentarily."

"Have we heard from the Death Star yet?"

"We are getting inquiries right now sir, they are checking our transponder codes." The deck officer replied.

"Admiral, three Victory class Star Destroyers are breaking away from the fleet surrounding the battle station and moving towards us." The sensor technician reported.

"They're stating that we are to maintain this position, Admiral."

"Order the fleet to do so. All stop." he ordered the helmsman, and wondered again why he thought they shouldn't feel a lurch when the starship came to rest.

"All vessels have reported in, Admiral, and the three VSD's are maintaining their position between us and the construction site." One of the subspace radiomen reported.

"Admiral, the Havelon is hailing us." The other Signal Interception radioman said.

"Send the message to the bridge holovid." The bridge lit up in a blue glow as a major in an Imperial naval uniform appeared standing only a foot tall.

"Admiral Yos," the hologram snapped, "you are to report to Grand Moff Tarkin on board the Havelon as soon as possible. We are sending you the coordinates now." Yos looked to his signalmen who both signaled they were receiving the transmission.

"My fleet is still reporting in, so I won't be able to depart for another standard hour. Will those ships let my starship pass?"

"You are to take a shuttle, you may however have a fighter escort, but at this time no capital starships are to approach the battle station."

"Copy that, tell the Grand Moff I will be there in about two hours then, especially if I have to take a shuttle the whole way."

"Confirmed, Admiral, Havelon out." The little blue major cut the link and disappeared. Yos looked at his daughter who gave him a reassuring smile, and he took a deep breath wondering what the next day would bring him and his crews.

"Ready my shuttle, I am heading for the Alpha hanger. Captain, you have the bridge." He stood and moved towards the door of the bridge. The deck officer screamed for attention and the crew snapped to as he left the room, while Captain Nake took his place overlooking the bridge.

A flight officer followed quickly in the Admiral's footsteps. "Sir your shuttle has already been prepped for launch and Mynock flight is already on station outside waiting to escort you in."

"Excellent, we'll be early for our meeting then. Have my aides meet me on board the shuttle in five minutes."

"They are on their way, sir." The man looked concerned.

"Anything else, Lieutenant?"

"Sir, it's just odd that they're making us launch this far out is all." They entered the sprawling hanger, and Yos noted the ground crew moving away from his shuttle as they finished prepping its flight. One of the TIE fighter racks was also empty from Mynock's departure.

"If I was Tarkin I wouldn't want anyone getting within firing distance of that thing either. He must not be too concerned of fighter craft damaging it though."

"They'll probably be too small to even scratch that thing once it's done." The three Victory class Star Destroyers outside really didn't concern him. His own fleet contained one of them also. As well as two Venators, five Acclamators, three Imperial I-class SDs and his pride and joy the Quill one of the first Imperial II-class SDs out of the driveyards around Kuat a year ago. If that wasn't enough he also had a fully operational Cardan I Spacestation in his command and another twenty starships of the line. If he had to, he could go toe to toe with the Grand Moff, at least in this system. Not that he was hoping it would come to that. He would see what Tarkin had in mind for him before he did anything rash.

The flight officer took his place at the controls as they entered the shuttle and made contact with the Quill's flight control. His two aides ran aboard thirty seconds later as the ramp closed behind them in a fog of released steam. Yos motioned for them to sit and the two junior officers took out their datapads and prepped for the Admiral's meeting with Tarkin. Yos thought again of why the Grand Moff would have called for him, and decided it was be a special mission or promotion for years of service to the Empire. He dismissed thoughts of treachery from his old friend.
Yos did feel a lurch as the Shuttle left the ground of the hanger and swept through the bay's force fields. Finally in his long line of service something was feeling right in the universe.

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Death Star Approach, 9600 km from planet Despayre, Horuz System

First Lieutenant Timus Roblin thought his flight leader was scum. From what he had been able to discern from the rest of the squadron, the feeling was pretty widespread. To make it worse Major Vertitas was from the same part of Corellia as Roblin was. A few days ago he had tried to strike up a friendly conversation about it with his superior, only to be rebuffed and assigned more flight simulator duty for slacking off while on duty. When Timus had tried to explain that he wasn't even on duty, Vertitas had reprimanded him, by saying that an Imperial Officer was always on duty and docked him a week's pay. Roblin had learned through the ship's grape vine afterwards that it never paid to get in Vertitas's crosshairs, supposedly scuttlebutt was that sometime in his early career the Major had shot up some of his own men who hadn't been showing the proper Imperial Spirit in a dogfight.

His squadron leader was somewhere to his nine o'clock with half of Mynock flight while Roblin led the other half of the Admiral's escort. He pondered, for the hundredth time since their take off, why they had launched from the outer part of the system. It made for a long trip. He couldn't even switch to a short-wave tactical channel on the comm as Major Vertitas had stated that it was against flight protocols when on escort duty. Instead they flew along in mostly silence, receiving and acknowledging flight corrections from Death Star flight control. On most missions where the Major was absent the pilots would switch over to talk amongst themselves. They would use each others names, ranks, or even personal call signs the flyers had nick named each other. When the squadron leader was there it was a bantha of a different color, they were ordered instead to use the call letter designations the Empire used to depersonalize every pilot and remind them they were just small expendable parts in a greater machine. His designation over the radio was QI2-3-2, while Vertitas was QI2-3-1; it got very confusing during battle.

Not that they had seen much action for awhile. The galaxy as a whole had been pretty quiet since the close of the Clone Wars. Some of the separatist planets had refused to surrender and had gone down swinging, others had slithered off and hid, while some like Kashyyk had been invaded for reasons that only beings higher up than Roblin knew. Roblin's baptism to fire was near N'zoth when the Empire conquered the Yevetha a few years back, but since then he had been assigned to Admiral Yos's fleet in the Subterrel Sector. A TIE pilot protecting underground miners was a waste of talent Timus thought to himself.

"Mynock flight Beta, change heading three hundred fifty nine degrees, you are drifting off course. Over." The Major broke through the silence.

"Copy that QI2-3-1, over." Timus could see by his flight computer that none of the six fighters in his command had strayed an inch, but the Major liked to remind everyone who was in charge.

"Stay on present course, Mynock Flight." Death Star Flight Control interrupted, and Roblin grinned with satisfaction inside his pitch black helmet. His squadron commander didn't even bother to acknowledge. Roblin imagined him stewing with his anger inside his cockpit.

Roblin ran his gloved hands over the controls of his TIE/In Starfighter. It was a big improvement over the V-wing Starfighter and the T.I.E. Starfighter that he had flown earlier in his service. Faster and more agile with SFS P-s4 twin ion engines and state of the art SFS P-w401 ion maneuvering jets that enabled her to fly rings around every other snubfighter that he knew of. She was armed with two L-s1 laser cannons that could tear up anything the TIE might come across in vacuum or in an atmosphere. Her only drawback was a lack of any shielding, a hyperdrive, or on long missions like this one, a lack of a refresher. The First Lieutenant had learned long ago not to drink anything before a mission. He gazed out of his view screen, momentarily looking at the head's up display, or HUD, in his helmet for the location of each of his fighters. Holographic data inside the helmet showed him the location of every craft within a hundred kilometers, as well as the condition of his own fighter and the projected flight path of the squadron's mission. Everything was as it should have been, but a pilot who only trusted his instruments didn't last long in the Imperial Navy.

Every TIE Pilot had been the cream of their respective classes at the four Imperial Naval Academies, and as such each knew his place in the formation. He would have been surprised if it had been different, but every once in a while you would get a show boater or kid who thought he was already an ace that you had to reign in. Timus rocked his craft back and forth so that he could get a visual past his solar arrays at the fighters next to his. Each blue fighter was maintaining their slow course as they guarded the Admiral's shuttle. Roblin had heard there were plans to change the color scheme to white or perhaps grey one of these days, if you asked him they would have looked astral in a blood red scheme, but nobody ever asked him.

A few thousand kilometers back the flight had begun to pass freighter after freighter lining up for their approaches to the construction site. It reminded him of skyway traffic on Coruscant, except with much bigger spacecraft. A few Star Destroyers patrolled the lanes, training their main batteries on one cargo hauler after another as they moved down the line. The freighters and cargo haulers would wait for days or even weeks in the long lines to unload their holds of raw material, before making their way back to a nearby asteroid field to load up and do it all over again. A miserable existence for a pilot Roblin thought, as he flew through lines of hundreds of the big fat ugly craft. Every now and then he would glimpse other flights of TIE fighters moving through the crowds of transports on their own patrols. The Death Star herself stood like a small moon in the distance above the planet Desparye.

The flight flew over a long line of ore haulers when one of them suddenly lurched to starboard. The strange movement caught the pilot's eye and he checked for the ship's transponder, when the craft went against protocol and turned it off. That's definitely odd behavior he thought split seconds before alarm bell went off in his mind. "QI2-3-1, this is QI2-3-2. What is your read on that . . ." before he could finish his inquiry the port side of the ore hauler opened up to reveal row upon row of weapon systems. "Fierfek."

The side of the starship erupted as it fired off thousands of rockets and missiles at once. Roblin's flight was already passing over the ship's central axis when it erupted and he was the closest being to witness the missiles race towards their intended target, the openly exposed reactor of the Death Star. Smaller air-to-air missiles raced ahead of slower concussion and cruise missiles. His flight computer started identifying them faster than his naked eye, even with his advanced HUD. There was HM-7, MG7-A, and T-33 proton torpedoes, 32-F Intruder missiles, proton rockets to destroy shields; even RTY-3 energy torpedoes and discord missiles were present in the swarm. Just about every weapon manufacturer in the galaxy had one of their products shot out of that thing.

"Attention all Commands, protect the battle station. I repeat protect the battle station!" Flight control yelled over their commo.

"Roblin engage! Engage!" Vertitas yelled over the squadron's net, ignoring proper communication protocols. It was what the TIE Pilot wanted to hear, as he shoved his flight stick forward and accelerated ahead of his own flight. He didn't need to check his HUD to know his wing mates were right behind him. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Mynock flight Alpha racing in on his position. The Admiral would have to look elsewhere for an escort.

Several AS-DB anti-starfighter missiles peeled away from the pack and headed towards his flight. He noticed them as they were silhouetted against the explosive destruction of an ore hauler situated nearest to the one launching the attack. Fast concussion missiles were going to plow a path though the starships of the Horuz all the way to the reactor. Roblin caught two of the missiles with blasts from his cannons and a third passed so close to his own craft as to leave a burn mark across the upper part of his left solar array. He saw on his HUD one of his flight disappear as one of the missiles atomized a squad mate's starfighter.

Suddenly it seemed as every turret in the fleet was firing at them as his flight of TIEs caught up to the weapons. Several slow moving CL-3 cluster bombs burst in front of Mynock alpha flight followed a second later by the fiery deaths of two of Vertitas's flight. Roblin unluckily checked the transponders to see if one of them had been the hated Major, as he lined up a kill shot on an ancient cruise missile that must have not been shot off during the Clone War. Roblin blinked as the missile burst in a flash of fuel and explosives.

Nearby a Lancer–class frigate erupted after its captain placed it in the path of over thirty missiles. Ahead of him an old Victory Star Destroyer was catching hell after a devastator torpedo took out its bridge section. The three surviving members of his flight were starting to have luck of their own and were also downing missiles left and right. Mynock flight alpha broke off its attack, and Roblin barely registered orders from the Major and some type of argument coming over his comset. He didn't know what was going on, just that there were missiles ahead of him that needed to die. He could see that his panelmen were with him and other flights of TIE fighters were racing to the scene from his HUD. He didn't know if they would get here in time, but he was determined to kill as many of the projectiles as he personally could.
Just as the thought occurred to him a discord missile burst open in front of him. He yanked his throttle as hard as he could as a swarm of buzz droids flew underneath his fighter. Suddenly one of his panelmen was screaming in his ears. Dozens of small buzz droids were on the other pilot's craft. Before Roblin could react one of the droids used its drill head to burst the pilot's cockpit. Roblin hoped the male survived the explosive decompression, but he knew the odds were against him. Once again he checked his HUD to see his remaining panelmen's location. One of them had ducked behind the other to blast off a few buzz droids that the other panelman had picked up.

His flight computer chirped an alarm and he glanced at it for a split second. Half of the original missiles had been destroyed by either his flight or the turrets of the surrounding fleet. But it was the presence of resonance torpedoes amongst the stampeding herd of weapons that was setting off the new alarm chimes. Those babies can destroy stars Roblin feared. This was do or die, if one of them struck the reactor there wouldn't be anything left of this system, let alone his little TIE fighter.

The fleet started pouring on its fire and missile after missile burst from the onslaught. The lieutenant looped the flight around a large Type-II Heavy Lifter that was already half destroyed by the chaos of the attack. A random shot tore through one of the four resonance torpedoes and Roblin was relieved he was still there. Evidently if you destroy them before they detonated you got to live to tell the tale. Three more to go he thought and poured on the ions as he raced after the others. The main battery of a nearby Star Destroyer caught his panelman with the pointblank blast of six of its main turrets. Roblin felt a twinge of anger at his friend's senseless death. He dove on one of the resonance torpedoes and stitched it open with his laser cannons. A flight of V-19 Torrents threw themselves on one of the last resonance weapons and a suicidal ramming by one of the pilots ended its flight. It was just down to about a hundred missiles and already three Star Destroyers had thrown themselves into their path, but if that last resonance made contact with any of their hulls that would spell an end to the Death Star as well.

Roblin vowed that would never happen. He lost sight of the torpedo as it ducked under a large transport and construction rig. He banked his snubfighter over the top of the craft to get a jump on the weapon when it came out from underneath. Wookiee-shaped figures in vacuum suits and armed with welding torches and other tools ducked down as his fighter passed mere meters from their heads. His face changed to horror as he came across the top of the constructio transport and turned hisfoghter's nose downwards. In front of him was a huge void filled with durasteel beams and cables that stretched all the way to the Death Star. He saw the resonance torpedo pass from under the construction craft and knew there was no way he was going to be able to blast it. He simply couldn't turn his fighter away in time before he slammed into a mass of cables and wires arresting his TIE in midflight. He slammed into the durasteel web with a gut-wrenching halt. The crash webbing inside his cockpit tore his shoulders out of socket and his head smashed forward into the TIE fighter's viewport. His right solar array snapped off the crumpled fighter and continued somersaulting ahead of him. It seemed as if the shock of impacting his head made his perception of time as the array actually seemed to be moving in slow motion towards the speedy missile.

"And then that kriffing happened." Roblin said to no one in particular.

The array hit the missile squarely in its flank completely bisecting it. There was a small explosion as the weapon's fuel cooked off.

His viewport started to make a loud cracking noise, and he heard his surviving panelman calling for search and rescue to come and retrieve him. He knew he could only survive for a short while in vacuum before his life support systems failed. Shock and pain were already starting to shoot throughout his body.
"By the Force, I hope they hurry." He whispered before blacking out.

Conference Room 12, Central Drafting Bay, LQ Flagship Havelon

Admiral Yos watched as the stormtroopers patted down his aides outside of Tarkin's conference room. The bay behind him was filled with the activities of hundreds of Imperial architects and designers lost in the difficulty of their work. The presence of his advanced rank barely registered with them as he had crossed the bay; evidently they were used to having even higher ranks than his around. The stormtrooper first sergeant motioned for him to come forward and undergo his own search. Yos set his jaw and tried to stare down the trooper, but the senior NCO only paused for a minute and waved another trooper forward to search the Admiral. He thought of asking for the man's service number, before he realized that they probably searched everyone below the rank of Moff before they saw Tarkin. Someday, he told himself, the powers that be would recognize his service and reward him.

The trooper waved him and his two lieutenants through into Tarkin's inner sanctum. Several other aides waited in plush chairs in the outer waiting area while an Imperial Naval Steward served them caf, evidently Yos wouldn't be the only worthy attending this meeting. Yos tried to recognize their masters from their dress, though several of them were in uniform and others seemed to be dressed as either scientists or a Moff's servants. His quick study of them revealed nothing, and he signaled his own men to join them. They were good men and they both gestured that they would find out what they could from their counterparts. Yos moved towards Tarkin's executive meeting room and was waved through by a pair of naval troopers.

Three other men started to rise from their seats as he entered, but quickly returned as they noticed who he was. It was another sign of undeserved disrespect that the Empire showed him. The man nearest to him as he moved around the table wore the brown uniform of Imperial Intelligence, while the man across from him wore an officer's dress uniform with the rank insignia of a Moff. No wonder none of them had risen when he entered, if Tarkin wasn't there he had assumed he would have been the highest ranking man. Yos mentally checked himself and prepared to accept whatever destiny and Tarkin had in store for him and his fleet. The last man in the room wore the robes of one of Palpatine's advisors, but covered them with the lab coat of some sort of biologist or doctor. He seemed to be a man traveling between two worlds, and if he also wasn't sporting the insignia of a Moff as well, Yos probably wouldn't have taken any more note of the man.

The Admiral took the empty seat that had evidently been left for him and studied his new companions more closely. The Moff with the scientific bent studied his datapad and ignored the rest of them, while the Moff in uniform met his eyes and tried to stare him down. Yos had been through this test hundreds of times before in his years of service and barely felt the threat from the Imperial Governor. The younger intelligence officer just studied the other men and actually tried to offer the Admiral a friendly smile. Yos just returned it with an acknowledging nod. It slowly dawned on him that none of the men gathered here had any idea why they had been called together. He also realized with a frown that none of them were being served caf either.

The doors slid open and every man rose as the Grand Moff made his entrance. Tarkin didn't meet anyone's gaze as he made his way to the command chair at the head of the table. Yos hadn't seen the Grand Moff in over a year but it was evident that the stress of building the battle station had taken its toll. The Grand Moff appeared to have aged several years since the Admiral had last reported to him. Yos felt a certain affinity towards the man, not just because they were roughly the same age, but it had been Tarkin who had plucked him from obscurity and given him his Admiral's squares. Tarkin motioned for them to take their seats as he engaged a control panel near his seat. A hologram of an unknown sector sprang to life in the middle of the circular conference table.

Yos leaned in for a closer look as did the young intelligence officer. Yos checked the man and could tell he knew what he was looking at. It was a strange area of space, full of asteroids and what appeared to be several comets, but it's most striking feature had to be the abundance of black holes located haphazardly throughout it. The Admiral couldn't imagine ever living there, let alone try to navigate the thing, but as he studied it closer he noticed the presence of a small base located in the very center of the thing and what appeared to be four Star Destroyers.

"Gentlemen, I give you the maw." Tarkin announced as if issuing an imperial decree.

"Seems a bit of a mess, Tarkin," The uniformed Moff replied, "My own Ploo Sector is much more orderly.

"You are correct, Moff Seco," Yos noted the name, "but your Ploo Sector is also filled with other things. There are ISB things there that shouldn't know about the maw."

"Excuse me, sir," The young officer cut in, "but maybe some introductions are in order before you lay out your plans." Yos couldn't agree more as he felt his sense of curiosity growing inside him. Evidently the junior officer knew more of Tarkin's schemes than he did.

"Indeed, Gentlemen you are the command personnel of Tarkin's Fist."

"Tarkin's Fist?" Seco asked in confusion. "What is that?"

"That is the name of our little enterprise. As some of you know Lord Vader has so named his own fleet Vader's Fist so I thought that title appropriate for our enterprise."

Yos interrupted, "So you're forming a fleet, Tarkin, to go against Vader's perhaps. It wouldn't be a bad idea to take out that crazy mystic."

"Perhaps, but that is exactly what I'm proposing, Aveo." Tarkin was one of the few who could get away with addressing him with his first name. "Within a decade's time this battle station will be the most powerful force in the universe. The Emperor is concocting this idea of an emerging rebellion which will give us the perfect opportunity to show the Galaxy at large just what this battle station can accomplish."

"The rebels are nothing more than a bunch of separatist remnants left over from the Clone War and other scum from what I'm hearing of them." Yos put in.

"Quite right, and after their defeat we shall turn this station on our real enemies on Imperial Center." Each man's face turned grim at Tarkin's suggestion of treason. "But there in lies our problem. Once this station is complete its superlaser can only fire once every twenty-four hours."

"Just how powerful is the superlaser, sir? I mean can it take out a Duro Space Station or something like that?" The intelligence officer asked.

"Tests are showing that it could make a star go nova, but we're pretty sure the superlaser can crack most planets wide open." The scientist Moff started a coughing fit at the Grand Moff's declaration. "The problem lies in when the laser is recharging. The battle station is vulnerable to large scale attack from enemy battle squadrons. I'm proposing the creation of a secret large scale fleet that would serve as this station's guardian in case there ever arose the need to mount a defense."

"Am I to understand that the Emperor is unaware of this plan?" Moff Seco interjected.

"Certain aspects of it certainly. Commander Yutu," Tarkin gestured to the intelligence officer, "would you care to explain."

"Yes, sir." The officer stood and pointed to the holovid. "We know the Emperor knows of the maw installation, as this is where we stored the prototype for the Death Star. Also the Emperor approved the presence of the research team currently inhabiting the installation under the direct command of Grand Moff Tarkin. We also know that Palpatine has also expressed concerns about the station's defenses. Our own intelligence sources have shown that the Emperor has laid down several plans for the Imperial Navy to provide security in these situations."

"The Emperor has also started a large scale fleet size initiative. Both Rothana and KDY are currently working at maximum output. He has expressed a desire to increase fleet sizes to about twenty-four hundred vessels per sector. A full attack squadron as well as hundreds of frigates, fleet tenders, and support craft will be assigned to each sector's Moffs and Admirals."

Yos let out a small whistle of appreciation. "That's several times larger than anything we've had since the end of the war."
"It won't be all overnight, but it does give us a certain opportunity."

"That would be?" Seco again.

"It's an opportunity for your squadrons to disappear into the maw. It is no secret that you men owe more allegiance to me than the Empire, no matter your current place in it. ISB's presence has been scrubbed from the starships in your three fleets, thanks to the efforts of Commander Yutu and Armand Isard of Imperial Intelligence, so none of those bootlickers should be able to report your loss to Imperial Center. So gentlemen if push came to shove, whose side will you stand on?" Yos didn't know about the others, but he knew that Tarkin had a tremendous hand in helping him rise through the ranks. Yos had never played the Imperial politics game and it had only been with the help of men like Tarkin that he was where he was today. He needed to let Tarkin know he recognized that fact.

"I agree, I owe nothing to Palpatine, I remember the purges after the Clone Wars, and I remember the faces of many a friend that disappeared into them. The Emperor cannot be allowed to stop this battle station once it is complete. "Tarkin," he turned to the Grand Moff, "I volunteer myself and my fleet to lead Tarkin's Fist." The other three men shook their heads in agreement.

"Excellent, you are hereby promoted to Fleet Admiral and are given all operational control of the fleet. Moff Seco and Moff Culter's squadrons as well as one other fleet shall be placed under your command." Yos noticed Moff Seco squirm in his seat, but yet the other Moff, did Tarkin say his name was Culter, just shrugged his shoulders and accepted the decision. "Moff Seco, you are to be given control of all security and ground forces within the maw, while Moff Culter here will be given the job of cleaning up the maw."

"Cleaning the maw?" It was the first time Yos heard the man speak.

Tarkin turned to the other three men. "Moff Culter here was appointed by Palpatine himself for his pioneering work in the field of terraforming. He's made habitable over twenty planets before the Emperor forgot all about him and sent him into obscurity in the Anoat Sector. What I want from you Culter is to use all your equipment and engineers and gather the debris in the maw together to form a small habitable planetoid for the maw installation to be stationed on. I'm also giving you command of a large slave army that I'm sending with the fleet."

"Cleaning those asteroids up will give my ships more room to operate and train."

"Precisely, Captain Daala tells me she's barely had any room to maneuver her four star destroyers already in place at the installation." So the rumors were true, Yos thought. Tarkin had raised a female officer to the rank of Captain and given her the command of a small squadron of her own; it gave him hope for his daughter's chances within the Empire's service.

"Is this to be a hardship post?" he asked.

"Not at all, at this moment the families of hundreds of your crewmen are arriving onboard their ships. One of the first missions for Culter will be to create living and educational quarters for your dependents." Tarkin explained.
"A potential service academy perhaps?" Yos asked hopefully, there was no telling how long an assignment this would be.
"Yes, exactly, I would like to form a certain utopian Tarkin society within the maw itself. Moff Seco's and Moff Culter's fleets will arrive along with the fourth squadron over the course of the next week and take up position alongside yours in the outer part of the Horuz. Culter's fleet is equipped with hundreds of laboratories and research ships. KDY is sending a fourth fleet that will be filled with many more research vessels. These will be used to develop new technologies that will enable your fleet to engage enemy squadrons many times its size."

"How are we to get inside the maw, it is the maw anomaly near the Kessel System right?" Seco asked.

"That is correct, spacers and navigators have been avoiding the maw for millennia, but we found a secret way in several years back and were able to set up the Maw Installation for Imperial Research inside of it. Commander Yutu here will act as pilot for the whole fleet as he has been inside the maw several times since its construction."

"One pilot for an entire fleet, he'll be a busy man for the next few years." Yos spoke his concern.

"Not if your entire fleet is slave rigged." The sense of shock hit the Admiral like a sledgehammer.

"Slave rigged? That hasn't been attempted since the Katana Fleet disaster in the Old Republic days." The thought of surrendering control of all the starships in his command to a computer program sent shivers down his spine. Slave rigging was the act of connecting several starships' nav computers so that they followed a master vessel's course, and in theory thousands of vessels could travel through hyperspace and end up in the same location at the end of their journey. Unfortunately, this had usually ended up in disaster every time it had been attempted. Hive viruses had wiped out the Katana Fleet and over two hundred dreadnaughts had disappeared without a trace, other fleets had plunged into stars or smashed through asteroid fields with massive loss of life.

"Raith Seiner and I have designed a new advanced model of the traditional slave rig. We have absolute faith that you shall arrive safely in the center of the maw."

"Has it ever been tested?" Seco asked, it was good to see that Yos wasn't the only man concerned with this detail in their travel plans.

Yutu broke in, "We used it to get Darla's fleet inside, and it work perfectly fine. The fleet from KDY will also be testing the device during their voyage to the Horuz."

"My concern is Fleet Admiral Yos's fleet will be considerably larger, and with a large force of possibly diseased slaves attached to it, it leads to a multitude of new problems that could arise." Seco tried to stare down the young officer.

"Regardless of your concerns, I assure you it is perfectly safe, as well as I assure you that I am ordering you to undertake this mission. I will be having meetings with each of you over the course of the next week to work out the details of your missions." Tarkin made it clear that he wasn't one to have his orders questioned. "Especially you, Yos, there are several mission orientated details I want to go over with you. Yutu you will be assigned as the fleet's Chief Intelligence Officer as soon as you deliver Tarkin's Fist to the maw. You will be reporting to both Moff Seco and Fleet Admiral Yos."

"Yes, sir!" Yos thought he would be able to get along with the spy just fine; it was Seco he was worried about. He couldn't imagine the Governor enjoyed reporting to a military commander.

"Gentlemen, you are dismissed, Culter, may I have a word with you after this?"

"Yes, Grand Moff. Of course." The Anoat Governor answered.

"Then the rest of you have much work to do. My office shall be in touch with each of you. We have a tremendous amount of details to see to before your fleet launches in a week. We shall all meet as a group in two standard days." All five of the men rose and the HoloVid disappeared in a blink of the eye. Yos hoped that his new fleet wouldn't do the same once they turned on the slave rig.
------------------------------------------
Hanger Bay 3, LQ Flagship Havelon, Geosynchronous orbit, Planet Despayre


Kauntus Kuat was not a man who stood for a lot of pomp and ceremony. He usually found comfort in schedules and timetables, and left most other nonsense for aides and public relations personnel to handle for him. So it was with a small amount of annoyance that Kuat found his arrival being greeted by dozens of Imperial Naval Troopers standing at attention, while a military band played the Kuat System's Anthem as he strolled down the ramp of his shuttle. Grand Moff Tarkin greeted him at the base of it. The Grand Moff was flanked by a pair of stormtroopers, but instead of being intimidated by the men, Kuat started looking for flaws in their armor's design. He found it to be lacking compared to the old Phase II armor of the Clone Wars. It was obvious to his trained eye that the Emperor's designers had cut a few corners in order to save a credit or two.

"Greetings, Moff Kuat, I hope your trip was a success." Tarkin, much like Kuat, preferred to skip the small talk and get directly to the subject at hand.

"Yes, our experiment was a success, every one of the two hundred and ninety starships of the Kuati Third Fleet were able to travel by slave rig from the Kuat system to the Horuz system in less than sixteen hours from start to finish.

"Excellent." Both men turned and walked between the uniformed ranks of troopers. Tarkin had sold him on his idea for a super research station years ago. Kuat had at first doubted that they could ever hide it from the prying eyes of the Emperor, but Tarkin had brought him around "How long after implementing the program until the Fleet jumped?"

"We downloaded the program into Kuat's Might's nav computer four hours before the slave rig took entire control of the fleet and made its hyperspace jump. It was actually quite exciting waiting for the jump. My bridge crew started a pool on when the fleet would enter hyperspace."

The Grand Moff smirked at Kuat as they walked along. "How'd you do?"

"I was off by twenty minutes, but the ship's helmsman nailed the time right on the nose."

"Good man, I would have wagered on the ship's navigator or quartermaster myself, how'd the Captain do?" They left the hanger and entered a long hallway with transpiristeel viewports. Several mouse droids scurried past as a couple of enlisted sailors snapped to attention at the sudden appearance of the Grand Moff and his guest. Tarkin ignored them as he passed, whereas Kuat had always felt he needed to know every man on his team. It was a strange attitude for a Kuati to have, because there never seemed a moment when they weren't always mindful of class and social status above all else. Kauntus had learned long ago that what a man thought mattered more than who sired him.

"He did admirably, only three hours off. Have you heard any news from KDY, we have been under a complete communications blackout since the incident?" The incident he referred to was his death.

"Yes, the HoloNews has been full of it, I'm afraid your stock values may be taking a dive in the next quarter."

"That's acceptable. Palpatine has ordered enough new contracts through KDY and Rothana that we should bounce back quite quickly. I have prepared Kuat for this since we overthrew my sister and you presented us with your proposition. I think he will enjoy his new title too, I always did."

"Kuat of Kuat does have a nice ring to it. He made an excellent speech a few hours ago. Seemed really upset at your death and the destruction of Kuat's Third Fleet, but promised to usher in a whole new era for KDY or some other such nonsense."
"Astral, I wrote that speech for him. I would very much like to have a HoloVid copy of it, if you've made one." They made their way into a very large drafting bay. Kuat had heard of the Havelon's facilities. They were legendary throughout the Imperial Fleet, but were barely a scratch on what KDY had back in the Kuat Sector. Several of the starships in his own fleet had been assembled with engineering and drafting bays that would have dwarfed this one. "I will transmit one immediately, this is our central drafting bay where we are designing the details of the Emperor's new battle station."

"It's very nice." Kuat tried to act more impressed than he was. He had spent most of his life in college, laboratories, and research departments and was used to these types of facilities.

They made their way through the engineers and their drafting stations. Tarkin stopped to show him one thing or another as if he was a youngling trying to impress his favorite teacher. Kuat feigned interest time after time, but hid his true disdain for this so-called Death Star project, the thing was designed to put KDY out of business. If the Empire ever worked out its flaws it would make every capital starship in the Galaxy obsolete. As a result KDY and the project had distanced themselves from each other, until Tarkin contacted Kuantus all those years ago with an entirely different proposal.

Kuantus had never been comfortable being the Kuat of Kuat; he had let his sister Onara terrorize him into letting her lead his beloved Kuati, while he had disappeared into the driveyards of his home world. He had placed his stamp and personal touch on every Republic starship that had served in the Clone Wars and was recognized as one of the greatest starship designers in Galactic history. When Tarkin had approached him and his son with a plan that would carry KDY into the next millennia as well as dispose of his hated sister, both Kuats had jumped at the chance. While his son had handled the political maneuverings of the plan the elder Kuat had gathered the finest minds of the galaxy. His son had overthrown the government which up until that time had been largely matriarchal and installed his father, with the understanding that he would be the Kuat of Kuat after his father's passing. With the ending of the Clone Wars thousands of separatist scientists from every field had been let loose upon the galaxy, and Kuantus had gathered most of them up. With funds Tarkin had siphoned off of the Death Star he had been able to buy most of them with paychecks they would have never attained elsewhere in the private sector.

Palpatine had been able to draw hundreds of new COMPNOR recruits into the Department of Imperial Research, but Kuat had drawn off the best educators at every Imperial Academy. When his fleet had arrived in the Horuz he had almost fifty thousand of the galaxy's finest minds on board and happily working for him. Tarkin estimated that they would exceed the rest of the galaxy in technological prowess by five years for every year they were in the maw. The new research and development project was named Vision of Kuat of VK for short. It consisted of the top designers of major corporations such as Santhe/Siener Technologies, Sorosuub, Rothana, KDY, TaggeCo, Rendili StarDrive, Corellian Engineering Corporation to Koensayr to name a few, as well as smaller corporations such as MandalMotors, Trilon Inc, Arakyd Industries, Blastech, Athakam MedTech, Crozo, CoMar, Chedak Communications, Merr-Sonn, Zaltin Bacta, to even miniscule ones such as Theed Engineering and Czerka Arms. Every field and industry imaginable had the very best scientists on his payroll. The people of the maw would be the most technologically advanced of all time.

They finally approached the stairs to Tarkin's observation platform and ascended them. "So how was my demise?"

"It was a thing of beauty and a hundred percent believable for all who witnessed it. I have already seen the ISB's and Imperial Intelligence's reports on the incident and it should be enough to convince Palpatine."

"How'd it look on the HoloNews."

"Also convincing, how did you achieve the explosive effects."

"While the HoloCams were watching the spacetests of the Interdictor Star Destroyer Immobile we waited patiently for the slave rig to engage. Then five seconds before the hyperdrive kicked in, every ship dumped debris along with twenty sonic mines set on a six second timer. We never even felt the blast on board our ships."

"From what the HoloNews is reporting there were quite a few casualties amongst the observers and HoloNew's crews that were at the site. I figure all that debris and junk you dumped must have been shot around that system like shrapnel from a thermal detonator."

"Impressive none the less, I feel for the Kuati observers, but it does lead credence to our cover story."

"Exactly, nothing must get in the way of this battle stations completion or the implementation of Tarkin's Fist. Within four days you shall enter the maw under the command of Admiral Yos."

"A good man from Denon correct?"

"Yes, he's served under me for more than a decade. He knows his part in our plans."

"Grand Moff, if everything goes according to those plans in a few years you will be the most powerful force in the Galaxy." Both men turned to face out of the observation viewport. The construction site was lit in its full skeletal glory, with hundreds of craft darting back and forth from one job site to the next.

"Well then," the Grand Moff smirked again, "May the Force be with us."
--------------------------------------
Yard 4, Imperial container ship Chain, 3rd Kuati Fleet battleline, Outer Horuz System

Ashla felt like both sides of a credit sometimes. The Twileki dressed Togruta moved carefully through the crowded corridors trying not to step on one of her fellow slaves or another as she searched for some nook or crawlspace for herself. A small pack on her back contained her last few worldly belongings. She had been a prisoner in the Corporate Sector for five years now, before being transferred along with thousands of other industrial slaves to the Kuat Sector a few days ago.

At least the young Togruta thought they were still in the Kuat Sector. The starship they were on was huge and contained six monstrous holds, each about the size of the arena on Geonosis by the looks of them. Each hold was stacked with containers of food and equipment. Some of them almost reached the walkways above where guards patrolled back and forth to keep an eye on the slaves below. The slaves had been poured into the holds almost as an after thought and each had to find their own place to lie down or in most cases just to sit. To top it off very little light was reaching the bottom of the canyons because of the being-made hills the containers and boxes had created. Ashla was sure it was about every two meters that she would step on somebody, and that was only because her species montrals allowed her to move more carefully in the low light. A few hours ago she had tried to reach the walkways above to see what damage she could have done to a guard or two, maybe search for an escape, but when she had crawled to the uppermost boxes she had found them already crowded with slaves who were stretched out over every inch of them. She gave up on that plan for the night and instead focused on finding a place to rest instead.

She searched the surrounding cliffs of containers and equipment until a tiny black crack between two containers caught her eye and she knew deep down it was empty. The crevice was fourteen containers up and it took her a few minutes to reach it without letting any other watchful slaves see what she was up to. Luckily a few containers over had been broken into and a bunch of Fluggrians were passing out frozen nerf meat to other prisoners. They had all been well fed before being loading on board, but you never knew when you were going to see your next meal on a journey like this. A slow dread was everywhere amongst the imprisoned slaves as many of them contemplated where this mysterious journey might end. As she climbed higher and higher to her hopeful shelter her hunter's ears heard dozens of rumors from the logical, such as the Kessel spice mines or the Kuat Driveyards to the absurd like building superlaser battle stations near Endor or Rancor wrangling on Felucia. Ashla knew one thing to be true though, wherever they ended up it was never any good for the slaves.

Ashla hauled herself up onto a small ledge before the crack and peered in, half expecting to be jumped by a womp rat or two. When the attack never materialized she noted that her new found refuge actually expanded once she squeezed through the opening, and was pleasantly surprised to find she could stretch out a bit and even lay down if she needed to sleep. One of the containers that made up her small room had a corner missing and she was able to stick her head in to look around. It contained uncut beams of plastiod that completely filled the large container. She didn't know what she would be able to trade the stuff for with her fellow slaves, but she was able to pull out one of the beams so that she could at least cover the opening to her shelter.

Before she shut her make-shift door completely she looked out over the being-made canyons of the starship's hold trying to catch a glimpse of some of the slaves she had been with for the past few years or months, the ones she considered to be part of her pack. It felt against her nature to be off on her own, as she had always felt more at ease as a member of the pack, but she had also recognized it as essential for her survival. She sensed that her comrades were still down there or perhaps exploring one of the connected holds, most though were holing up and saving strength for whatever was ahead for all of them. She had been through so many small packs during her years on the run that she terrified that she would never find any sort of permanence in her life. Her latest pack had been some of the lowest members of slave society and Ashla always wondered when one of them would have slit her throat to save their own skin. Once everyone had been crammed onto this monster of a starship she had decided to take her chances on finding a new pack. There were already so many new and unknown faces down there that Ashla felt she wouldn't have to try very hard to find a brand new pack once this journey ended.

After awhile the noises from down below started to quiet down as more and more slaves drifted off to sleep. Mothers laid their younglings down to rest in whatever space they had found and fathers stood guard throughout the evening against other slaves who were out to take whatever little possessions they had. There were a tremendous amount of slave younglings that had no mother or father down there. Orphaned and on their own much like Ashla was. Ashla was used to it though as she hadn't seen her parents since she was two years old on Shili. Her memories of them were of the hunt and moving amongst tall grasses in search of prey with other members of the pack. It was one of her few warm memories that she kept of better times.

Her new domicile wasn't far from the overhead walkways and she could just make out some of the patrolling guard's conversations. She heard some of them talk about how they had dropped out of hyperspace, but were preparing for an even larger jump soon. Another guard was happy his family was on board somewhere, and another was worried about something called a 'Tarkin'. Ashla wondered where they were heading as she listened to the receding voices grow quieter and quieter.

She finally thought she may be safe and silently unloaded her pack and pockets. From hidden pouches in her clothes she pulled tiny pieces of metal and machinery, while from her pack she pulled the remains of her food supply and her most precious possession; an old datapad that she had managed to hide and keep charged all these years on the run and in captivity. She wrangled with her only change of clothes and arranged them in her pack to form a pillow which she laid her back against while placing the datapad across her lap. She activated it and then checked that its glow didn't give away her hiding spot.

She had wished that it had been a holocron so that she could ask it questions like she had been shown when she was a youngling by her former masters. A male Jedi Knight went through the motions of Djem So or the attacking half of Form V of lightsaber dueling. She wished she had more room to stretch out in her small space as she wanted to go through the motions herself. She knew them all by heart as well as the other half of Form V Shien, which was all the information the datapad contained, but what a treasure trove of knowledge for the young Togruta. There were hours and hours of manuals and exercises as well as footage of Jedi dueling in this form at the Jedi temple. Some of the faces she recognized from her time as a youngling there or from her lessons on the history of the Jedi. Now during her life on the run and in captivity the datapad was her connection with that world. It had been given to her on her eleventh birthday by her master a week after he had taken her as his Padawan, and the day she had stopped being a Jedi.

She sat up for a minute and looked at the pieces she had laid out on the floor. Together they made up a real lightsaber, not one of the training sabers she had grown up with. The only problem was that she was missing crystals for it, and until she got one she kept the pieces separate to disguise their identity. She slowly rolled the diatium power cell in her hand and remembered the man who had given it to her. When she thought about it she realized her datapad was a poor substitute
for her master and the life she had to flee.

Near the end of the Clone Wars the Jedi Council was starting to feel its losses in Jedi quite severely. Starting after the First Battle of Geonosis they had even started assigning Padawans instead of letting masters and knights chose their own, and the age limit on padawan learners had dropped from thirteen to twelve and had kept dropping as the war went on. Finally as she had approached her eleventh birthday she had noticed several masters watching her as well as the rest of her class, the Bear Clan. While her classmates had celebrated her birthday she was approached by Jedi Master Agen Kolar who offered her training as his Padawan learner. She couldn't have been happier. As one of the greatest fighters and swordsman of the Jedi, she felt Master Kolar had been the perfect choice to be her teacher. Both of them had recognized a kindred spirit in the other and Agen had submerged her in fight training from the very start. She smiled as he had her attack him as her friends looked on. He had easily defeated her Form I style of lightsaber combat and promised to teach her to a master's level in a new style. Even after ten years of practice she wondered if she was near that level of excellence yet.

The padawan learning had started immediately and she quickly had to say her goodbyes to her classmates. Kolar had shown her the method to build the lightsaber she had now, and had given her several crystals for it. They had given the blade a blue hue. The memory of selling one of them for passage off Coruscant still stung. They had meditated and felt the force together, they had spent hours training her for life within the Force and her eventual position as a commander in the Clone Army, and best of all Master Kolar had promised to begin her training in Form V as soon as possible. She remembered how her muscles ached and how she had barely slept during that time as her master had led her through one intense training session after another. That week had been the happiest one of her life.

She shuddered at the memory of the Knight Skywalker's arrival at the temple. He had come there looking horrified and met with Master Windu in private on the landing pads. Shortly before his arrival Master Kolar was called to aid in a special mission, as he was leaving he had given her the datapad. He told her to stody it and that they would practice as soon as he returned. He had hugged her tightly. He had then climbed aboard Master Windu's LAAT/i along with the other Jedi Masters, Seass Tiin and Kit Fisto and flown away into the crowded skyways of the Coruscant night.
That night was the last time she ever saw him, except on the HoloNews branded as a terrorist, but that was after she had already felt his passing in the Force, and knew that the news had told a lie. After that she had been so concerned with her own escape that the red-skinned girl had barely the time to focus on all that she had lost. It didn't matter how far across the Galaxy she had fled, the grief would always sneak up on her during her quiet moments of reflection.

Inside her dark little hole, Jedi padawan Ashla Ti cried herself to sleep.

Bridge Section, Imperial I- Class SD Insertion, Southern Polar Orbit, Despayre

"Into the nexu's den." Bridge Commander Volt said under his breath as he approached the entrance of the bridge. He quickly scanned himself to make sure his uniform was immaculate before he made his entrance. Everything in its place and a place for everything the newly arrived officer thought to himself.

The bridge crew was busy at their stations down in the crew pit. It irked him that nobody noticed him right away and he cleared his throat loudly for attention. Across the bridge's walkway a Lieutenant Commander turned and spotted him.

"Attention on deck!" the deck officer screamed. The bridge crew stood to attention. Volt folded his arms behind his back and slowly strolled down the central walkway towards the man.

"I am Bridge Commander Volt, and I am newly arrived aboard this vessel, and I demand your utmost respect and service." He approached the officer who had been in charge of the bridge until his arrival. "Next time I enter I assure you if you do not acknowledge me the second I come in your head will roll. Do I make myself clear, Lieutenant Commander?" The man visibly swallowed as the Volt's voice rose.

"Yes, sir." The man's voice shook. It was clear that discipline amongst the crew on this vessel had become lax. Volt was here to change that.

"Where is the Captain?" he asked the nervous deck officer.

"He's debriefing several TIE bomber squadrons who were on a training mission this morning. He should be here shortly."

"Then I shall wait. I have the bridge until he returns." Out of the corner of his eye he caught one of the crewmen in the pit turn his head and then snapped back to attention. Volt turned to the sailor. "Excuse me, crewman," he didn't bother using the man's rank, "Are we boring you?"

"Um, no, sir." The sailor stammered out.

"Then what would cause you to commit dereliction in your duty to show respect to the chain of command?" Where was the fear in these men? They needed to serve a tour with Lord Vader or a round on Imperial Center. They must have grown soft in the Outer Rim with all those filthy non-humans and aliens for company.

"Sorry, sir. It's just that we were monitoring a few Theta-class shuttles that were on approach. They were just hailing us on the subspace . . ."

"Enough prattle, from now on orders from your chain of command supersedes all other duties. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, now contact your replacement. You are relieved of your station until further notice. Dismissed." The sailor looked crushed as he left his station. "As for the rest of you, return to your stations and resume your duties. Lieutenant Commander, come with me." The hustle and activity of the bridge returned as the crew resumed their duties. The Commander had the junior officer follow him over to the bridge's viewport.

Bridge Commander Volt was a fun persona for the spy to play. Tolos Eritech had served as a Major for the Imperial Security Bureau for the past five years, ever since he had graduated from school on Imperial Center. He had uncovered two plots against the Empire involving Separatist survivors from the Clone Wars and had finally been given the chance to go undercover. His superiors in COMPNOR had discovered that Imperial Intelligence had scoured a few fleets of all ISB agents and his boss Ishin-II-Raz , the Director of COMPNOR, wanted to know why. Three other agents that he knew of had also been sent in, but had met with horrible ends at what were possibly Isard's men. Worse, it could have been these so-called rebels that everyone was starting to scream about. He hadn't come across any of them yet, but from what the Emperor was telling everyone they were indeed a dire threat to the Empire.

He was not a man to doubt Palpatine.

Eritech had only been able to secure this posting when a certain Subterrel Fleet had left its station there and shown up close to Tarkin's grand construction site. Another ISB man on the Havelon had reported a bunch of strange visitors to the Grand Moff in the past few days, while A COMPNOR observer to the site had witnessed large quantities of supplies meant for the project disappear into thin air and had wondered aloud to a visiting ISB official about it. Ishin-II-Raz had never trusted either Tarkin or Isard and called on Eritech to investigate. With ISB completely out of the picture on board Admiral Yos's fleet it had been up to Eritech to become his own source of information as Bridge Commander Volt. The only thing he hated about the assignment was that he missed his old white uniform and had to make do with the Navy's grays.

He sidled up alongside the other officer who was starting to regain his composure after meeting the abrupt new Bridge Commander. They both stood at the viewport observing a few large transports from the planet below take up their position within the fleet. He didn't see the Thetas anywhere and figured they must be already underneath the warship's hull near the hanger bay. Otherwise, that crewman had lied to him and he made a mental note to check out the man's service record as soon as possible. "So can you tell me what our ship's orders are?"

"Sir?"

"I mean I was ordered by Imperial Naval Personnel on Imperial Center to report to the Subterrel and I find the fleet's been moved halfway across the OverSector Outer by the time I get there."

"Oh that. Yes, I guess that would have been confusing. We didn't even know you were coming. I imagine Tarkin's got some big plan for us. We were moved on his special orders alone. From what I'm getting from the higher ups I don't think the Emperor even knows we're out here."

"Really?" The false Volt thought it wise not to push the man and just tried to keep him involved in innocent banter and ship's gossip. "So what have they had the crew doing since your arrival in the Horuz? Anything exciting?"

"Oh, yes, sir. We've had one training assignment after another and then we've also been loading up on every supply you can imagine. There are about forty transports for every Star Destroyer in the fleet, and they're all fully loaded with equipment and slaves." A million questions filled the spy's mind, but he didn't want to seem too eager. "Plus we've had a lot of strange duty and personnel transfers in the past month."

"What do you mean?"

"Well first of all they got us rigging up a Slave Rig to both our nav computer and our helm. That's got more than a few sailors and officers nervous."

"Slave Rig? You mean like the one that made the Katana Fleet disappear."

"Same one, though they've been telling us it's gone through several upgrades since then. Nobody below Captain's rank knows where the stang thing is going to take us, though most of the crew doesn't care just so long as they get there, if you know what I mean. The Subterrel was probably one of the most boring posts in the whole Empire so no one's going to miss it much. Anyways they've got us connected to that big Imperial II class over there." He pointed at a large Star Destroyer off their starboard side. He was glad the man did because he could barely tell one warship class from another, let alone pick out an individual starship amongst this fleet. "That's the Quill where Admiral Yos keeps his flag" A slave rig, Eritech pondered every method of sabotage he could think of. The problem was no one had used one in so long and the things usually defeated themselves that he had no idea how to wreck an actual functioning one.

"Well, I'm glad I missed out then. What was it about the assignments that were so odd, Commander?" he started using more respect in his voice in order to get more out of the officer's answers.

"You married, sir? No offense if you're not, but this is the only fleet I've ever heard of that you can bring all your dependants on board with you. Now the Admiral aboard the Quill has had his daughter on board for years, but she's an Imperial Cadet from what I hear. What I mean is your whole family can come along on cruise. They've got two luxury Mon Calamari Transports full of our dependants in the center of the fleet. Then there's the matter of all the reassignments over the past year." Eritech leaned closer in anticipation. "A lot of men who were very pro-Palpatine have disappeared over the past year only to be replaced by men who don't seem to care one way or another about our glorious Emperor."

"How do you feel about him?" The man's eye's narrowed for a fraction of a second and Eritech knew he had lost the man as a source.

"The Emperor is the finest thing that has ever happened to the Galaxy. He delivered us from the chaos of the Old Republic and the catastrophe of the Clone Wars. It would be my most upmost honor to give my life in his service." His speech sounded like it was being read off of a COMPNOR recruiting poster.

"Indeed." The doors to the bridge slid open and in walked an elderly officer who appeared to be a relic of the Stark-Hyperspace War.

"Captain on deck!" The Lieutenant Commander screamed. The crew snapped to and the Captain actually looked momentarily startled by the attention. The senior officer had a shock of grey hair and looked as if he'd have trouble passing his military fitness tests.

"As you were." The crew returned to their stations as the Captain strolled over to Eritech and the deck officer's position. "And who do we have here?"

"Sir! Bridge Commander Volt reporting for duty." He snapped a proper salute.

"Captain Halser, it is an honor to make your acquaintance." He turned his head to the deck officer. "Is this the reason for that little show when I came in?"

"Um, yes, sir, The commander drilled us on proper chain of command etiquette when he arrived."

"Ah, yes," he turned back to Eritech, "We don't stand on a lot of formality aboard the Insertion. I'd rather have the men at their stations lest they miss some tell tale sign of an enemy's approach. It keeps them honed like a razor whenever action is imminent."

"I hadn't looked at it that way before. It is an interesting way to see things, Captain."
The Captain gave him a hugely friendly smile. "Stick with us, son, and you'll learn all sorts of interesting things."

"Indeed."
------------------------------------------------------------------
Admiral's Quarters, Imperial II-Class Star Destroyer Quill, Southern Polar Orbit, Despayre

Cadet Yos thought that First Lieutenant Roblin was astral. He was fit, gorgeous, and had single handedly saved the Death Star. The pilot was a certified Hero of the Empire and sadly he didn't even know she existed. Of course, he had never met her, and a week ago she didn't even know of his existence either, and there was the fact that he was a least a decade older than her, but none of those factors ever crossed Phasma's mind.

She the cruel pangs of jealousy as she sat in her quarters watching the feed from the MedBay's HoloCam. It seemed the handsome TIE Pilot was recovering rather quickly from his combat wounds. She enviously watched as he regaled two young nurses with his tale of heroics from a few days past. Every time she checked in on him his story seemed to grow, which just made him more charming she told herself. She had seen the after action report on the incident at the Death Star and had found the actual story to be just as amazing.

Her father would never approve she told herself, but she wondered if she could try her hand at flying a TIE one of these days. She seemed to remember her father saying he had wanted to be a fighter jock in his younger days. Phasma had trouble imagining the old man in anything besides a captain's chair. She had never known her mother and her father never talked much of her besides the fact that she had died in childbirth. She sometimes got the impression that he hadn't really known her that well, and Phasma had once found in his service records that he had never married the woman. Phasma wondered if she was missing out on some great benefit that her peers had enjoyed.

Ten year old Cadet Yos turned off the feed from the cam before it started to upset her, and signaled for her COMPNOR approved TTS-15 tutorial droid to start its lesson. The silver droid activated its HoloVid once again and returned to its prior lecture on fleet positions during the first and second battles of Kamino. She let the droid drone on, and thought she could probably have taught this lesson to it instead. She realized COMPNOR had installed lessons that taught her to treat aliens and droids as less than ideal, but even on her own she could never get past treating her tutor like it was part of the furniture. To aid matters the thing swiped its own memory every month and as such never developed much of a personality. She never understood why her father had gone to great expense to purchase the thing, since it seemed to only be concerned with turning her into a mindless puppet for Palpatine. His only reason, he had assured her, was that it would help get her ahead in the fleet.

She rose from her desk as the droid meandered on and approached her closet. She answered the droid's test questions absent-mindedly as she rifled through her clothes. The droid acknowledged every answer as correct and she struggled to remember when she had last got one wrong. She decided on wearing her unofficial uniform as she was sure it would be another busy day getting the fleet ready to sail. The regular crew of the Quill knew her, but she found she had troubles getting sailors from other starships to follow her orders when she was wearing anything else. It was frustrating at times, but she wouldn't have an official rank until she graduated from one of the service academies. At least her father had enrolled her in the ship's logs when she was four, so that she would shot through the ranks quickly once she received her commission due to her time already served.

She came across an all white outfit and momentarily thought of wearing it. It was a smaller replica of a Denonian Senator's robes that her father had bought her the previous Empire's Day. She knew she looked good in it and quickly thought of donning it and making a stop in the MedBay before reporting to duty. She thought of the compliments she would get from the dashing Lieutenant, but then it occurred to her that she had nothing clever to say in return. With a sigh she returned the tight fitting outfit to its place in her closet.

She got dressed and made sure her cadet rank of a single gold bar was in its correct place. She had seen an image of Grand Moff Tarkin before and wondered how the weight of his rank badge didn't rip off the front of his uniform. The image of it in her mind made her laugh as she told the tutor to power down in the middle of its lecture. The droid gave her an inquisitive look before acknowledging. She entered the kitchen of her quarters and saw the kitchen droid already cleaning her father's dishes from breakfast. It made sense that he was already gone. She was slightly disappointed as she grabbed a nutritional energy bar for her own breakfast and headed out the door of their quarters and made her way to her duty station. She knew how busy he had become since getting his promotion. She had been so impressed and proud that he had gotten promoted to Fleet Admiral from the Grand Moff himself. Except when duty called her to the bridge she had barely seen her father over the past week. Once all of the four fleets under him had arrived here in this system he spent most of his time coordinating them along with a training program that had called for his fleet to move to the southern polar orbit of Despayre, on the other side of the planet from the Death Star. He'd given her the mind-numbingly dull job of helping other officers loading cargo that was arriving from all over the galaxy. Most of it was marked as going to the Death Star, and it was a little exciting to see how her father and the Grand Moff were subverting it to Tarkin's Fist.

When she wasn't busy with that she recognized her father had thrown her a bone, when he assigned her to help out with planning the training schedule. She had expressed her delight in throwing squadrons of TIE's against each other in mock combat or ordering a brigade of stormtroopers to invade some part or another of the planet below. She had even came up with a training mission where she had ordered Imperial Commandoes under her father's command to infiltrate various prison compounds on the planet below and extricate themselves once again. During every mission she felt sure she was more and more destined to lead troopers of her own in battle one day.

The nature of her father's mission disturbed her some. The Admiral had always assured her that she was destined for high rank within the Empire's Service, but hiding out in the maw from that very Empire seemed to preclude that option. He had assured her when he told her of the plan that she would be educated by the finest professors in the galaxy. Finer even than any that had stayed to teach at the Imperial Academy on Imperial Center. He had told her how Moff Kuat had pulled out all the stops in his recruitment drive of these men, and how the Empire would be left the lesser for it. She wouldn't even be alone during her education. The dependents of the crews of the fleet included thousands of younglings who would be called on to be educated by and then to serve Tarkin's Fist when it became operational over the next few years. She of course was expected to be the top of her class at the school her father was set up. She guessed it would probably be dubbed the Maw Academy or some other name that would be unknown to the rest of the Galaxy.

The young cadet made her way into the central hanger bay of the Quill. Several TIE squadrons were missing from their racks and she assumed they were on station somewhere outside. A stormtrooper platoon was checking its equipment near an old LAAT/i nearby. She had organized a mock engagement with two companies of naval troopers who should be setting up their defense on the planet below. She went to check on the trooper's status and tried to hide the fact that she was secretly rooting for them in the upcoming engagement. They had such astral uniforms, but they seemed to be outnumbered in the fleet. She had seen the numbers and they had been enormous. Tarkin had really done some fancy juggling when he had transferred all these men to the Horuz. Several corps of Imperial Army and Navy Troopers, a legion of Kuati Army Troopers in their own specialized armor, a corps of Imperial Marines, a weird consignment of clone troops under Moff Culter (Which she was sure was a mistake, or someone had forgotten to rename them after the Clone Wars were over.), and three of the Emperor's Stormtrooper Sector Corps made up the ground forces of Tarkin's Fist. That was just the beginning, because by the end of the week they should have the manpower of four Sector Armies at their disposal. It seemed an awful lot, until Phasma contemplated the actual size of the Emperor's forces. She wondered if he would ever notice these trooper's absence. She hoped not, at least not until Tarkin was ready for them.

Her father had also told her of Tarkin's pet Captain Daala, already in command of the maw fleet. It had excited both of them to know that she could find her proper place in the Navy after years of watching COMPNOR's influence frustratingly erode away a female's place in it. Her father had told her this was their chance for Phasma's destiny to never be denied. She listened to the stormtroopers answer her questions and they felt her genuine concern that they were ready for the upcoming practice battle. They didn't see her as a ten year old daughter of a Fleet Admiral, they saw her as an officer that made the right decisions and cared about their welfare.

No, she thought to herself, she wouldn't find her destiny here amongst the stars of the known Galaxy, but she would assuredly find it amongst the black holes and asteroids of the maw. What a life it was going to be she thought to herself.

Maybe she would stop by the MedBay today after all.
-------------------------------------------
Hold G-2, Imperial Prison Ship Manacle, Slashtown Prison Colony, Despayre


"We're finally leaving this kriffing stink hole of a planet." Brakatak said to no one in particular as the crowd of prisoners made their way up the loading ramp at a Hutt's pace. Light from the starship and an overly bright spotlight nearby lit their way as Desperye's sun dipped below the horizon.

"Yeah, but where are they taking us?" Someone asked with complete despair.

Ever the optimist, even after two years of Imperial captivity Brakatak just grinned at the gloomy Rodian who had spoken up. "Odds are it can't be worse than this place." He heard a lot of agreement from his fellow captives as he reached the airlock at the top of the ramp. An Imperial technician escorted by a couple of forcepike-armed army troopers took his name and entered it into a datapad, while another technician disarmed and removed his slave collar. How long would it be before he was fitted for another one Brakatak had no idea?

A snug and hopefully airtight space suit would probably come with it too, he mused. Everyone in the prison camp knew about the big battle station the Empire was building above this world. They had been dragging prisoners up there as long as he had been on this planet, especially the Wookiees. Of course he would have done the same thing if he was building the station. The Furballs couldn't help themselves when it came to building; they probably even did it in their sleep as far as Brakatak could tell. The Wookiees never lasted more than a week in the camps before the Imperials dragged them off to the station high above. Even as friendly as Brakatak was he hadn't ever got a chance to know one, since none of them spoke basic or Gran and he sure as well didn't speak grunting and groaning or whatever it was that they spoke.

The line snaked back and forth for almost a kilometer behind the large native Gran. Brakatak had been in it for almost a day and Despayre's sweltering humidity had been wearing on him for most of it. Over the past few months, more and more prisoners had swelled the prison compounds to a breaking point. A big project must be in the works or the battlestation above must have entered a new phase in its construction that required this new influx of workers, was all Brakatak could figure from the rumor mill of the camps. The guards had been too overworked and several escapes had occurred. He hadn't known any of the escapees personally, but he wished them well. The flora and fauna of Despayre had thousands of different ways of killing the runaways, some of which the three-eyed Gran had seen for himself. There were spiders the size of airspeeders or quick Nexu that pounced suddenly from the under brush to seize and drag their prey back into the jungle. It was a jungle made of plants that were toxic, poisonous, radioactive, or even a few trees and bushes that would eat you alive. No, Brakatak thought, he would take his chances with whatever was waiting for them high above.

Brakatak was a young Gran, only twenty standard years from when he had been calved on Kinyen. He had figured by this time in his life he would have been attending a university or had sailed off into the stars somehow. At least one of those options had occurred he guessed, but given the choice he would have rather been in some boring classroom back home. His career quota, the means by which all Gran found their place in Gran society, had pointed in the direction of either a starship pilot or architect. Both of those had pleased his parents, but it was the piloting job that had fascinated him, and he had poured all his attention into those studies. So much so that he never realized what was happening to his herd until it was too late.

The HoloNews had proclaimed the Great Reunion of the Gran and the Republic after years of isolation just in time to witness its transformation into the Galactic Empire. The Gran had always enjoyed a special privilege in the Galactic Senate in that they represented not only Kinyen but Malastare and Hok as well and as such always had three votes where most species only had their one. The Gran had been arrogant in their return to the Senate and the Senators that had stayed and served throughout the Clone Wars had taken offense. In an act of defiance small herds of Gran had struck back at the Empire. A fleet of Star Destroyers had appeared in orbit around Kinyen one afternoon and taken up station there. No demands were ever given to the Gran. The fleet just opened fire and wiped one of the Gran's larger cities off of the face of Kinyen. It had been Brakatak's home town.

While the Government of Kinyen had rushed to appease its attackers and fall in line with the rest of the Empire, Imperial Stormtroopers had landed and captured any surviving Gran from the blast site. An entire herd of almost sixty families had been enslaved by the end of that dark evening. Brakatak had heard from other prisoners that the official story had been that there hadn't been any survivors, which saddened him again when he knew that they were dead to the rest of Gran society.

Most of the surviving families within in the herd had lost much of their kin in the bombardment that had demolished their lives, and two more years in the camps of Despayre had further shrunk their numbers down to twenty-seven families. Brakatak was actually the smallest family, in that he was the only surviving member, but his family was still counted as part of the herd's total as long as he breathed. As such, many in the herd didn't pay him as much attention as they did their own, and that allowed him to get away from them from time to time and meet other prisoners. Brakatak was almost universally known amongst the other inmates as one of the friendliest and biggest guys in the camp. In fact, this very morning he had been chatting up a couple of Talz and Sullustian prisoners he had just met when he had lost the rest of the herd. He found them way ahead of him in line, but the guards wouldn't let him rejoin them. He had to get to the back of the line again where he found himself with the depressed Rodian for company. The other Gran had just shook their heads at him for losing the herd, and the shame he felt had even quieted him for a while. Not too long though, by mid-day Brakatak had been talking so much that he barely noticed when a few prisoners had excused themselves from his section of the line and returned to the end again. Guards nearby had let them, and even had threatened the big Gran with a forcepike to the rump if he didn't shut his mouth. The threats had only lasted a couple of minutes until Brakatak heard one of the guards mention pod-racing. He had spent the next hour debating with the poor trooper about who had been the greatest driver of all time on the pod-racing circuit, before and after it had become illegal. The other nearby guards just rolled their eyes and tried to ignore the talkative Gran for the rest of the afternoon.

A few hours later his slave collar clanged as it landed in a huge pile of others like it. "You're about as big as a Wookiee aren't ya?" The Imperial Technician that had taken it off his neck asked.

"A little shorter actually, maybe a few grams lighter too." Brakatak smiled at the human trooper. "Pretty big for a Gran though."

"I guess so," the man obviously hadn't dealt with a lot of his kind. Maybe that meant he hadn't been at the bombardment of Kinyen, Brakatak hoped. "Name for the log."

"Brakatak, um, I'm a Gran."

"I know." The man studied his datapad.

"It says here a whole bunch of you checked in a couple of hours ago. You with them?"

"Well, I'd be wearing black if I wasn't." Brakatak thought he was making a very funny Gran joke and laughed. He never noticed the rumblings from those still in line behind him.

"I don't get it." The technician answered strait faced.

"Well you see if a Gran is separated . . ."

"Your group is in hold G-2." The male cut him off. "That's where your quarters will be as well, just follow the markings on the walls and you'll find them."

"Um, astral, but I was going to say," A guard gave him a shove while another gestured in the direction Brakatak was supposed to go. The Kinyen native got the hint and decided the technician probably wasn't worth talking to anyways.
He made his way down crowded passageways that twisted and turned for no apparent reason. It wasn't until he got through the D level holds that he made any sense of the chaos. Prisoners would walk through into their respective holds but force fields wouldn't let them back out into the corridors once they were in. A couple of Squib prisoners tried to trade whatever they could from one of the holds that they had already trapped themselves in. Technicians and black-helmeted troopers would randomly shove slower prisoners into the nearest hold in order to clear the narrow corridors and make some sense of the chaos of the loading procedures. Brakatak told himself to make sure he entered the correct hold or he might never see his herd again, a very frightening thought for a Gran. Several times guards would yell at him to keep moving as he made his way to G hold level, or stopped to ask one of them for directions. Once or twice a guard would try to help, just to be admonished by his peers for his troubles.

Most of the holds had appeared darkly lit as he passed them, so when he stood before the doorway of hold G-2 Brakatak took a moment to make sure he was in the right place. Shadowy figures moved on the other side of the energy field, but he wasn't sure if he knew any of them. Down the corridor moving towards him came two Imperial stormtroopers armed with the dreaded forcepikes. They had a no nonsense look to them as they took down a green Twilek male who had become lost in the maze of holds and had been trying to gather his bearings. The Twilek twitched and flopped around on the ground as the two stormtroopers stepped over his unconscious body. They shoved a slow human female prisoner into hold G-1 as they moved within twenty meters of the big Gran. One of them gripped the setting lever on his pike and moved it to a more powerful setting as he noticed Brakatak's size. They weren't even going to give him a warning.

He turned once more to the door, bracing himself for the hit from the side. Quiet desperation overtook him as he searched for some sign in the darkness of his herd. Suddenly there was movement ten meters in that Brakatak at first thought was a small womp rat. A smaller humanoid chased what Brakatak was starting to discern was a ball of some type, but it was the small humanoid head that finally caught his attention. It had three eyestalks.

He saw a raised forcepike from the corners of his eyes and stepped forward through the shield. A slight static feeling washed over his skin as he was greeted by a brightly lit holding area. A noise behind him made him turn in time to see the tip of the force pike scrape the outside portion if the force field. One of the stormtroopers stood face to face on the other side with the Gran as if daring him to come back into the corridor. The trooper's partner signaled him and he slowly turned and made his way to bully other wayward prisoners. Brakatak reached out and was saddened to find out that he really was trapped as his hand refused to go through the shield once again.

Once more into the void, he told himself.

MAAT/i 4590, Upper Stratosphere, Southern Hemisphere, Despayre

SF-4738 hated zero-g drops. It was made all the worse that someone had cracked one of the rear doors in his MAAT/i. The loss of heat was starting to send shivers through his body glove and he subconsciously moved closer to the other stormtroopers under his command, which had been crammed into the transport along with him.

Lieutenant Mahan had made due with just a breath mask for a few minutes before he had to make his way into the cockpit for warmth. The stormtrooper sergeant listened to his boys gripe on the platoon's comlink channel as the transport shuddered when it hit the upper atmosphere.

"Re-entry in 20 seconds." The pilot's voice cut through their conversations. Funny SF-4738 thought, he couldn't ever remember leaving this cesspool of a planet let alone wanting to re-enter it.

"Weapons' function check." He ordered over the comlink. He would have ordered armor and systems check as well, but anyone without a working set of armor would have frozen to death in the vacuum left by the crack in the door. The crew chief nearby seemed to understand what he was thinking and just shrugged his shoulders. They'd fix it before the next mission they told him, but where did that leave his platoon in the meantime. They'd be pretty beat up by the time the brigade hit dirtside, while the rest of the platoons would be nice and fresh. The sergeant remembered to check his hermetic autoseal and oxygen supply on his HUD inside his helmet to make sure he was doing wizard.

In the red lit compartment stormtroopers went through the function's check of their BlasTech E-11s. He looked each of them over to make sure they were carrying enough power packs and gas recharges. Several of the troopers in the back man-handled an E-Web closer to the port door. Each of those boys carried the smaller E-10 blasters that the Empire was quickly fazing out of service for its questionably more reliable descendent. The sergeant remembered when he enlisted they had given him an old DC-15 blaster rifle from the Clone Wars. That thing had been a thing of beauty. You could submerge it in a lake or drop it in mud and the stang things would keep right on blasting. Not like their stubby replacements the E-11. Sometimes he swore they would jam up when he looked at them funny. Someone in Imperial Research and Development had taken a pay off somewhere along the line, or SF-4738 was a Hutt's uncle.

SF-4738 felt a breeze of hot air for a split second before the craft's blast shields closed up and covered the crack left in the crew door.

"12 minutes to the LZ men." Lieutenant Mahan's voice came back across their comlinks, he wasn't used to hearing the man's voice inside his helmet. He wondered what it had been like to have officers in armor like they did back in the Clone Army. He had just caught the tail end of that. Order 66 had been ordered on the day he enlisted. He had been part of the first batch of non-clones to enter the Imperial Army. In fact the day he signed his enlistment papers they had him resign because the first ones had said the Grand Army of the Republic.

He had laughed when he heard the HoloNews report earlier this year that the Imperial Army wasn't going to use clones anymore and accept only recruits from now on. The reality had been much different for years. All his instructors on Carida had been clones from Kamino and they had been a tough bunch. SF-4738 had no idea how they told each other apart either, but they did, and they hated the bunch of newer clones from Centax-2 that had finished the Clone Wars out for them. It was weird, he thought, he hadn't seen a Kamino clone in about two years. Not since his tour with Vader's fleet.

Darth Vader had carried the 501st Legion with him, and if he remembered right they still had quite a few of those clones. A mixed unit, he recalled, as they had regular troopers just like him as well. He had started out in a mixed platoon of clones and enlisted, but by the time he had received his corporal stripes they had been mostly fazed out of the service.

The lieutenant came out of the cockpit without his breath mask, and the sergeant could hear through the Comtech audicasters inside his helmet the blast doors retracting. Quickly enough he heard the rushing of air escaping through the crack in the door again.

"Crew Chief, open those doors and have the gunners take their positions." The platoon leader barked. Mahan still seemed young, but he wasn't one of those 'I went to the Academy so I'm always right' type of officers. He seemed eager to learn from the sergeant and was genuinely concerned about his men's welfare. COMPNOR must have never got their hooks into him SF-4738 thought.

The doors slid open with a bang and the two stormtrooper gunners took their place at the side guns of the MAAT/i. The inside of the craft was suddenly lit by the waning sun of Despayre as they cruised over its southern ocean.

SF-4738 stood on the lip of the door as he reached up with one hand and held on to the safety hook located on its upper edge. From his vantage point he could tell they weren't the lead transport in the formation. Several dozen other MAAT/i and MAAT/c transports cruised ahead of theirs, while they were being followed by even more. As he looked closer he noticed that the group also consisted of LAAT/i, the old Republic workhorse from the Clone Wars and the first ship he had ever flown in. Several Sentinel Landing Craft and Theta shuttles were in the mix as well as a Theta with a full dorsal wing that seemed to be flying in some sort of over watch position above the whole troop convoy. He found out later it was a prototype for a Lambda class of shuttles. The Empire keeps marching on, he proudly observed.

The Lieutenant kept checking his DH-17 blaster pistol as the sergeant looked on. "Sir, if it works once, it's going to keep on working, probably break down if you mess with it too much. I knew a Twilek girl like that once."

The young officer just grinned at him. He picked up a rucksack full of spare ammo and a large hyperwave comset for contacting the Fleet and adjusted himself for the landing. It was nice to see an officer that was willing to carry his own weight for a change. Somehow there were more and more of them entering his particular legion lately. He had asked his cousin WF-2957 about it once. His cousin had been serving in the 415th legion near Balmorra and said that none of his officers were like that. A bunch of COMPNOR clones he had called them. Strange that his unit would get so many good officers and senior enlisted men then.

"Five minutes to landing." The pilot cut in again. SF-4738 decided to look for his two clowns. HF-3105 and JN-6166 were hiding in the back of the small bay with their backs to the rest of the group. They were both carrying the two halves of a Merr-Son PLX-4K missile tube and all its ammo. As he looked over JN-6166's shoulder he noticed they were staring at a swimsuit clad girl on a SoroSuub Holo Projector. She wore a sash across her body that read Ms Imperial Center.

"Who won this year, boys?" His voice projected across the platoon net and the rest of the stormtroopers in the bay turned to look. The only one who didn't hear was the lieutenant who was once again checking out his blaster, "Was it a Twilek or a Zeltron this time?"

HF-3105 tried to turn off the device and hide it, but JN-6166 didn't even realize he had been caught doing something he shouldn't. "Actually Sarge, you're never going to believe it, but it was a fierfeking human girl this time. She was some piffer from Alderaan. Pretty cute too, just now Thad and I were arguing on just how long it had been since a human contestant won it. It had to have been before either of us was birthed."

"Probably from before my time too, now you two bucketheads get ready we're going to hit dirt in about two minutes."

"Yes, Sarge." They both echoed each other.

"And don't call each other by your real names while you're on duty. Use your service numbers."

"Yes, Sarge."

"Thirty seconds." The pilot chimed in. SF-4738 checked the red indicator light in the cabin and returned to his spot on the doorway. He was determined to always have his boots first on the ground whenever they went into a combat zone. He looked down into the grey murky water below and felt a sudden chill run down his spine. All sorts of monsters made their homes in these waters. Ahead of them a small atoll rose out of the sea and dust from the first craft in the formation was already being stirred up on its barren shores. A dismal sight, no wonder they only shipped prisoners to this planet.
The MAAT/I came in with a scream and SF-4738 was already leaping out of the crew hold went the ready light went blue. His platoon formed a quick perimeter around the craft as the E-Web was man-handled off. SF-4738 noted a LAAT/I disgorge four Aratech 74-Z speeder bikes. The scout troopers raced ahead to take point for the battalion. The lieutenant's comset came alive with reports of enemy positions. The Colonel came on a moment later ordering the stormtroopers to attack.

The enemy entrenchments lay ahead along a low ridge that seemed to be the high ground of the atoll. Two platoons laid down a base of fire on the battle droids that had been set up as an opposing force, while SF-4738's and another platoon drove on the enemy position from the two flanks. Halfway up the ridge SF-4738 noticed something odd about the battle droids. They weren't returning fire. He dropped back a few feet and let Mahan lead the charge. The E-Web chewed up the terrain ahead of them as HF-3105 and JN-6166 brought up the rear with their missile tube.

Cries of disappointment and disgust rose as the unit engaged the battle droids. None of them were working. Most of them
had been blown apart by the attack, but it was obvious to the troopers in the attack as they took the crest that none of the battle droids had functioned. Something had chewed out their mechanical guts since the time they had been set in place the day before. The Colonel was getting the news over the battalion net, and it was clear he was upset that someone had ruined his carefully planned training exercise.

His platoon milled about the position and regaled each other in their own accounts of bravery in the charge. Too bad it had all been for nothing the sergeant grimaced. His whole platoon had done great, but it had been hard to tell who would falter under actual fire.

The Lieutenant finished speaking into his comset. He turned to the men and addressed them. "Alright platoon, Battalion wants everyone to dig in along this ridge. We're staying the night here. The old man is determined to get some sort of training out of you sorry scum."

SF-4738 snapped into action. "You heard the Loot, I want these positions repaired and improved within the hour. Let's get to it." The platoon dug out entrenching shovels and engineering equipment and went to work. Several AT-TE's made their way up to the ridge and took up station behind them as the sun dropped below the horizon.

It was an hour later when a flash of blaster fire near the beach got the whole camps attention. It was quickly followed by the scream of the speeder bikes rushing back into the battalion's entrenchments. An AT-RT turned and spit fire from its repeating blaster towards the shore before leaping over the trench and rejoining the unit.

"Acklays!" One of the scout troopers yelled as he went flying past. SF-4738's skin crawled. Suddenly one of the cannons on a nearby AT-TE opened up as did another platoon's E-Web. He dug out his electrobinoculars and scanned the field ahead for the creatures. At first he didn't see them, but as he lowered his frame of reference his heart leaped in his chest.
Thousands of tiny two foot tall acklays were swarming out of the surf, and heading directly towards him. Tiny versions of their larger cousins, they still retained the hard shell backs that supported their heads filled with dozens of razor sharp teeth. When they reached two hundred meters the whole platoon was ordered to open up on them. Tiny screams crossed the fields as acklay after acklay was vaporized by the combined blastpower of the brigade. SF-4738 took aim and blew the jaw off an Acklay that had raced ahead of the herd. He noted that every other blaster round seemed to bounce right off the tough outer shell of the small creatures. He had never seen an ackley this small, but then again he had never seen this many of them at one time either.

Scouts raced out over the herd blasting them from behind. One lucky creature was able to jump high enough to strike the stabilizer of one of the speederbikes. The trooper crashed into the swarm with a fiery explosion. SF-4738 hoped the man was dead before hit the ground as he saw acklays swarm over the trooper's body.

Several acklays were close enough now to jump into the stormtrooper's trenches. JN-6166 screamed as one of them grabbed a hold of his left leg. The small beast knocked the trooper from his feet and attempted to darg the trooper back into the swarm. HF-3105 quickly blew the monster's brains out.

"Are you shiney?" He asked his wounded friend.

"Yeah, its teeth couldn't pierce my armor; it just felt like a crushing gnawing sort of feeling."

"Look alive you two." SF-4738 barked at his troopers. Though he was relieved to know he wouldn't be torn to shreds by thousands of tiny teeth, he still wondered if they could pierce his armor with one of those six sharp claws each of them stood on. His best solution to the fear of combat was to keep pouring it on and he had to go through several power pack changes before a small wall of ackley bodies started to form before their position. It slowed down the remaining acklays too as they had to climb over the bloody and slippery bodies of their brethren.

A low whine started to whine out of the distance and SF-4738 swore he saw a pair of red landing lights cruising over the ocean several kilometers away. The lights got bigger and he made out the outline of a flight of TIE/sa bombers. As soon as they crossed the shoreline they let loose with their proton bombs. The whole field filled with miniature acklays erupted in flame and SF-4738 was thrown from his feet as the concussive wave struck their position. Dirt from the trench wall seemed to bury him for a second, but lying on his back let him watch as the bombers overflew his location.

He stood up again and observed the smoking sight before him. The few acklays that had actually survived limped back into the waves. He turned to see what damage his platoon had sustained.

"Alright boys, get those pots a' boiling. It looks like we're having crab meat tonight!"
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Flag Deck, Imperial II-class SD Quill, Horuz System

"Security is at its top level. The only perceived leak after the slave rig jump can only come from Tarkin's crew aboard the Havelon." Yutu reported. He stood at the front of the bridge in front of a HoloVid of his presentation. He enjoyed the

Admiral's way of reporting. Early in the morning he would have his chief officers' report to him in an informal meeting. Yutu as the Chief Intelligence went after the Supply and Personnel officers, Commander Charge, but before the Fleet Operations Officer, Commander Dual. Several times the Admirals of the other Moffs' fleets had attended the briefings and even Moffs Culter and Kuat had made an appearance the day before. At the end of everyones' reports Yos would then issue his orders for the day, usually based on his subordinates advise. Yutu wondered why more Fleet Admirals didn't do the same.

"Is there any way to plug up that leak on our end?" The Admiral asked.

"Not on our end, the Grand Moff has ordered a complete communications blackout from the maw. It will be up to Tarkin to control any information from escaping from the construction site and the crews of his fleet. He assures us, he has that possibility well in hand. From my understanding he's somehow even tricked ISB's agents until helping him out with their relentless search for spies and rebels."

"We are to launch a packet ship from the maw thirty days after our arrival with an update on the status of Tarkin's Fist. I think he also wants to hear Daala's reaction. I'm starting to get the impression that she doesn't know we're coming either." The Operations Commander interjected.

"Then we shall do so." Yos said "I'm concerned with the new personnel. I can see Ishin-II-Raz pulling a fast one on us and sneaking an COMPNOR agent out here. We need to be vigilant right up till the moment the slave rig engages."

"Yes, sir. Isard assigned some of his top men to your fleet. We'll keep on top of it."

"How are you doing with the starship captains I had you two meet?" Yos asked his two men.

Commander Dual answered for the two of them. "Most of the flag officers in the fleet are a little nervous about the slave rig thing. The Katana legend is a little too ingrained in their mentalities. Commander Yutu has done a great job assuaging their fears. Still the pucker factor is pretty high." That was another thing he liked about the elderly Admiral, he let his men speak their minds. He nodded his agreement with his fellow officer's assessment.

"Is there anything else, Commander?" his report had lasted almost forty minutes, but hadn't even come close to the two hour torture the Supply Officer had inflicted on them. They had been taking on a tremendous amount of supply and materials, so he supposed it had been necessary.

"No, Sir. That concludes my report for today."

"Excellent, make sure you send your proposals to my datapad, and some of the officers in Signal Interception want to meet with you when you get the chance."

"As soon as I can, I will do so, sir." Yutu took his seat as the Operations Officer took his turn. Across the table the Commander Charge worked on his own datapad. Another lesser Admiral would have yelled at the officer for working during a meeting, but Yos understood it was a very busy time for his crew.

When the meeting let out Yutu made his way down to the Signal Warfare shop that he had set up as his own. The Quill was one of the latest ships-of-the-line and as such was equipped with the state of the art in signal and sensor
interception gear. Signal Interception already reported to him, so it was a sign of the stress the Admiral had been under in the last few days to cause him to forget that. Yutu's office was within meters of the ship's bridge and it was a matter of seconds before he walked into the red lit room. None of the men moved when they noticed his arrival. He had already given them permission to ignore any one that wasn't the Fleet Admiral or one of the Moffs. Even the Quill's captain got ignored. The red lights helped the crewmen stare at their sensor screens without straining their eyes. A large HoloVid projected the system and the fleet's location in the middle of the room. Two crewmen listened to an intercepted subspace transmission from the Death Star's flight control to a flight of ore haulers entering the Horuz system. The men were getting a lot of training before the big jump. He remembered from his previous trips to the maw that there wasn't any signals to speak of coming in. He wondered what work he would find for these sailors once they arrived at their destination.

He set down in the command chair in the room. "Anything new since I left?" he had been sleeping in a small alcove just off to the rear of the room. He didn't want to miss anything.

First Lieutenant Knebler piped up. "Nothing big, all the starships and prisoners Tarkin could sneak off of Despayre have checked in and taken their positions. Those Kuati destroyers have been chatting it up with each other quite a bit this morning, but nothing more beyond that. We already sent a message about signal security, but it seems as if one of their laboratory ships is up to something."

"They knock it off?"

"For now, sir."

"Anything else?"

"Not really." The young lieutenant never took his eyes off the heads-up display at the front of the room. A good man there Yutu thought.

"How soon do you think before the fleet is ready to sail?"

"From what I understand they're waiting for thirteen cargo container ships to arrive sometime after 0000 hours, and those are coming with us so they don't need to be unloaded. Seco's loading up two battalions of jungle troopers from planetside right now and they should be back on board his warships within the next five hours. We have almost ten squadrons of TIEs and one of ARC-170s out there, so it would take another twenty minutes to load all of them aboard their respective carriers, so I'd say sometime after those cargo haulers join us after midnight." Yutu was impressed the man knew every movement of the fleet. He'd make a great Bridge Commander someday.

"Wizard. They're downloading the slave rig at 0800 triple zero time tomorrow. It'll be my show after that."

"You'll get us there, Commander. I have no doubt." It was nice to have the faith of his men. These men hadn't even been under his command a week ago, which showed how fast they had taken to their young commander.

Yutu popped his datapad out of the arm of his chair and put his security code in it to activate the thing. He didn't have any urgent messages waiting him so he started looking over his fleet operations files. As he did so he thought of the men who would lead Tarkin's Fist when they started their mission within the maw. Three Moffs under the command of a Fleet Admiral was a recipe for disaster. He wondered what Tarkin had been drinking when he had come up with that part of the plan.

Moff Kuantus Kuat was easily the most famous of the four men. Over a trillion shareholders of KDY had watched his every move for the past decade and he had made a lot of them extremely wealthy. He was easily the richest being in the fleet. His faked demise had been all over the HoloNews nonstop for the past few days, but it looked like his son, the newly appointed Kuat of Kuat, was taking the reins of the company with an energetic flourish. Palpatine had even announced new contracts that exceeded anything the company had ever seen, which had caused the company's stocks to rebound back after the news of Kuantas's passing. The man was a genius, not only had he faked his own death but brought an entire fleet with him. The man had dedicated himself to science and had enrolled tens of thousands of the wisest beings in the Galaxy in this project. Yutu looked forward to seeing some of their discoveries. Kuat had promised Yos that an exciting era in scientific achievement was about to dawn. Yutu just hoped Yos could keep the Kuati in line.

Moff Uredo Culter was a man cut from a similar cloth. He was a virtual unknown on Imperial Center. The Ord Mantellian had successfully terraformed twenty-five planets and the only one who had noticed was the Emperor. It was just that terraforming was such a boring profession that no one ever took note of it. Palpatine had stuck the scientist out in the Outer Rim Territory as Moff of the Anoat Sector. He had been about to start work on some planet named Hoth when Tarkin had plucked the terraformer from obscurity. Yos had ordered a strict subspace radio blackout on the man's flagship because he kept in communication with so many of his fellow terraformers outside of the hidden fleet. Yutu actually snorted at the thought because he had recently learned that there was actually only two other terraforming teams in the Galaxy and they were about as forgettable as Culter was. The man seemed to have no operational control over his own fleet and it appeared that some Clone Wars veterans had taken over some of his starships. Yutu had made overtures to them and they had assured him they were loyal to Admiral Yos and the Grand Moff.

Moff Vulnert Seco was another story. As a lifelong military man, he had been responsible for some of the worst trooper losses of the Clone Wars. He was a big fan of the philosophy of winning at any cost. He then had served under Vader in the slave roundups on Kashyyyk after the war. Vader had personally force choked the man before flinging him into a nearby tree because Seco accidently let some wookiee cubs escape. After several months in a coma Seco had awaken to be greeted by the Grand Moff. He had recovered on board the Havelon and had vowed to Tarkin he would have his revenge on Vader, and the Empire could be damned. Tarkin promoted him to Moff and stuck him out in the Ploo Sector. A forgotten sector in the back waters of the OverSector Outer, where he had nothing to do but put down union strikes and an outbreak of civil war on Corsin. He was making overtures to Moff Kuat for the use of his personal Imperial Floating Drydock, which Kuat had brought along from the KDY shipyards. Evidently Seco was planning on making up for the loss of overall command by having the most starships in the fleet. Kuat was just used to being around drydocks, and it had been natural for him to bring one along. Yutu made a mental note to keep an eye on Moff Seco.

Yutu's eye traveled to his commander's file. Fleet Admiral Aveo Yos had been born on Denon to a Denonian System's Naval Captain and his wife, a Denonian dancer of some limited celebrity on Denon. He had graduated with high marks from the Republic Academy on Carida, but had been denied fighter training. A few years after that had been quite a mystery on his service record, but it seemed he was a transport pilot of some sort. He had served in the Stark-Hyperspace Conflict and had even ended up in the Victory Fleet during the Clone Wars. He made Flag Rank there and had served under Tarkin in the Subterrel for most of the past decade. Somewhere along the line he had picked up a daughter who had been given the commission of an Imperial Cadet at the young age of four. Yutu saw nothing in the record that said who her mother was. Tarkin obviously thought a great deal about the man and had given him high performance marks. It was a wonder the officer wasn't a Moff, though Yos never did seem to give too much credit to Palpatine and his regime. His lack of the proper Imperial spirit probably held him back, Yutu figured.

It was quite the mixed bag of Warra nuts, Yutu thought. Tarkin had ordered him to report to him on that packet ship in a month. The Intelligence man was sure the Grand Moff would then order him to assassinate one of them. He figured it would probably be Kuat, but you could never be too sure with the Grand Moff. Something had to be done with the command structure of Tarkin's Fist in the long run. It was just a simple matter of too many Masters and not enough Knights.
He looked at the HoloVid again and the crew around him. However it all turned out, this was going to be an interesting adventure. He got up and went to his alcove for a few hours of sleep.
--------------------------------------------------
Observation Deck, Acclamator II-class Assault Ship Fool, Horuz System


It had finally happened; a batch brother had died of a heart attack on the core world of Byss. CC-2224 had known the deceased clonetrooper since they had both been decanted on Kamino together. CC-2224 had gone off to train as a clone commander under ARC-17, whereas CS-2229 had disappeared into training for duty as a supply sergeant in the GAR. It was funny, CC-2224 hadn't thought of the vod in twenty years, but the news of the clone's death hit him like a force pike to the chest. CS-2229 had grown old and fat from inactivity and in the end he was killed by a small congestion of plaque in one of his arteries. It was a sad way for a warrior to go.

In the eight years since the last battles of the Clone Wars his brothers and him had been bled dry. Less than a tenth of the Kamino clones were still alive these days. They had to merge their units with clones coming off the line from Centax-2 near Coruscant. The new guys had been less trained and ill-equipped mentally for the rigors of combat and because of it had suffered huge casualties at battles like Grievous's Invasion of Coruscant or the Second Battle of Kamino. It didn't matter anyways because all the clone units eventually became Imperial stormtroopers on the so-called 1st Empire's Day. After that it was mostly mongrels that filed up the ranks of the Imperial Army. That's how the clones saw the birth-born recruits that they had been ordered to train to replace themselves.

It hadn't been all bad, at least the clones started to receive a paycheck. The mongrels said it wasn't much, but to an ex-clonetrooper who had watched his brothers bleed to death on dozens of backrocket planets, and had never earned the thanks or the respect of the Republic it served, it had been a fortune. They had treated us as slaves, the thought still burned in CC-2224's heart whenever he thought of it. The Jedi had helped of course, but in the end they too, had betrayed the clones. He never had felt any guilt for firing on his Jedi general, even though the man had been one of his best friends during the war. The lack of guilt was something the aiwha bait back on Kamino had put into them. He was genetically ingrained to always follow orders, but it had been after Order 66 that he started to question them.

The end of the Clone Wars had been the start of the really bad times for the clone troops. The Kamino and Centax-2 clones would clash and fight when they were alone in their barracks, but both groups of men knew they were second-class troopers in the ranks of the new found Empire. The mongrels always got the best assignments and duties. The clones that had served aboard the Republic's Fleet had been drummed out of the Imperial Navy within months of Dooku's death. Thousands of them had been given the new stormtrooper armor and sent into the new Stormtrooper Corp or the new Imperial Marines. Only the mongrels served aboard the starships of the Fleet now days. So yeah, at least the clones started to receive a paycheck, too bad it didn't include any back pay.

The clones had been given the chance to become instructors at the Academies and the Basic Training Centers around the galaxy and hundreds had jumped at the chance to still serve. Several others had left the service and tried to make it in the civilian sector, from what he had heard it was hard on the clones out there to survive in the real world and hundreds had reenlisted back into the Corps. Some had succeeded and became laborers or construction yard workers, several of whom labored on the nearby Death Star project, some had even started families of their own. CC-2224 felt a momentary jolt of jealously before silently wishing those clones well.

CC-2224 walked the halls of the Fool in quiet reflection, amazed at the possibilities that lay ahead. He had started out in the officer's quarters and made his way to the fitness gym. His helmet was removed but he still wore the yellow and white Phase II armor that had served him during the war, when he got a chance. He wore a yellow Kama which hid his DC-15s blaster sidearm and vibroblade. The Fool itself was one of the five starships in Moff Culter's fleet that he could get away with such an outfit; in fact it was one of the only five starships in the Imperial Navy that was serviced entirely by clones.
CC-2224 walked into the gym and saw his face upon dozens of men around the room. A few gave him a nod or a wave as he entered. A few of the women in the room worked out with their husbands or helped out with the training of one of the kid's that were present. Half clone younglings were still a mystery to the Galaxy at large. CC-2224 ducked into the locker room and changed into his red fatigues. Once he was done, he headed straight for one of the zero-g treadmills and strapped himself in. He set his workout for sixty kilometers and .02g before he started bouncing along. It gave him more time to think. He looked around the room, not for a familiar face, but for old vode. He noticed Odd Ball and Bly lifting weights nearby and waved them over. The two fellow clone commanders strapped themselves into their own machines and quickly caught up to their friend. CC-2224 recognized a couple of veterans from his old 7th Sky Corp who snapped off friendly salutes to their old commander when they noticed his gaze.

"How are you feeling these days, Bly?"

"Pretty stang astral, if I do say so. This new escapade Bacara's got us all involved in has got me more pumped up than I
have been in years." Bly and him had both gone through the ARC troopers command training course after Geonosis and had been some of the first ground commanders to lead their own corps. They had been amongst the first to have achieved the rank of Clone Marshal Commander by the time of Order 66. The only thing different was Bly's trophy. The man had kept the lightsaber from the Jedi general he had cut down. Although rumor had it he and a few other men had shot Aayla Secura in the back. CC-2224 still burned at the memory that he had actually had his hand on one of those magnificent weapons, but had actually given it back to its owner minutes before he had been ordered to kill the man. It didn't distract from CC-2224 liking his vod Bly any less though. As far as he knew there were one hundred and thirty seven lightsabers on board, with just over three hundred scattered amongst the clone troops on nearby starships. A lot of men had stored away trophies from those days. It was the main reason why old clone armor was accepted dress on this particular starship. They had been issued the newer stormtrooper armor, but had always found it lacking, especially in shear stopping power, though he did notice clone troopers wearing the power gloves from the stormtrooper armor along with their own kits. The Empire got at least one thing right in the next generation of armor.

CC-1138 or just Bacara had contacted him about five years ago. Good old stoic and quiet Bacara had become fed up. He had stayed in the Galactic Marines when it had become the Imperial Marines and watched as mongrels had slowly eroded the fighting strength of his beloved corps. The man had distanced himself from his fellow Clone Commanders during the war, but COMPNOR's attitudes and those of the general public towards clones had strengthened his resolve to do something for his brethren. Clone had become a derogatory term throughout the different services, and no clone had ever heard of another clone getting a promotion since the end of the war. Bacara had become fed up and contacted as many of his brother commanders to meet with him. CC-2224 still remembered that meeting.

Bacara had found a Moff in the outer rim that was one of the best terraformers around. Unfortunately for the Empire the man had only a head for science. He had neglected his Sector Fleet and ground forces to the point of decay. Most of his fleet was still armed with Clone War era starships and equipment. It was at this point that Bacara was introduced to a man named Isard from Imperial Intelligence that had made a deal with them. It turned out that the spy had needed Culter's fleet scrubbed of the presence of ISB's men. The Imperial Security Bureau had already killed more than a few warships' captains and were running rampant over the Imperial Navy. Director Isard told them that he already knew of the Clone Exodus that had started soon after the end of the War. First it seemed every ARC trooper had suddenly vanished followed by whole teams of clone commandoes, after that clones would disappear down some type of underground pipeline.

The rumor had it the clones were showing up on Mandalore, but rumor also had it the Clone Marshals weren't exactly welcome. Somebody had explained to CC-2224 long ago it was because of all the time they had supposedly spent licking the Jedi's boots. Evidently those renegade clones needed some sort of explanation or readjustment he thought. Isard offered them another option, in return for returning the Anoat Sector Fleet to the Tarkin's Fist project he would make them a special deal. Bacara could scour the personnel records at will and transfer any clones in the service to Culter's command, they could even bring their dependents if any of them had any.

It had taken less than three days after the arrival of twenty Clone Marshal Commanders in Culter's fleet before every ISB agent, officer, and mole aboard this fleet had met with an unfortunate accident. After that the old crews of those starships started getting transferred around the Galaxy and men with a particularly familiar look started taking their place. Within the year, five Clone War Acclamator IIs were fully mongrel-free and served as a clone refuge. It was always funny when Moff Culter came around for an inspection, because he never seemed to notice.

It was the chance the clones had been waiting for. It sure beat the option they had all dreaded. The Kaminoans had been devious in their engineering. In order to get a clone army ready they had been given half the normal lifespan of one of their mongrel counterparts. Now when most of them were only twenty years old they each had the appearance of a forty year old. Battlefield stress and conditions of the Clone Wars had aged them even more prematurely so that the average physical age of the clones onboard his starship was forty-nine. No wonder they were starting to slip away like in the case of CS-2229. They needed somewhere to just live out the remainder of their lives in peace; it was the least the Empire owed them. When they had discovered Tarkin's plans from the loose lips of Moff Culter it seemed as if it was the golden opportunity. They could write their own ticket.

CC-2224 smiled to himself as he finished his workout. He was saddened for the loss of his brother, but optimistic for the first time in a long time about the future of the clones. Several half clone younglings ran past him and one small girl crashed into his leg.

"Be careful there, princess. Remember to use your peripherals when in action so you don't run into things."
The little girl repeated the words, it seemed as if the clone's offspring were already preparing themselves to be troopers and as such soaked up every lesson the clones taught them. It had relieved everyone when it was discovered that they age at a normal human rate.

"What's your name, little one?"

"Arla, Marshal Commander." He was proud that she could already read his rank off of his fatigues. She couldn't have been older than three.

"Marshal Commander is my rank, Arla'ika, but you can call me Cody."

MRI and Radiology Center, Med-Star Frigate Sedative, Outer Horuz System

First Lieutenant Roblin thought the immensely loud popping noises coming from the MedTech Industry's Deep BioSensor were going to leave him deaf. He had already been forced to lie in the machine for ten minutes and every time he tried to focus a thought another loud thump would come from a different random direction. Maybe the machine was broke and they just weren't telling him.

He lifted his head up and took a peek back towards the machine's opening. A Chiewab GH-7 Medical Analysis Droid waved one of its servos at him. He could barely make out what it was saying over the machine's din.

"Please, Lieutenant rest your head until the BioSensor has completed its exam." The droid scolded him in a soothing feminine voice.

"Is it almost over? This thing is a little claustrophobic you know." He made his voice heard over the noise.

"I have been informed of that by previous patients, Lieutenant. Please do not get excited and over-exert yourself or we will have to conduct the exam over."

Roblin laid his head back down and let out a long sigh. He had been off flight status for almost a week because of his injuries during the attack on the Death Star and he was going a little stir crazy being cooped up in MedBays since then. It could be worse, he thought of the wing mates that had lost their lives in that rebel ambush. Rebels, he couldn't believe they were real. The HoloNews had been talking of them for a few months now, right about the time they stopped talking about murderous Jedi butchering whole planets in the Outer Rim. Nobody he knew in the Navy had ever come across any of them before, but everyone knew a guy that knew a guy that knew another guy who had battled with the rebel scum.
How'd they get so many sophisticated weapons in the right place, he couldn't figure? Somebody had dropped the ball somewhere along the line. He felt relieved that it wasn't his job to track them down. The Empire always found the bad guys and pointed him at them. His TIE and his skills usually did the rest.

That was his big goal at the moment, to get back in a TIE. He had spent the week wrapped in Bacta presses and bandages. His shoulders had been torn out of socket by his crash webbing and his forehead had suffered a severe blow. He had spent the first two days after being injured submerged unconscious in a bacta container. That would have been enough for his shoulder injuries, but the flight surgeons had been worried about the frontal lobe of his brain. After no swelling had appeared after 48 standard hours the doctors had let him out just long enough to dry out, before they dipped him back in the blue goo everyday for an hour just to make sure. He spent the rest of the time reading HoloZines and getting friendly with a couple of females from the Imperial Medical Nursing Corps. A few of his surviving panel mates had visited him in the MedBay. They told him he was missed and that they had already picked up some replacement pilots straight out of the Academy. Major Vertitas was busy training them up for action in the maw and supposedly didn't have time to visit one of his injured flyers. Roblin had a few expletives to say when he heard that. Not only was Vertitas his commander, but they were both fellow Corellians, he should have at least paid Roblin a courtesy call.

Sometime during the previous evening he had been transported to the Sedative for a final check-up. Supposedly the Med-Star frigate had more in the way of diagnostic equipment then the Quill. Roblin had gone along with it, because if everything checked out he would finally be pronounced fit to fly again.

The biggest problem besides the noise was the flimsy black scrubs they had given him after ordering him to undress. The Med-Star frigate was heated like a cool day on Mygeeto. The injured TIE pilot swore his toes were coming down with frostbite when they led him to the Radiology Deck of the Med-Star. Several crew members had passed him in the hallway and gave him compassionate smiles. Each of them was dressed as if they were working in a frozen nerf meat hauler.
He endured a battery of tests from the MedTech FX-3 Medical Assistant droids, each one more intrusive than the last, before he was laid inside the BioSensor. He'd been immobile there ever since. The GH-7 gently probed his feet as the test commenced to judge his reaction to stimuli. After a grueling twenty minutes of thumps and pops and strange lights and odd sensory tests the machine slowly hummed to a stop. The GH-7 activated a command and the bed part of the machine slowly extended itself out of the mouth of the medical machine like a giant tongue. Roblin sat up as soon as his head cleared the opening. He was greeted by the arrival of a Geentech 2-1B Surgical Droid.

"Good Morning, 1st Lieutenant Roblin. How are you feeling this morning?"

"A little tired, it's a pretty early appointment I had to make."

"It's only 0400 hours. We wanted plenty of time for you to return to the Quill before the Fleet set sail later this morning." The 2-1B looked over his charts and test results.

"Well that's nice of you. I wouldn't want to miss the big show."

"I did not know you were invited to Fleet Admiral Yos's ceremony this morning." The 2-1B cocked its head in a way that looked confused for the Class-1 droid."

"Oh, that. No, I'm not going to that ceremony. It'll be a little too blue milk for me. I'm talking about the jump to the maw."

"Yes, that should be exciting, Lieutenant Roblin. I have not been there myself."

"I don't think many beings have."

"Do you have any aches or sores related to your injuries?" 2-1B asked.

He was still a little sore in both his shoulders when he woke in the morning, but he wasn't about to tell the flight surgeon that. "No, not really. You guys did a bang up job fixing these." To emphasize his point Roblin swung both his arms in big circles.

"I see. How about headaches or migraines? Are you currently suffering from any of these ailments?" Roblin shook his head. "How about vision or hearing loss? Vomiting? Nausea? Disorientation?" The line of questioning went on for quite a while and Roblin answered in the negative for all the symptoms. "Our tests and exams show that you are operating in the 98 percentile. If you were to recieve a little more rest you would be functioning at one hundred percent."

"Astral, I'll do that. I'll tell my Major that I need more naps. Doctor's orders."
2-1B just stared at him. "It's a joke, doc."
"Yes, very funny. We are still working on a cure for human's sense of humor." Roblin grinned at the droid. "You are approved to resume flight duties at this time. If any future problems arise please do not hesitate to call my office."

Roblin felt like jumping for joy. He gave his thanks to the mechanical doctor and was led by the GH-7 back to his changing room. Roblin changed into his grey naval uniform and gave special attention to making sure his flight insignia was on straight. After that he made his way back to his shuttle. It was another of the new Lambda class prototypes that had flooded the fleet in the past week. When he got into the passenger compartment he sank into plush Reek leather seats. A cute Imperial Steward brought him a glass of juice and asked if he would like anything else during his flight. Roblin could think of a few things, but before he could get the words out three other officers entered the compartment. The three men nodded to the Lieutenant and took their seats. All three of the men outranked him so he decided to pass the flight contemplating of what might have been with the steward. It would have only taken twenty minutes to return to the Quill's hangers anyways.

"Are you gentlemen heading to the change-of-command ceremony this morning?" he asked as the steward took the men's orders.

"Yes, a quick jaunt there and back this morning before that slave-rig thing punches up the 'big jump'." One of the men, a Senior Captain, answered for the group. Roblin was suddenly concerned; had he missed the news while he had been couped up in one medbay after another, because he hadn't heard anything about a slave-rig being employed. Those things usually resulted in a case of death for whatever fleet used them.
The cute steward left the room and Roblin hoped she hurried back soon. Another officer reached over and suddenly locked the crew compartment door.

"Attention on deck!" The man screamed and Roblin jumped to his feet before his mind reacted and asked why he was doing it. All three of the other men stood in rank facing him.

"First Lieutenant Timus Roblin, present yourself." The Captain ordered. Roblin whipped of his best salute and wondered what was going on. The other officer who had locked the door reached into a case he had been carrying when he had come aboard. The Captain stood in front of the nervous pilot as if he was carrying out an inspection. "For duty above and beyond the call of duty in the events of the attack on the Death Star you are hereby presented with the esteemed rank of Captain, Junior Class, in the Imperial TIE Corps of the Galactic Empire." Roblin looked around quickly and realized that all three men still outranked him. The Captain was handed the rank badge by the other man and pinned it to Roblin's rank board. He didn't put the backing on it, but instead punched the badge so as to drive the small pins into Roblin's chest. It was an old tradition, and Roblin was sure he still had the marks from when they had done it when he became a First Lieutenant. The Captain shook his hand, as the other officer handed him another package.

"You are hereby presented by Grand Moff Tarkin in absentia the Empirical Medal of Valor for your actions on, well son you know what you did. He pulled the medal from the box. It was attached to a ribbon which the Captain slipped over the new Captain's head. Vertitas was going to love this he thought.

"Thank you, sir. This is a real honor." He shook each man's hand and the other man, a Gunnery Commander slapped him on the back. The last officer gave an indicating cough.

"Oh, yes, Captain Roblin, there is one more thing. You see the three of us hail from a system that you are probably familiar with." He didn't know why he didn't see it earlier, but as he looked at the faces of the three other men he realized he was staring at the faces of home. "As Corellians we all serve as members of the Corellian military as well as our service to the Empire. There are only a few system adornments that can be worn on your uniform that have been approved by the Navy, but this is one of them. The Captain bent down and drew a long strip of yellow striped cloth out of the case. Roblin also spotted the same stripes on each of the other officer's pant legs, except on the Captains as his was the color of blood. "It is my honor to present you with these Corellian Blood Stripes second class as a mark of your bravery and service to Corellia. You are hereby duty bound to always display them and kill any man who wears them under false pretenses." He had always dreamed of receiving this honor ever since he had been a little boy and heard stories of pilots in the Clone Wars who had received them, but the chances of getting a pair of them for himself had been so great that he figured his luck wouldn't be enough.

The officer nearest the door reached over and unlocked it again. The steward came back in with a confused look upon her face, but Roblin was too elated to pay her any attention now.

"I don't know what that was about, sirs?" She gave a quizzical look at the medal around Roblin's neck, "But we will be landing on board the Quill any moment. I'm going to have to ask you to return to your seats."

"Fine, fine." Was all the Captain told her and she retreated back into the crew compartment. The officer slapped Roblin on the back again. "Well done, son, Well done."

Shortly thereafter there was a thud as the shuttle set down inside the crowded Beta Hanger of the Quill. The four men exited and the other officers excused themselves to attend the ceremony. Roblin felt like he was on Cloud City. He rushed to his billets and had a service droid quickly attach his Blood Stripes to his flight uniform. As soon as it was done he ordered it to put a pair on every uniform he owned. Captain Roblin couldn't wait to show them off and left his billet so he could walk the hallways of the Quill with a new strut in his step. He loved the looks his new medal attracted. At one point he noticed out of a nearby viewport the launching of crew shuttles and rushed back down to the Beta Hanger to once again to thank the three other Corellians before they departed. As it turned out, he found out from the deck officer, he had just missed them. Instead he walked over to the TIE racks where mechanics and service droids were doing routine maintenance.

He nodded to the ground crew as they continued their duties. He ran his hand along the solar array of the lowest TIE in the racks with loving appreciation. Soon he told himself he would once again be behind the stick of one of them. He spent the next few hours in the hanger bay with his beloved fighters. He noticed the jump to hyperspace later that morning through the shields that covered the bay. An armored shield of durasteel slowly closed off his view of the other dimension and he returned his attention to the fighters.

"There you are," Roblin spun around to see his flight leader fast approaching him. Major Vertitas suddenly stopped and pointed at Roblin's legs. "Where in the Nine Hells did you get those?"
Roblin crossed his arms and gave his commander his best smirk. Just before he could stick his foot in his mouth, everything went black.
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Admiral's Quarters, Imperial II-Class Star Destroyer Quill, Outer Horuz System

Her father looked striking with his new rank insignia in place. It was a sign that the Yos Family had arrived upon the galactic scene. The Grand Moff hadn't only given her father the new title, but also his own satrap to rule and do with as he wished. What that meant for Phasma was something that made her head spin with excitement.

The two of them had risen early in the morning in order to prepare themselves for the day's events. The grandest of which was the change-of-command ceremony where her father would be given control of over a thousand starships, after that there was a hyperspace jump with the entire fleet, and then if they had time a possible battle at the end of it all. She smiled when she realized her father would win it with the numbers he had on his side, but she couldn't help but cheer for the plucky female Captain Daala as well. She felt sure the Captain would stand down as soon as her father transmitted the security codes, but you never knew what went through the minds of command officers.

Phasma had dressed much more quickly than her father, the Fleet Admiral. As she ate her breakfast she could hear the water shower running from his refresher. That was odd she thought, he never takes one of those, preferring the sonic shower like most civilized beings. He must be stressed out by the upcoming events. Ten minutes later he came out of his room and stepped into the dining room where she sat reading a HoloZine. He was a study in military class and precision. Every medal was shined and straight, and the uniform itself had meticulously pressed by the ship's laundry the day before. Her father's black dress boots were shined to the point that they appeared as a black mirror, and the cadet smiled at her own reflection in shiny footwear. She made a note to ask him how he achieved such an effect someday, as her own boots had only the most rudimentary gloss upon them.

"You look very handsome, Father." She understated as he took a seat.

"Thank you, Jawa." He kissed her on the cheek. He had called her that name since she was three and had taken apart his blaster and put it back again with less than desirable results. "You look stunning as well. Are you ready for your role in the proceedings today?" he asked distractedly as he pulled out his datapad to check the activities of the fleet while he had slept. A CCR-23 kitchen robot rolled out of the kitchen to take his order. "Reek steak, medium rare, with eggs and nerf sausage, CeeCee." The droid beeped and rolled back into the kitchen

"Yes, Dad, I should be ready. All I have to do is stand at attention and try not to fall over for the whole thing."
"Make sure you don't lock your knees, prevents blood flow and you could pass out. I saw another cadet do that at the Imperial College."

"That must have been embarrassing. Whatever happened to him?"

"Piett? Last I heard he was serving in Vader's fleet."

"That would be scary; I heard he chokes people with his mind." The cadet finished the bowl of cereal that CeeCee had prepared for her before her father's arrival.

"It's nonsense just meant to scare you, Jawa. The Navy would never stand for that type of behavior on board one of its warships."

"That's good. Where are you going after the ceremony this morning?"

"I'm headed straight for the command bridge to join Captain Nake and Commander Yutu with the slave rig up load. I might have some time before the 'big jump' to hyperspace if you'd like to join me for lunch." The admiral explained.

"I wish I could, but Bantha Battalion is going to let me participate on the blaster range today. I might even get to shoot off an E-Web."

"That would be a good experience for you," he seemed focused on his datapad for a second, but suddenly looked up again. "You'll have to focus on your studies after that; I've already gotten approval to enroll you early at the Maw Academy we are starting up. The Grand Moff has assured me that the class credits earned there will be accepted anywhere in the Imperial Navy."

"That's astral, Dad. Will there be an Imperial College as well for life after the Academy? I won't get far if I don't take the Command and Fleet Operation courses." She had already looked into it herself, but she wanted her father to confirm it.
"Um, yes, Moff Kuat already has the best professors and teachers from hundreds of Imperial Colleges on board his squadron of starships. Everything is already in place for Tarkin's Grand Utopia."

Phasma giggled, her father had already told her his plans to shape maw society with his vision and not the Grand Moff's. "Do you think my chances for command would increase if I was married?" Her father spit out the caf he had been sipping across the table.

"What?"

"What are my chances for promotion if I had a husband?"

"That's still a ways away I hope, but I've witnessed a lot of careers get flushed down the refresher when an officer ended up chasing ill-reputable women. I'm sure the same applies to female officers as well. It's basically rotten politics."
"But you did just fine and you never married my Mother."

"Yes, but at the time I wasn't stationed anywhere near Imperial Center either. That situation could have hurt my career if it had come to light to the wrong officers. "You don't by chance have anyone in mind, do you?" The confused look of pain upon her father's face moved her.

"No one in particular, I'm just curious is all." Her father's sigh of relief was quite audible. She decided to keep her thoughts on a certain TIE pilot to herself. She wondered if Lieutenant Roblin would be at the ceremony this morning, as she had heard he would be released from medical care rather soon.

"That's good; I don't need that added stress on today of all days." He reached over and pulled her close, so that he could place a kiss on the top of her head. "I'm not quite ready to give away my girl yet." He dove into his breakfast the moment CeeCee laid it in front of him.

She decided to change the subject before it became too uncomfortable for either of them. "The Quill's sublight engines seem to be engaged. Are we going somewhere?"

"I've ordered the fleet away from the Horuz system and the Death Star, so that there are less prying eyes when we make our getaway." The Fleet Admiral smiled at his young Cadet's keen powers of observation.

"When did we leave?"

"Sometime before 0100 hours, we had been just waiting for a few more cargo haulers to join us, and as soon as they were on station I ordered the Fleet forward."

"I thought I heard you come back late last night. It's a good thing you didn't sleep in your uniform again."
"I'd been saving this one for this morning. I look pretty sharp, huh?"

"Very prim and proper," She stood up to leave. She had to be in formation well before her father's arrival at the Alpha Hanger's ceremony this morning. "I'll see you there, Dad."

"I'll look for you, Jawa."

She made sure her uniform was as straight and precise as her father's had been before she left through the doors of their quarters. She noticed how busy the hallways were as the first and third shifts of the Quill's crew were swapping out duties. The overnight crew was the tired ones heading towards their billets, while the day crew was the ones sipping on their caf and snapping stim sticks as they made their way to their stations.

She made her way down to Alpha Hanger and greeted several of the other ship's officers who were already present. They milled about, discussing ship's scuttlebutt and trying to mind their language around the Fleet Admiral's daughter. She would rather they had treated her as an equal.

Several platoons of stormtroopers and Naval Marines entered the hanger. Phasma admired their armor, which was unfortunately too large for her to wear properly, before she noted the difference between the white clad troopers. The first rank they formed was filled with normal stormtroopers, but specialized troopers filed in behind them. She tried to note each specialization that was represented. She was pleased when she identified a radrrooper, an evotrooper, a few snowtroopers, and even three commandoes in their specialized armor in the rear row. The commandoes seemed to fade in and out of her eyesight the more she looked at them.

Three admirals stood on a raised platform at the front of the hanger as the Imperial March started to blare. She had listened to the song since she had been a baby, and it had always filled her with a sense of patriotism. Her father followed three stormtrooper flag bearers through the ranks of troopers. Phasma focused all her attention on a point across the hanger and never moved her eyes from it, even when she felt her father look towards her.

Her father made a stirring speech and accepted command of the entire fleet. The entire ceremony was brief, and Phasma got the sense that many of the officers around her were itching to get back to their own stations. When the ceremony was over her father was surrounded by Moffs, while her formation of the ship's crew scattered all over the starship.
She decided to make her own exit and followed the line of Naval Marines leaving the hanger. Several of them greeted her politely and asked when she was going to organize another training exercise against the stormtroopers.
"Soon boys, as soon as we get settled in the maw." She assured them.

She spent a few hours in the Quill's library, before heading to the range located in the stormtrooper barracks. Everyone on board was allowed to use it, but it was usually the domain of the Corps. Several stormies greeted her and fitted her for a stormtrooper bucket. The HUD inside was wondrous and gave her a tremendous amount of information for taking her shots. She gleefully spent the next hour blasting targets and competing with the other troopers. A couple snipers showed her what real shooting was like before their Loot let her try her hand on an E-Web.

"I think we just jumped?" One of the stormtroopers near her suggested, but she was too focused on the weapon before her. The Lieutenant stood behind her for support, while another trooper stood beside the barrel to deal with the recoil. It wasn't a fluke that the bigger stormtroopers in a platoon usually manned the weapon system.
A target of a Clone War spider droid popped up a hundred meters downrange. The young cadet lined up her reticule and squeezed the trigger. The target shattered into a thousand shards of debris as her blast hit it dead center. The barrel of her E-Web shot up into the air as the nearby stormtrooper slapped it back down.
Inside her helmet Phasma grinned from ear to ear. She certainly could get used to this, she thought.
Then everything went black.
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Hold G-2, Imperial Prison Ship Manacle, Horuz System

"E chu ta, this place reeks." Brakatak squeezed his nose to make his voice sound funny. Two little Gran girls, who were playing with dolls nearby, giggled at him. Their mother appeared suddenly and had the girls follow her. She looked back over her shoulder and chided him. "Please watch the swearing in front of the younglings, Brakatak."

"Oh, yeah sorry, my mistake." He meant it earnestly.

Hold G-2 had to be the most brilliantly colorful hold on the entire ship. Gran saw so many different spectrums of light that they rejoiced in every color they could find. They had transferred the empty hull into a rainbow of tents and shelters made out of the beautiful quilts and linens the Gran had bought along with them. The few non-Gran slaves that had been thrown into G-2 along with the herd seemed to comment on the striking radiance around them every chance they got. Brakatak thought they should check out one of the Gran's cities back on Kinyen if they really wanted to be impressed.

Since being locked inside Hold G-2 five days ago most of the adult Gran hadn't had much to do with the large lonely Gran. Brakatak sat at the rear of the hold near a small viewport the size of someone's head. He wondered if every hold had one. Nobody paid much attention to the thing anyway, as there was only so many Star Destroyers you could stare at all day. The only reason he had come over to the thing was someone had said that they couldn't see Despayre anymore and he had figured that the Fleet must have been underway. Brakatak still had no idea where they were heading, but guessed it had to be somewhere awful. Imperial slaves always ended up in those places. Brakatak didn't stare out into the void for very long as it depressed him to think he'd never be allowed to achieve his dream of piloting his own starship out there.
Since he was the only member of his family Brakatak had gotten a shelter all to himself. He was thankful for it too; the only thing he had brought along in his pack had been a spare hydrospanner and a change of clothes. Some of the Gran families had loaded themselves down like pack animals when they had come aboard. Since the overhead glow lamps never turned off inside the hull, the shelter gave him a small area of darkness when he needed a rest. His friendliness had earned him a few roommates. Two teenage near-human Firrereos with nothing but the clothes on their backs had taken up his offer to share a shelter, and later a waylaid Ishi Tib who had ended up in a different hold than that of his own beings had joined them. The Ishi Tib had worried constantly about his 'school's' well being, and even the eternal optimism of Brakatak hadn't been enough to lift the fishy little guy out of his funk.

The Gran herd easily dominated the hold. There were almost two hundred of them and only a handful of other species present. In the middle of the camp a huge trove of food had started to pile up and was stored by the herd's bull, Frekfrek. Grans only ate about once every week, but when they did the meal usually lasted about the length of a standard day. Gran weren't a species who liked to be rushed when it came to food. Every morning food was delivered to the hold, and Frekfrek had assigned some of the larger families to gather it together where it could be monitored by the Gran leader. As the food was usually delivered well before Brakatak woke up he was glad he hadn't been chosen for the duty. For the most part Frekfrek left him alone, which had its negative points as well. Brakatak was slowly beginning to realize that he was becoming an outcast amongst his own herd. The little girls he had sworn around had been the first Gran to pay him any attention all day.

Brakatak made a circuit of the hold to break up the boredom and see if anything was going on. He watched a couple of Gran boys wrestle for a bit then moved on to join in a conversation about limmie teams with a couple of Chagrians. Even though they lost him several times Brakatak became fully engaged in the heated conversation, which quickly attracted the attention of the other hold inhabitants. The two fellow slaves had to finally excuse themselves for something they called lunch and went about their own business. Frekfrek controlled the food in the hold, but didn't seem to have any problem letting the other slave races in here with them share the Gran's stockpile. It had lead to quite a bit of cooperation amongst the slaves, where as Brakatak could imagine fights and other forms of brutality breaking out in the other holds of the transport. Brakatak was still a few days from his next meal and felt like heading back to his tent for an afternoon nap.
He was surprised by the presence of one of his tent mates when he pulled the flap open. His Ishi Tib friend, Frip, lay along the side of the tent breathing raggedly. His skin was an unnatural shade of grey and seemed to be shedding off his body in tiny flakes. Brakatak's eyesight also picked up on subtle changes in the amphibian's body temperature and noted the male was starting to burn up from fever.

"What's wrong, Frip? You don't look so good, friend."

Frip lifted his head slowly up off of his makeshift pillow. His beak opened and shut a few times before he spoke. "Hello, Brakatak." His voice was full of the clicks and hoots of his species. "You are right me not looking best today."
"What's wrong, pal?" Brakatak was genuinely concerned for his new friend. He and Frip had come to know each other quite well over the past few days and he had become quite fond of his fishy friend.
"Me need water." Flip hooted.

"I can go get you some."

"No, special water, from Tibrin." Brakatak knew his friend's home was a salt water ocean planet and he was pretty sure the fleet wasn't heading for it. Where was he going to find any of this so-called special water?
As he sat down next to his friend there was movement behind him as the two Firrereos entered the shared abode. "Ashlei, Keatly can you go and find Frekfrek for us. I think Frip's sick."

"What's wrong, Frip?" They both asked at the same time.

"Just go find Frekfrek will you." Brakatak snapped at the teenagers. His outburst surprised him, but it showed how concerned he was about his friend. A slave had so few things in life and a friend was one of the most precious things one could grab onto. The two girls left the tent and went looking for the bull.

"So what's wrong with you, Frip?"

"Ishi Tib must wash selves in Tibrin waters every thirty hours or so or Ishi Tib get very sick. Some of Frip's beings die if no get rinsed."

"When was the last time you washed yourself, we have a refresher on the other side of the hold you know?"
"Not right type of water and sonic shower no good." Frip clicked and gasped basic to his pal. His breathing was starting to become labored "Washed Frip before getting on ship. Camp guards let whole school wash selves at beach as long as Ishi Tib wear slave collars."

"What about the rest of your school on board? Do you think they're alright?"

"Guards have special hold with special sprinkler system. Wash school every day. Frip got lost and ended up in wrong hold with colorful Gran friend Brakatak." His language skills had sounded beautiful and haunting when he had first heard them, but the shakiness in his friend's voice scared him.

"Just rest, friend, help is on its way." Brakatak thumped his fist lightly on Frip's shoulder. He waited in silence and listened to the starship's engines carry them further from Despayre. A few minutes later Frekfrek's gruff voice came from outside the tent.

"Brakatak, are you in there? I can't hear you like always?"

"Yes, Frekfrek, please come in." Brakatak bowed his head to the herd's bull as the male entered the tent followed by an older female Gran known as Tulopek, the herd's residential healer.

"It's Frip, right?" Frekfrek asked the Ishi Tib.

"Yes, Frip is not well."

"What's the problem my fishy friend?" Tulopek asked. Between Frip and Brakatak they were able to explain the problem to the two herd elders. Tulopek and Frekfrek gave each other a knowing look and Frekfrek excused himself. The healer assured Frip that everything would be wizard and washed his face with a wet cloth. The two Firrereo girls watched from the door flap. Brakatak just watched and Tulopek gave him a reassuring smile as well. Ten minutes later the two teenagers made way for Frekfrek's return.

"Alright, we think we have what you need, Frip." The bull announced when he entered the shelter. "Brakatak, help me get our friend here to his feet." Brakatak stood and helped Frip up. He was easily the biggest being inside the hold and towered over the others in the tent. He threw his arm around his friend and helped the Ishi Tib exit the shelter.

Outside three other Gran males being-handled a make shift plastoid tub over to Brakatak's tent. A bucket brigade made up of members of the herd stretched back to the refresher and the tub was slowly filling with water. Tulopek called for the herd's salt licks that they usually would enjoy between meals. She broke a couple up and let them dissolve into the cool water. She brought over a sample of it to the sickly Ishi Tib.

"Needs more salt please." Tulopek motioned for another salt lick to be thrown in. She motioned Brakatak forward and the Gran lowered his friend into the medicinal water. Its effects on Frip were instantaneous as he breathed for several moments fully submerged in the water. Brakatak watched as the exposed sections of the Ishi Tib's skin turned from grey to green as Frip's scales reacted to the salty brine. The Gran stood around the tub and waited. After a few minutes of inactivity several of them went back to their tents or found something else to preoccupy themselves with. Suddenly the Ishi Tib shot up from his prone position splashing Brakatak's legs with salt water.

"Many thank yous Gran friends! Frip much better now. Eternal school members of Frip from this day!" The Ishi Tib celebrated. He shook the hands of Tupolek as Frekfrek slapped the male on the back.

"Let's get you something to eat." Tupolek offered as Frip climbed out of the tub. Frip agreed and the healer led his friend away to the food stockpile. Brakatak felt nervous when he noticed the bull had come up alongside him.

"Our herd is now a school?" The older Frekfrek joked with him. Brakatak had feared the old male for the past couple of years of captivity. His respected him because he always put the concerns of the herd first, but Brakatak was constantly on the bull's bad side because he was always leaving the herd and meeting new beings.

"He's a good fellow, he should fit right in."

"I'll let the rest of the herd know he's part of your family, since its numbers are so low." Frekfrek was the head of the largest family in the herd, which held over thirty members including several eligible females Brakatak's age. Thirty would have been an insignificant number back on Kinyen, but in the slave camps of Despayre it had seemed immensely huge. Brakatak knew he needed to stay on Frekfrek's good side for as long as he could.

"Astral! I'll make the little fish into a fine Gran."

"That's something I've been meaning to talk with you about. I know you don't have a family to answer to, but you are a member of this herd. You are one of the few who remember what home was like. Years of slavery have whittled down our numbers, and I need you to keep your focus on the safety of the herd."

They started walking together around the hold. Frekfrek kept his voice low as not to be over heard by the other inhabitants.

"I will try to do better, Frekfrek."

"I know you mean no harm, Brakatak, but you draw a lot of attention to us. Attention that might not be welcome when we arrive at our destination." The bull chased a Gran youngling away from the viewport when they came to it. "It looks like we've entered hyperspace. You studied to be a pilot back on Kinyen right."

"Yes, it was an exhilarating time before we lost everything. That's also where I learned basic, so as to be a better star pilot for Kinyen."

"This should be exciting for you then."

"It is. Have you heard anything about where we are going?"

The bull thought for a moment. "We can yell across the hallways to the other slaves in their holds, but nobody seems to know anything. I was hoping through all your socializing that you had heard something."

"I've talked to guards and the crew whenever they pass the shield door, but they don't really know either. I would have chatted up a stormtrooper, but they all seem to be armed with those force pikes on board this ship. They're not afraid to us them on a mouthy slave either. I don't think they rightfully know where we're headed."

"That is strange." Brakatak was proud he was able to fill his leader in on something the male had evidently been unaware of. "Why would a crew not be informed of its destination? How would they even steer the ship in the right direction?"
"They could be getting a tow, but I don't know if they can do that through hyperspace." Brakatak motioned towards the viewport.

"Let me know if you come across any information, son, the safety of the herd may depend on it."
Brakatak felt elated that the bull would rely on him as a potential information broker. "I will Frek…" before he could complete his sentence the hold was plunged into darkness.

Command Bridge Section, Imperial I- Class Star Destroyer Insertion, Outer Horuz Sector

Eritech was a frustrated man. The communication blackout that the ridiculously named Tarkin's Fist sailed under was hampering his mission. And what a mission it had turned out to be too. It was Grand Treason against the Emperor and the Empire, plain and simple. You could throw in a massive case of theft as well, the false Bridge Commander thought as he trudged the warship's walkways. When he found himself in a empty hallway with nothing more than a protocol droid passing by, he found himself striking out in his rage. He tore at the droid's head from behind, snapping the device's head clean off. It fell into his hands, and he watched the light fade away from it photo-receptive eyes. His inner rage still boiled beneath the surface but at least it was under control.

He felt a little better about himself as he laid the droid's head on the deck and vacated the area. He wondered what it would be like to actually take a real life, as a follower and proponent of High Human Culture he imagined the life he would take as an alien, clone, or if he was offered the chance Captain Halser.

The Captain of the Insertion hadn't even been the focus of his investigation, but had come under his crosshairs none-the-less. Eritech had watched as the Fleet had loaded up for a long journey, had monitored the huge troop buildup and the ships full of a slave army that had taken their place in the starship column behind his. All the while gathering evidence against this band of rebel scum. Scuttlebutt had been filled with rumors of the maw formation near Kessel, but he had been trained to ignore scuttlebutt and find the truth behind the stories.

Days of speculation and investigation on his part were rewarded the evening before when the Captain had returned from the Fleet Admiral's briefing on board the Quill. The Captain had then called for his own debriefing of his command staff last night. Eritech had remembered how he had reported to it with a new hope that his enemy's treasonous plan would finally be revealed, and he hadn't been disappointed.

Captain Halser had gathered his officers unconventionally in his own quarters. If that hadn't been enough to perk the spy's interest the presence of security droids sweeping the Captain's rooms for listening devices as they entered, helped push it to its peak. Officers from every ship department had crowded into the room until it was standing room only. Several of the men had come up and introduced themselves to his alias, the new Bridge Commander Volt, and he had been forced to exchange pleasantries with men he thought of as his lesser. The presence of the five female officers that served the Insertion further unnerved him. It will be a glorious day when the Empire finally drumed their kind from it's service.
The Captain had waited until he had everyone present before he had started, so the ISB man had to endure several minutes of mixing and small talk before he got his answers. He did wish that drinks were being served, but several of these men were still technically on duty. Eritech kept checking his chromo in anticipation. The Captain at last called the briefing to order, and the room was so quiet you could have heard Alderaanian flea cry.

"Men, I am here to let the Skifflin out of the sack." Captain Halser began and Eritech felt the collective crowd lean forward in anticipation. "We can finally put weeks of speculation behind us. We are being ordered into the maw." The murmurs from the startled crew started immediately.

"Sir, nobody has ever survived entering the maw formation." The ship's Flight Control Officer interrupted.

"That is what I believed as well, but as it turns out Grand Moff Tarkin has discovered a way into the formation and several years ago set up a scientific research installation within it. This base has been the place where many of the advancements being used on the Death Star were developed. Our orders are to move into this area between the black holes and protect the installation, as well as be on alert if the Death Star ever comes under attack."

"Can't Tarkin watch his own back?" An officer Eritech had never met asked.

"Supposedly this battle station's superlaser has some recharging issues. There's also the issue that Tarkin may need us for special duties."

"Special duties?" Eritech found the question leaving his mouth before he even had time to think it out.

"The Grand Moff feels there are certain elements that could bring their forces to attack the Death Star." Eritech held his breath for Halser's revelation. "Forces like Vader's, Pestage's, COMPNOR, ISB's or any other force serving the Emperor. Or even these mysterious rebels the Emperor keeps prattling about."

"It is our great honor to serve the Emperor." Eritech demanded, but he had been startled at the reaction he got from the officers around him. They looked at him as if he suddenly developed a case of the plague. Eritech vowed to study every one of their personnel files as soon as possible. There definitely was a high level of rebellion already present amongst this crew.

"Yes, and we do, Commander Volt, but first and foremost we serve the men of this ship. You haven't been here very long, but you will come to learn we operate a little differently on board the Insertion." Eritech felt dozens of eyes fall upon him and decided to see where the Sabacc cards would fall. The Captain continued, "We have joined with four other attack squadrons to protect a fleet of hundreds of transports, cargo haulers, and research craft to form a new type of society within the maw. A lot of what you know and are used to within the Empire will change. We will also have our dependents to think of as most of you have brought your families along on this trip. They will be our ultimate responsibility while we are there. We are under the command of Fleet Admiral Yos, a good officer who served in the Clone Wars and has been forgotten and ignored by the Emperor he serves. He will only answer to the Grand Moff, and several of you are already speculating what will happen after the power of the Death Star has been demonstrated. Admiral Yos has assured me that we will have a large part in shaping the way the Galaxy will look in the years to come."

Excited chatter circled the room and Eritech couldn't believe how many Imperial Officers were happy about committing treason. Who were these officers and how did they fly under the ISB's subspace radar for so long? The Captain went on for quite awhile. He talked of their new duty to the Fleet, how in public it was important to keep a stiff Impirical lip, how their lives would be changed and how they would find more meaning to them by their service to Tarkin and the society he was trying to create. It was all sithspit as far as the spy was concerned.

The meeting had moved into tactical concerns, and Eritech was surprised to learn there was actually a loyal officer already in the maw ready to give her life to protect the Empire, but unaware of the imminent arrival of Tarkin's Fist. Too bad she was a woman, he pondered in disgust. Supposedly the broadcast of security codes would prevent her from blasting upon them as the emerged from hyperspace.

The Captain reminded them all that it would be a long day and if they didn't already have duty they should return to their quarters and get some well needed sleep. He dismissed them and Eritech wondered how many other Captains throughout the Fleet had gone along with the plan. As he hadn't heard any alarms signaling a starship was attacking other ships, he figured quite a few had found the plan appealing.

He had headed straight for the bridge. His hope was to blow the whistle on Tarkin's little enterprise in the hopes that the Empire could order another fleet to intercept them in time. He was greeted by a quartet of fully armed stormtroopers guarding the subspace comm station. He demanded to be able to send a message but the Comm Officer had told him they were under a mandatory communication blackout. He then demanded to know whether the stormtroopers served the Emperor or not and was shocked when they responded they served this ship. It was such an atypical response for a stormtrooper to say, hadn't these men received the proper indoctrination. Since training hadn't these troopers been emerged in the Tarkin Doctrine? No sooner had the thought escaped his mind than the realization of Tarkin's master plan dawned on him. The Grand Moff was setting himself up to over throw the Emperor one day.

Tarkin must be stopped. Eritech had returned to his quarters and retrieved a device that the Imperial Security Bureau had trained him to use years ago. Amongst his gear were several sabotaging devices that ISB made sure all its agents were equipped with. The particular item he was looking for was called a Mauler Virus. Developed during the Clone Wars when the Republic had noticed interference amongst its own computer databases, research had been poured into finding a way to destroy those databases before anyone could get any use out of them. The result had been the Mauler, a program that not only stopped an enemy virus but destroyed the friendly computer program it was targeted at. If Fleet Admiral Yos wanted to use a slave rig and some Imperial Intelligence wonder boy to move the fleet through a giant cluster of black holes he'd have to do it with a blinded nav computer network.

Eritech had no doubt he would eventually be found out, and grabbed a pair of suicide teeth out of his gear. He stepped
inside his refresher and used the mirror to install them behind his rear molars. He felt it an honor to die for his Emperor, but momentarily thought of what would happen to him after an act of suicide. The Corellians had a notion of hell, and he had heard there was some sort of ghostly afterlife if you believed in the Force, which he didn't. He would have to take his chances, maybe it was a High Human Culture nirvana and he would be welcomed as a martyr, he silently hoped.
That morning Captain Halser had left to attend a Change-of-Command ceremony for the Fleet Admiral and the Bridge Commander had been left in charge of the Insertion's Command Bridge. He had no problem taking the helm from the CPO that manned it. In fact the man stood next to him and smiled politely as he down loaded his little trap inside of it. When the slave rig interfaced with his program it would be just a matter of time before this Fleet was dead in the water and could be destroyed at the Emperor's leisure.

When the Captain had returned and taken command of the bridge, Eritech had excused himself and walked the halls of the starship that he felt had turned into his tomb. He had his small droid attack episode, before finding a commo station along one of the ships walls. He paged the bridge. He ordered the bridge commo technician to inform the Captain that he had taken ill and was reporting to the MedBay. When he closed the circuit to shut off the comset he watched outside of a nearby viewport as realspace shifted to hyperspace. Durasteel shutters slowly moved down the viewport to shut off his view and prevent the dementia that spacers believed crews got when they looked at hyperspace for too long.
An absurd idea he thought. Looking at something for too long would never drive him crazy. Suddenly, there was a half second where the ship's klaxons went off before everything went startling black.
----------------------------------------
Hanger Alpha, Imperial II class SD – Quill, Horuz System

The Imperial March blared over the PA audicasters from every corner of the large hanger bay. Admiral Yos always wondered why it sounded so menacing when it was supposedly written for a force that was designed to bring peace to the Galaxy. Another aspect of the Tarkin Doctrine the new Fleet Admiral figured.

Three Imperial stormtroopers marched in front of him, each one high stepping in such precision, that one could have mistaken them for some sort of new battle droid. The trooper in the middle carried an Imperial standard high above the crowd of assembled troopers and sailors as the other two acted as a sort of honor guard. The elder Yos marched slowly between rows and rows of orderly ranks from every flagship in the Fleet. He marched past his daughter. Phasma, who stood at attention in one of the front ranks. As he noticed her out of the corner of his eye he snorted to himself at the sight. She was a good foot shorter than the other officers and her face was a study of concentration as she tried to act the part of a proper officer. Her eyes looked straight ahead and never once moved in his direction. Good girl, her proud father thought.

His focus turned towards the men he was marching towards. The Honor Guard turned to the left when they got to the raised stage those men stood upon. Silently the three troopers carried their emblem to the rear of the stage where it joined four others. Each flag carried the symbol of the Empire, the blazoned circle that Palpatine had handed down to the military on that first Empire's Day over ten years ago. The only banner that was strikingly different from the others was the one that flew the system colors and emblem of Kuat. The banners of the other three carried flourishes that designated which Moff each belonged to. For example, Culter's seemed to have a planet that was undergoing some sort of change upon his. The three stormtroopers placed the Impirical Banner higher than the other four to show to everyone present who they all served.

Fleet Admiral Yos stood in front of three other Admirals at full attention for half a minute before the anthem ended and the hanger was plunged into silence. He spent the time studying the three officers before him. The first was cut straight from the Impirial cloth, and had served Moff Seco for years, Yos had heard that Seco had saved the Admiral Neptu's family from a Separatist execution during the War and the man had followed him faithfully ever since. The second Admiral, Hadrian, was straight from KDY and the different cut and colors of his uniform set him at odds with the uniforms all around. The third man had looked strangely familiar to him for the past week, and if Yos didn't know any better Admiral Bacara bore the striking resemblance to one of the old clonetroopers Yos used to command.

The ceremony was already taking too long and he felt it was his fault. Tarkin had insisted on a formal change-of-command ceremony to show the Moffs who really was in charge and at the beginning of the week Yos had been all for it. Now, however, on the morning of the slave rig's employment he felt precious time was being wasted.
In complete silence the first man came forward and handed Fleet Admiral Yos the baton of his office and saluted. Yos would reach forward and take the offered end of the baton and return the salute and the baton of each of the officers in turn. It harkened back to older ceremonies in the Old Republic where a commander would figuratively give over the symbol of their squadron and the officer who received it would return it in a show that stated he was in command of that man. As Bacara received his baton back and stepped back into rank with the other two, Yos turned to face the assembled crowd. He was now in effective control of all four fleets.

Yos had planned for a longer speech, but his gaze caught the sight of a large chromo on the back of the hanger wall. It was just over an hour before Commander Yutu downloaded the slave rig into the nav computers of the fleet, and these officers needed to return to their ships. He could imagine the crews of their shuttles performing pre-flight checks in the crowded Beta Hanger next door waiting for the order to rush their officers and Moffs home. The Moffs in question stared at him from the front row. Seco seemed to be enjoying the pomp of the ceremony, while Kuat just appeared annoyed with the waste of time. Culter of course looked distracted as always.

"Officers and crewmen of Tarkin's Fist, I come before you today as your new commander. Many of you already know this Fleet's historical mission. We are to act as the invisible shield of Tarkin's super battle station. We are to be the guarantee of life for what has been dubbed the Death Star. Beyond that mission, with the help of Moff Culter, Moff Kuat and the tens of thousands of researchers on board our ships, we are to usher in a new era of scientific achievement. Many of you have brought your families on board with great risk, and I will tell you something you have not heard in a very long while. Serve your ships, not an Emperor that will be unable to touch you upon entering the maw, but serve them instead, for your beings that you bring along, and the future we can promise them."

"You are all my crew from this day forward. No longer are you Kuati or Denonian or Alderaanian, but from this day forth you will be the Beings of the Maw. Tarkin has given us the power to be heard, even though we must be silent over the next few years until we are called forth once again. We have the population aboard this fleet to staff and crew an even larger Death Star if we so choose." Yos looked at the chromo again and realized he was going to have to cut his speech short.
"I hereby accept command of this fleet." One of the honor guard stormtroopers hefted Yos's own banner higher than the other three until it matched the Imperial one "Serve me well and I will also serve you. Fail me and you not only fail this fleet, but the lives of those you love. Remember the motto of the Imperial Navy and keep it with you 'Service. Fealty. Fidelity'." He let the silence sink in for a second, "Dismissed." The orderly ranks shattered and there was a bit of a crunch at the airlock leading out of the hanger. All three Moffs came forward and shook his hand in congratulations. The other Admirals also came up from behind him and complimented him on the ceremony.

"Not as long as some I've seen." Moff Seco derided, "But nice none the less"

"Yes, I didn't even get stiff in my joints like I have at some of these things." Admiral Bacara agreed.

"I thought I'd better cut it short, Admiral Bacara. Commander Yutu's not going to wait forever before plugging that device in. In fact you men better be getting back to your own squadrons." As if to add credence to his order the first of the shuttles rocketed out of the nearby Beta Hanger heading for it's own ship. Some officers had gotten out rather fast, he thought.

"I couldn't agree more, Fleet Admiral," Kuat said shaking his hand, "There are things for all of us to attend to before the launch."

"Remember no experiments until we arrive in the maw, Kuat." Yos had fought the older Moff over experimentation before they arrived in the maw. Yos was concerned with operational security, while the Kuati was concerned with the fragility of some of his time sensitive experimentations. Yos, as commander of Tarkin's Fist, had won the argument.

"Of course, Admiral, we wouldn't want anything to interfere with this frightening leap into the unknown." Kuat and Culter excused themselves with their pet Admirals following close behind. It was now forty-five minutes till the launch of the slave rig. He really should have done this ceremony the day before he thought.

"You could have done it right yesterday." Seco eerily seemed to be reading his thoughts.

"Yes, I suppose your right." Yos started walking towards the door with the Ploo Moff at his side. The honor guard was left behind to roll up and stow the separate banners. Yos hoped someone remembered to return them to their individual commands once they arrived at their destination.

"Do you think she'll do it?" Seco asked.

"Captain Daala, you mean?"

"Tarkin's ordered her to defend the maw with her life and the lives of her men."

"I heard at the first sign of trouble she's to blow up the maw installation. You know that's where Tarkin's stashed Bevel Lemelisk." Yos informed him

"The Death Star architect?" Yos nodded the affirmative. As he entered the hallway that lead from Alpha Hanger to Beta he heard the chief petty officers dismiss the ranks of enlisted they had assembled for the ceremony. Thirty seconds later they stood in front of the airlock leading to Beta Hanger. Half a dozen aides had already found him and waited patiently with their last minute details, for the Admiral to finish speaking with the Moff.

"It's going to be alright, Vulnert." The man's eyebrow rose at the mention of his first name and it was obvious it had been a long time since he'd been addressed in such a manner. "Tarkin's given us the code to broadcast on all channels the moment we arrive in the maw. She's not crazy from what I understand. She'll stand down."

"I hope so, Aveo," Seco took liberties when it suited him; "The Quill will be at the lead of our heavy assault line when we arrive. If Daala is able to blast upon even one ship of our Fleet it will be that one."

"If I go down I have left instructions on who is to succeed me, and the Grand Moff has already confirmed them." Seco leaned in with anticipation. "No, they are only to be known on the occasion of my passing. It is time for you to be on your way, my friend." Yos stumbled out the unfamiliar address.

"Indeed, at your leisure, my Commander."

"Granted. Now return to your crew." Both men turned to leave their separate ways. Seco really did have to get back to his ship and dallied only long enough to probe for answers from the Fleet Admiral. Yos himself was mobbed by junior officers looking for clarification on some matter or another. Yos signed this datapad or approved twenty different measures before he arrived at the bridge.

"Admiral has the Bridge." He announced as he entered his sanctum and the swarm of junior officers flitting around him melted away.

"All is on course and we just launched the last shuttle, sir." The ship's captain reported. Captain Nake was a good man who had served under Yos for years in the Subterrel.
"Good, sound general quarters." An alarm bell chirped throughout the ship as thousands of sailors ran to their stations.

"Commander Yutu!"

"Here, sir." The young officer answered.

"Is the slave rig ready?"

"Ready and awaiting your command." Yos had known that to be true for almost four standard days now. It had been just a matter of getting the Fleet together and loaded rather than waiting for the computer program to download. "Captain Nake, what's the status of those shuttles we launched."

"The last one should be docking with Moff Seco's Flagship the Wilderness in about six minutes."
"Excellent. Alert all Commands we will be uploading the slave rig in seven standard minutes." Yos barked at his bridge crew.

"Yes, sir. Any wagers on when it engages?" Nake inquired.

Yos sat down in the captain's chair. His eyes never left the HoloVid of the Fleet's green lit positions. "I still say four standard hours. It took Kuat's three hours to upload it in their systems, but they didn't use Imperial Research's nav computers and we're considerably a much larger Fleet now. So four hours sounds like a safe bet." The Admiral and his crew waited in silence as the time passed. When the chromo on the bridge showed the right time Yutu turned to him and the Admiral signaled the go ahead with a nod.

Fifteen minutes passed. "Slave rig has been successfully downloaded."

"Congratulations, Commander." Yos rose from his chair.

"It is currently at one percent completion." This was going to take awhile Yos thought.

"Captain Nake, you have the Bridge. Notify me when we engage the hyperdrive." Yos turned towards the door leading to the flag deck. The old Admiral went up the stairs leading to his quarters. Once there he was disappointed to see the absence of his daughter, but remembered that she had said she would be at the blasting range on board with some of the ship's compliment. Someday soon she would have other younglings her own age to be around he thought, but for now those dependents were safely tucked away aboard transports and away from Phasma's friendship. He kept himself busy working on the ship's log and updating himself on current supply levels throughout the Fleet. It was three hours later that his personal comlink rang from the bridge. Yos thought he had felt the difference in the vibrations of his floor when the hyperdrive engines took over from the sublight ones.

Yos entered the bridge once again and was greeted by a small storm of activity.
"Status, Captain?" he yelled out. Across the forward viewport was the tunnel of hyperspace and miracle of light-streaked stars which Yos had always felt as soothing.

"All ships are tracking and on course. Every one of them launched their hyperdrives at the same exact second." The officer reported.

"Excellent, how long until we arrive at our destination?"

"Six and a half hours, Admiral." The ship's navigator yelled out from the crew pit below. That seemed a long time to reach the maw, but he knew that the Fleet was only traveling at the speed of its slowest hyperdrives aboard some of the large cargo haulers behind the Quill.

Everything was going according to plan. Yos was full of anticipation for his Fleet's arrival. He looked down at the weapon officer's monitor below him and made sure the Quill's main turrets were fully powered up.
Commander Yutu tried to get his attention. "Admiral, there's something wrong with the nav computer."
Yos felt a lurch and then everything went black.
--------------------------------------------
Command Bridge, Acclamator II-class Assault Ship Fool, Horuz System

Cody kept his legs stiff as he stretched out his lower back muscles by turning side to side and then cracked his neck the same way. He stood near a blue-uniformed vod, who manned the Flight Control station on the Fool's bridge, and watched the monitor as Bacara's Theta class shuttle made its return approach. The clone bridge crew around him wore the old Republic Fleet uniforms they had grown accustomed to during the War. So many of them had been transferred out of the Imperial Navy at the conclusion of hostilities that Bacara had no problems finding the specialists and technicians he needed to man these old Acclamators of his.

Clone Admiral Commander was still such a weird concept for Cody to get his mind around. The rest of the Clone Marshal's had debated Bacara's peculiar new rank when Inteligence Director Isard had commissioned it a few years ago and had come to many infinite conclusions about the event. Alone with his own command was something they had never completely trained for. On Kamino they had been trained to pair up with a Jedi general and follow his every command. Clones wouldn't appreciate all that they were fighting for and wouldn't recognize the importance of certain objectives to an enemy, the Kaminoans had taught. On the other hand, Jedi were beings of great wisdom and judgment and were therefore uniquely qualified to lead the clones. It hadn't quite turned out that way, Cody remembered. Jedi got clones killed by the thousands, fully immersed in their strong moral code they still had been more than happy to use a slave army as they saw fit. And it had bitten the Old Republic in the shebs in the end.

Cody had ordered the attack on General Kenobi in the opening moments of the great Jedi purge, the Republic's stab at revenge for the cult's betrayal. CC-2224 still swore to this day, that even through the dust and enemy blasts on that battlefield at Utapau, he saw the AT-TE that had blasted on the Jedi, catch him square in the back. Those damn recce droids never did find a body though, and to this day he occasionally lost sleep over possibly failing to follow through with his orders. Time would tell, he told himself.

He looked across the bridge at his friend Bly, who manned the station with him and sported a Jedi's lightsaber hooked onto his utility belt. On board the Fool the uniform of the day was definitely Clone War's issue. Bly wore the white Phase II armor that had been issued after Geonosis, it still sported the olive-yellow colored legion markings of Bly's old unit. He sported an olive command pauldron, kama, and polarized macrobinoculars in the upright position. It was the presence of a pair of Krayt Dragon Pearl handled DC-17 hand blasters that really set his uniform apart. Cody noted the viciously beautiful weapons every time they were in the room with him.

The other Clone Marshal with them was CC-8826, or Neyo as ARC-17 had dubbed him back in their training days. Neyo wore specialized BARC trooper armor with red Imperial markings that he had changed from the Republic ones he used to sport. His helmet was equipped with an enhanced breathing unit for oxygen processing at high speeds and he sported the old ARC command sash across his chest to show he had survived old ARC-17's course. Neyo was the only Clone Marshal he knew that still wore the di'kutla thing. Neyo wasn't armed with anything more than a force baton across his back, and Cody figured that was more than enough for bridge duty. Cody suddenly remembered his vod owned a lightsaber that he had taken from some renegade Jedi on Saleucami if he remembered right. He wondered why Neyo didn't exhibit his trophy like his other vod Bly. Cody pondered the thousands of individual way clones truly weren't identical, like the rest of the galaxy had assumed.

They had survived he thought, but for how long. The clones around him were already showing signs of upper middle age. Better to spill your tal on the field of battle, Cody figured, than to simply fade away, but he knew Bacara thought differently, and in this so-called Tarkin's Fist that was what mattered the most. The only times Cody could see his point was when he walked the halls of the Fool and saw the younglings of the clones at play. Yes, maybe his vode did deserve a future brighter than the one those blasted Kaminoans had left them.

"CAC-1138's shuttle is docking right now, Commander." The flight control clone informed him. His proclamation cut off Cody's silent contemplation.

"Jate, I was wondering if he would stay for the reception or not. Sip caf and talk gossip with the other Admirals. Maybe he'll have a slice of cake." The officer laughed at the image of Bacara socializing. The Clone Admiral had to have been the most stoic, introspective, quiet man the aiwha-lovers back on Kamino had ever created. If Bacara hadn't been the brilliant commander he was, Cody doubted he would have ever gotten his command rank.

The next few minutes were spent joking with the other two Marshals and their veteran bridge crew. Cody knew he would fight and die for anyone of them if he had to. He suddenly had a flash of the men would weren't making the trip along with them. His partner through training Gree, who had helped Cody with underwater assault training, and had been found beheaded in the woods of Kashyyyk after the big battle there during the final day of the War. Good old Appo who loved to get into trouble with the Kaminoans by greasing the hallways of Tipoca City. Appo had led the 501st in the assault on the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, but had fallen in service to Darth Vader a year after that. His thoughts went to his old nemesis Thire who took special pleasure in informing the Kaminoans anytime one of his fellow Marshals needed disciplinary action. Thire led the red-clad shock troops that protected the Emperor, and the last Cody had heard, Thire had disappeared into the dreaded Coruscant Guard. Cody had been relieved when Bacara had decided not to tap the services of that particular clone for this trip.

Bacara himself strolled onto the Command Bridge as Cody was finishing his thought. He walked along side Clone Captain Wolffe, another good clone who had been thrown out of the Imperial Navy like the rest of the clones, and who had now found new duty to perform under CAC-1138. Bacara himself had changed into his Clone War armor during his return flight from the Quill, but had his helmet tucked underneath his arm. The helmet itself was the type that had been developed for the Galactic Marines to fight through cold weather conditions, it also had an open front much like hovertank drivers wore. Bacara additionally adorned his uniform with a purple kama and pauldron as well as a Jedi's weapon tucked into a compartment on his left thigh plate. A souvenior Bacara had pried from the dead hands of Ki-Adi-Mundi on Mygeeto. Bacara nodded a greeting to each of the men. As the Clone Admiral he had assigned four Clone Marshals to each of the five Acclamators that flew in Moff Culter's squadron. On board his ships he had a Clone legion that was roughly the size of three stormtrooper legions, but with the help of Isard they had been able to hide their true numbers.

"How was the party, sir?" Bly asked

"Wasn't much of one, more Empire nonsense was all." Bacara answered.
"Got to rub shoulders with the new Fleet Admiral though, right?" Cody asked, getting answers from Bacara was usually like pulling a Gundark's teeth.

Captain Wolffe spoke for Bacara instead. "Yes, we saw him, good man. Kicked Seperatist shebs during the War and hasn't spent a lot of time kissing any since then. He served in the Victory fleet under Dodanna and then the Empire forgot all about the man after Palps dumped him in the Subterrel."

"But isn't he Tarkin's man?" Neyo asked.

"Yeah, but I think the man's first duty will be to the fleet. He's brought his ad'ika along. The little brat's actually an Imperial Cadet; we got a look at her at the ceremony." Wolffe explained while Bacara listened to his friends in silence, as was his style, every once in a while he would check the FleetNet comm station for activity.

"And," Bly pleaded.

"O, she'll be a nice piffer when she comes of age, she's ten you know, looks like some sort of Imperial princess that one." Wolffe explained. Bly looked disappointed.

"Just so long as she doesn't lead any clones I won't have any issues with the girl." Neyo coldly warned.
"I hear that. There are a couple of Zeltron girls on board who I wouldn't mind serving under. Their sister's married to a pilot in 3-3 squadron." Bly remarked.

"I've seen 'em, not bad." Cody added. Bacara smiled at them. "It's Twileks and Falleen for me." CC-2224 continued.
"Or'dinii we've got more than enough Twilek girls on board, we've got Twileks of every color coming out of our ears. I haven't seen any Falleen, but what we need to do is pair up and chat up those Zeltron piffers. A couple of good looking clones in our Marshal's uniforms and we can't lose." Bly pleaded his case. Cody wondered if his aversion to cute Twileks came from his having cut one down during Order 66.

"What about me?" Neyo asked innocently.

"You find your own piffers. Twileks would love a quiet guy like you, they don't know any better." The clones all laughed as Neyo's face turned a shade of pink.

"How about you, sir? When we get all set up in the maw, you most of all deserve a little distraction." Bly asked, but only got a fierce stare from Bacara. "Alright, maybe not. How about you, Wolffe?" Cody was starting to think it must have been a while since Bly had met any girls, as he checked his stations of responsibility with a quick glance over his shoulder.
"Slave rig up loading, sirs!" The clones at the FleetNet station and the nav computer echoed each other. Wolffe turned and walked over to check the data stream flowing across the nav computer's monitors.

"Vod, I've already got a wife. She's a beautiful Jabiimi who loves to cook me dinner and root against whichever limmie team I'm cheering for. I've got more than enough to keep me happy. Now if you'll excuse me, duty calls." Wolffe said and walked over to Bacara's position on the bridge.

"Does she have a sister?" Bly yelled at the man's back.

It was finally happening; the safe haven that the thousands of clones had hoped and dreamed of was slowly becoming a reality. Within forty-eight standard hours they would finally be free of a Galaxy that had bred them, enslaved them, abused them, and finally abandoned them. They had been promised to be treated as equals once they reached the maw, and they were bringing along enough firepower to insure that it happened. Below deck they carried every make of craft and walker that had served in the Grand Army of the Republic as well as the new vehicles that served the Empire, Cody wondered which would serve him better if he had to lead them into combat somewhere in the maw. Ten years was the approximate time they had been given before Tarkin would again call them forth to wage war amongst the stars. He would probably physically be in his sixties or seventies by then along with the rest of the other clones. It would be up to them to train the next generation for combat.

Hours passed as the old friends and colleges joked with each other about females, battlefields, friends they had left behind, and of course what their preferred form of torture would be if they ever came across a Kaminoan again. Even the lowest ranked clones on the bridge had an opinion about that subject.

The fleet seemed to be picking up speed as it headed out of the Horuz. Cody had taken his helmet off several times during the general conversation and was in the act of replacing it when the message chime went off. His fellow Marshals all seemed to be getting the same message and Captain Wolffe checked his datapad at the same time. It must be Moff Culter breaking comm blackout again Cody figured as he opened the message.

The electronic mail item was an encrypted time release message. Cody groaned. Who would go through the trouble of bothering with that except ISB perhaps? He figured the mail read "Gotcha" on it, right before agents busted down his door. A second message chime rang and Cody noticed it had the same address as the first. "Good luck and good hunting, ner vod. K.S." What the heck does that mean he wondered? He had a strange idea who might have sent it, but thought the idea too ridiculous after so many years. Bacara and Neyo both removed their buckets next to him and gave him a quizzical look. No man mentioned the messages again.

"We are jumping into hyperspace." Wolffe announced from the helm.
The five vode walked to the transperisteel viewport at the front of the bridge and watched the ethereal lightshow pass by. Bacara turned to each man and shook their hand. "Brothers, we did it. Long live the Clones." It was an odd expression. Cody didn't have long to ponder it

The ship gave a sudden lurch forward and CC-2224 slammed his helmet into the viewport. After that jolt, the bridge was suddenly plunged into darkness.

Beta Hanger, Imperial II-class SD Quill, Maw Defense Fleet, Horuz Sector

"It'll be just a moment, your Lordship. It seems we are third in line for departure." The female Kuati shuttle pilot explained to him.

"That is fine, Nissa, We can stand a little wait every now and then, so long as you return the Kuat of Kuat to the Third Fleet, before the big hyperspace jump this morning." Kuantus rarely had a chance to use the royal 'We' these days. His son was officially the new Kuat of Kuat and he was officially . . . well . . . deceased. He had stuffed his research vessels with so many scientists from every corner of the galaxy that it was rare that he found himself surrounded entirely by his own Kuati people anymore. The shuttle ride back to the Kuat's Might was one of those occasions. Sitting with him were his aides Niobe and Gage along with Kuati Admiral Tib Hadrian of the Third Kuati System Fleet.

"I must say, your Lordship," His Admiral started their light conversation, as Kuantus pondered for a minute what it would be like when he resurrected in a decade, still alive and kicking and with another Kuat still head of the Board of Directors of KDY. Should be an interesting time he concluded, and left it at that, before turning to acknowledge the Admiral beside him. "It should be an overwhelming engagement this evening if that Captain Daala fires upon Tarkin's Fist when we arrive." Hadrian stated. The Admiral had the right to be excited as the Kuati Navy hadn't fought an engagement in centuries; they had even sat out the Clone Wars.

"Yes, Admiral, the data from any possible battle will be incorporated into the next generation of starship designs. What are the dangers to my laboratory and research vessels?"

"Fleet Admiral Yos has them positioned in the heart of the Fleet along with Moff Culter's terraforming orbital stations. The chances of Daala being able to attack them directly are extremely small."

"That is extremely relieving to hear, Admiral. We must admit We haven't spent much attention to the operations of the Fleet as We probably should have. We have problematic issues with the duties of a Moff."

"It's no Kuat of Kuat, your Lordship." Niobe added to the conversation.

"Hardly." Kuat snorted. He reached up and took off his formal Kuati turban that showed his official rank insignia in the forefront of the headwear. He scratched his head as his hair always became irritated when he wore the thing. He had his assistant Gage take a HoloVid of him in his finery during the ceremony. He secretly planned on sending it to his son a second before the Fleet jumped to hyperspace. Fleet Admiral's orders be damned, he thought.

Yos had met with all of the Moffs several times over the course of the past week. He had made it a point that they would be expected to attend weekly briefings on board the Quill once they arrived in the maw. That was fine as long as the officer also made it a point to stay out of his affairs as well. So far he hadn't, he had ordered a full cessation of experimentation and exploration while the Fleet had amassed. For three days now Kuantus hadn't been able to try a single experiment. He felt as if he was falling behind, and time spent at the drawing tables wasn't the same as getting one's hands dirty with scientific exploration. Thirty thousand of the finest thinkers ever gathered together were collectively twiddling their thumbs while the Navy took its time launching a slave rig program that had already been successfully attempted by a Kuati fleet. It was extremely frustrating until Niobe had mentioned how busy Fleet Admiral Yos would be with the ceremony, the hyperspace jump, and the upcoming battle that he might miss some of the activities of his own fleet.

Kuantus saw his revenge, and had ordered the immediate activation of several projects, with a full commencement of research as soon as they reached the maw, while he was loading his shuttle earlier this morning. It felt thrilling to stick it to a superior, Kuat happily mused, and he'd have to remember to do it more often. The thought of scientific achievement and advancement got him out of his sleeper in the morning. Already new starship and weapon designs danced through his thoughts. The fleet that emerged from its hiding spot within the maw in a decade's time would be vastly unrecognizable to the Galaxy at large. Yos was slowing all of that down, stubborn old dewback, Kuantus thought.

The shuttle lifted off and the artificial gravity of the hanger pushed Kuantus back into his seat, before the shuttle inertial dampers adjusted. "We are clear of Beta Hanger, Lordship. ETA to the Kuat's Might is fourteen minutes." Nissa throttled down the underside of the Quill and was soon clear of its superstructure.

"I wonder why Yos calls it Beta Hanger. Every other Imperial ship I've been on always calls it the Assault Hanger." Hadrian asked no one in particular.

"I feel the Admiral has a flair for the classics." Gage observed. His two aides had accompanied him on every meeting with the officer, and which had offered the chance for insight into Yos's behavior. His aide had been one of the top sociologists back home on Kuat, and had served as a sounding board for the Kuat ever since he had hired him.

"We think so too. That ceremony was a page torn from Palpatine's playbook. Reminded me of those opera's my sister Onara loved to attend." The other Kuati's cringed, as Kuantus had forgotten just how unpopular a ruler his sibling had been. "Bored me to tears, We are afraid."

"At least you didn't have to subjugate yourself, my Lordship. It was humiliating to hand over my command to a non-Kuati." Hadrian whined.

"Yes, it would have been interesting to have seen what Moff Seco in particular would have done if we Moffs also had to hand over the symbols of our Imperial offices. I wouldn't have minded as the title of Moff means nothing to me. It was just Palpatine's way of placating KDY a few years ago. I think though that the title is all Moff Seco holds dear to himself. We don't trust the man and We would do well to keep an eye on that one."
"And what of the Fleet Admiral?" Hadrian asked.

"Besides his tampering? We believe We can trust the man. He will serve Tarkin's Fist till the end, and that includes the Third Fleet. Will you serve the Denonian, Admiral?"

"I believe so, his service record if not his reputation is impressive, and he personally is hard to dislike. I'm surprised that we hadn't heard of him before we launched our plans, but my Captains are taking a liking to Yos's command style as well, so it should be fascinating to find out how it all plays out." His Admiral explained. Kuantus decided fleet operations were beneath him and dull besides, much like politics. He would mind his own business as long as Yos minded his.

The rest of the flight was spent in discussion of the ceremony, especially the stormtrooper armor that had been present. Admiral Hadrian and Niobe had a few improvements to suggest for those. Kuat made a mental note to suggest some of them to the experimental armorers and plastoidsmiths he had brought along amongst his fleet. He could probably equip every trooper with updated armor within the year. He would start with the Kuati Legions first of course.

"We are approaching the Kuat's Might. You should be able to disembark momentarily." the pilot informed the group. As soon as the shuttle passed through the hanger's shield his message chime rang out on his datapad. He eagerly pulled the device out of his robes; with the communication blackout in place he had no way of keeping track of the ship's experiments while he wasn't on board. Several dozen messages waited for him and his aides were busy sorting them out on their own datapads. The shuttle thumped down and Kuat exited just as the landing ramp touched down. Several crewmen around the hanger raised their arms in the traditional Kuati military salute. Admiral Hadrian returned the salutes as Kuat was too distracted with his experiment updates to pay the crewmen any mind. The Admiral excused himself and headed to the command bridge of the starship, while Kuat of Kuat headed to his executive office trailed by his two aides. The ground crew was left behind to secure the shuttle as a giant durasteel shutters closed the hanger away from open space.
When the three Kuati entered Kuat's quarters Kuantus immediately ordered the activation of his expensively large HoloVid. "Contact lab BG3 first if you will be so kind, Niobe." His assistant's fingers flew over the controls and several Ithorian scientists suddenly erupted into life.

"Greetings, Kuat of Kuat" the lead botanist greeted him. He had found the hammerhead male teaching Plant Genetics at Ottega University on Ithor and quadrupled the scientist's wages if he came along on their project. It was the promise of unlimited funds and resources for his experiments that had convinced the Ithorian. "The pollination of the fruit plants of Dathomir has been a success. Once we have them planted on one of the greenhouse starships we should be able to triple their food output within two growing seasons."

"That is excellent, Tieppo, please continue to keep We, I mean me, informed of all your progress." Kuat felt exhilarated. The Ithorian project was actually the smallest one the hammerhead ran. He was currently running a project with Kashyyyk wheat and dust corn on another research starship that would effectively end starvation throughout the Galaxy. That would probably also be a great boon to the Fleet in the barren region of the maw, until that Moff Culter got around to terraforming it.

Kuat's opinion of Culter had been strange, as a fellow scientist he felt Culter's methods were too slow and couldn't see himself in orbit around a planet for years crafting biomes and climates. It just didn't have the instant results that Kuat yearned for. To each their own, he figured.

He spent the next few hours checking on the experiments on board his own flagship, before his last call was made. Real scientific breakthroughs were on the horizon and he couldn't wait to get started.
"Your Lordship, Admiral Hadrian says that the jump to hyperspace should take place any minute." Niobe informed him.
"Are We still alongside the Discovery?" he asked, knowing full well he had Hadrian place the Kuat's Might alongside that particular orbital laboratory for the duration of the journey. Niobe nodded. Then activate the Laser Aimed Flash Ship to Ship commo and connect me with Doctor Falken at once."

His two aides frantically punched in the orders to connect to the starship on their port side. A beautiful blonde woman in a lab coat rose from the HoloVid. "Hello, Kuat of Kuat." Selenax Falken greeted him with an upper-class Coruscanti accent.
"What is the status of the Gravitic Polarization Beam?"
"We are ready to go," Several other physicists moved around a large machine behind her, "We're just waiting for the slave rig to engage."

"When do you estimate you will first activate the device, Doctor?" This would be their only chance to test out the device while in hyperspace for another decade and they couldn't miss the chance.

"It will be a six hour journey to the Kessel system and another twenty minutes to pass through the maw, so we have decided to fire the GPB once every ten standard minutes, with the prime activation a few moments after the jump." The Gravitic Polarization Beam was the thing every physicist dreamed of at night. In theory the beam weapon arrested molecules at an atomic level, causing them to allegedly cause a rip in space or a possible wormhole in realspace. The thing had yet to have a test and Kuantas had decided to run its first trial in hyperspace as it would be their one and only chance. A weapon that created wormholes would rule the Galaxy Kuat thought.

"You may precede, Doctor. Record every bit of data for We are very excited to see the results of your team's labors. We must close this commo channel, before the Fleet Admiral discovers us."

"Yes, Sir, Thank you, your Lordship." The connection was cut.

Admiral Hadrian's figure appeared next in the HoloVid. "I'm not going to ask what that was about, my Kuat of Kuat, but I will inform you that the Fleet has just made the jump to Hyperspace."

"Excellent, Admiral. Continue to keep us informed of any developements." Niobe cut the connection to the bridge, as Kuat checked his chrono. Only three hours this time for the slave rig to engage, he wondered why it had been so quick with a larger fleet. He sat in the chair behind his immense personal desk and spun around to gaze out of his viewport at the passing hyperspace distortion. He knew he wouldn't be able to see the starship on the port side, but he focused in that direction anyways in the hope of being the first to look upon an actual wormhole.
For a second he thought he had fallen asleep, as all the hyperspace stars disappeared, but instead the universe simply went black.
------------------------------------------------------------
Crew Billets H-27, Weapon's Locker; Imperial I class SD Insertion

The veteran sergeant had heard rumors of an illegal Sabacc game somewhere below decks and he figured his errant troopers couldn't be far from it. On most vessels stormtroopers didn't have a whole lot to keep themselves occupied while on board. When they were first formed into a corps they had been thrown into battle as army units, but after the mopping up operations following the Clone Wars they had more and more found themselves acting as naval marine units. Instead of patrolling garrisons like army troops did, the stormtroopers prowled the bowels and decks of these monstrous Star Destroyers.

For sure, there was some duty for them, guarding weapons lockers and the reactors on board. Some ship's captains even used them for bodyguards, but for the most part the only thing stormtroopers could do was stare at the warship's bulkheads day after day. Training schedules had been set up, and SF-4738 had gone through a rigorous hand-to-hand session the night before. Lieutenant Mahan was still sporting a nice shiner on his left eye from grappling with an evotrooper corporal, and he wore it with pride. On most ships SF-4738 had served on, the Loot would have been reprimanded for fraternization with the men, but the chain-of-command in this so-called Tarkin's Fist seemed to pay it no mind. He'd even heard of some stormtrooper NCOs on other ships nearby getting their 2nd Lieutenant squares over the past few days. He'd never heard of that before.

When Mahan had the platoon turn out in the morning a few of his boys were absent. Extra duty was usually the punishment for such an infraction if the perpetrator had a good excuse, but today they were expecting possible action and such absence was inexcusable. Mahan hadn't been aware of the platoon's missing troopers because SF-4738 reported that all were present. The young Lieutenant led the men through a weapons and armor cleaning detail. SF-4738 told his three corporals to keep an eye on things and asked Mahan to excuse him as he had something to look into regarding the platoon's meals.

"Sure, Sarge, if you think I can handle it here?" The young officer looked up from his own blaster pistol, looking for approval from the old NCO.

"Oh, yes, sir. All you have to do is make sure you check everyone's weapons for grit and that their plastoid is nice and shiny. You can probably dismiss the men in about an hour and a half. Just make sure they keep busy and don't frak around too much."

"Sounds good. Um, Sarge . . ." The Lieutenant looked like he had a question that was trying to burst out from his insides.
SF-4738 tucked his helmet under his arm. Someone behind him dropped a barrel of an E-Web unto the floor, and a couple of other troopers laughed at the man. "If you are worried about your first action, son, I'm here to tell you that you did just fine against those bugs the other day."

"Yeah, but they weren't shooting back at us."

"Tell that to that scout trooper they chewed up." SF-4738 tried to give the Loot a reassuring smile. "Besides it will be mainly a ship-to-ship action, and that's only if Daala doesn't stand down. The vacheads in the Fleet will have to handle it." He said, referring to the sailors that crewed the Star Destroyers.

"This Captain Daala, she's out numbered something like fifty four to four when it comes to Star Destroyers."
"Yeah, but we've got some pretty old-classes of ships out there, and she'll have an advantage as we come out of hyperspace. Still, I guess I'm pretty sure she'll see reason once we arrive. She hasn't got any ground forces besides those on her ships that I'm aware of. So there won't be much for us Shinies to do."

"That's astral, Sarge, um, did you have something you had to do."

"At your pleasure, sir." He placed his helmet back on his head and performed a mock bow from the days of the Old Republic."
Mahan snorted. "Dismissed, Sergeant." SF-4738 took his leave and left the platoon's billets.

He made his way past dozens of other platoon billets and wondered how long before the sirens and alarms blared calling them all to battle stations. There were 9700 stormtroopers on board and they were all billeted in roughly the same area near the attack hanger decks. The only ones located closer were the TIE Pilot barracks. A lot of extra equipment had been packed on board and some of it had been stored in the ship's hallways and walkways. SF-4738 thought it was going to be shear chaos when the alarms went off.

He found the central turbolifts and rode one back to the Main Engine Turbine room. He got off and was greeted by the sight and hum of the massive drives as they drove the starship through the Horuz. The thing must have been about the size of a skyhook back on Imperial Center. He grabbed an engineering seaman who was passing by and asked the man if he had noticed any lost stormtroopers down here. The man said he hadn't seen anyone, but then he put his finger to the side of his nose and bent it. He told SF-4738 he might have better luck between the port side anti-resonance plates. The man passed on, but SF-4738 understood the hint.

It was another twenty minutes of walking and ducking under pipes and wires of the engineering sector. He had to backtrack around the portside backup engine reactor and weave himself between the port turret traverse motors of the ship's big turbolasers. Halfway there he heard the sublight engines shift as they picked up more speed and the hyperdrive bunkers near him started to make a strange stirring noise. SF-4738 was no engineer and so he moved on. He started to wonder how many power sources the Insertion had when he traveled around the subsidiary reactors. Black suited gunners and engineering crew gave him an odd look whenever he passed through their stations. Troopers like him were an odd sight this deep in the bowels of the warship.

Finally he came to the anti-resonance plates and walked between them swiveling his head back and forth to look down the rows of them. Before long he heard what he was looking for well before he saw it. Laughter of men and the mechanical chatter of a service droid of some sort caught his ear and he headed straight for it.

A group of a dozen men and a woman in an assistant gunner's uniform surrounded a droid that was dealing out Sabacc cards to them. Amongst the group sat two stormtroopers in their black fatigues, with several large denomination credits sitting in front of them. He walked up behind them, for a second he thought the gaze of the other crewmen would give him away. SF-4738 grabbed both men's head and conked them together with an audible smack. The men around the table laughed.

"Your luck's run out, boys" An engineering sergeant laughed at SF-4738's men.

"Ow, Sarge, you don't need to be so rough" HF-3105 complained rubbing the side of his head.
"Grab your winnings, troopers we're leaving." SF-4738 ordered and JN-6166 bent forward and scooped the credits from the table."

"Hey, Sergeant, at least give us the chance to win our credits back." The female crewman pleaded.

"Sorry, sailor, these two have duty elsewhere." The ease with which he yanked the two stormtroopers from their seats gave everyone around the table pause if they were considering intervening. He shoved the two troopers ahead of him as they passed out of the row created by the giant plates around them. The Sabacc game resumed behind them as soon as they were gone.

They came to a quiet spot amongst the turbolaser turret auxiliary power cells where SF-4738 called for them to stop. He had time in their short journey to decide just how he was going to deal with these two. He wasn't going to turn them over to ship security or report them to lieutenant. No, this had to be dealt with at the platoon level.

"Sarge, sorry about all that, we've been playing since late last night and the time got away from us is all." JN-6166 explained.

"You saw our winnings, Sarge. We couldn't just walk away from that." HF-3105 intervened.

"Yeah, boss, those Engineers saw a couple of us Boys in White and took us for a couple of scruffy-looking abos. We showed them, didn't we Thad." Both men let out chuckles showing how pleased with themselves they were.

"You didn't think you'd be needed. That imminent action was at hand. That your platoon was going need you." SF-4738's voice rose with his anger from somewhere deep within his chest.

"Come on, Sarge, if there's going to be a battle it's not going to involve us." HF-3105 explained. "This whole battle and garrison duty inside the maw is going to be a blue milk run followed by years of boredom.
"Yeah, Tarkin's not going to sic this Fleet on the girlfriend he's got tucked away in that maw thingy. Not unless she really deserved it."

"You two know way too much about fleet ops."

"It's all about whom you know, Sarge."

"So what do you two suggest we do about this little infraction of yours?" he asked, not really thinking they'd come up with a solution on their own.

HF-3105 was the first one to speak, and he did it as meekly as he could. "Well we could forget it just this once, Sarge."
HF-3105 never saw the NCO move. All HF-3105 ever felt was the bottom of SF-4738 boot upon his forehead and he was out. JN-6166 swore he must have blinked because one second he was standing behind his friend and the next his buddy's boots were in front of him followed by a sickening thud. Before the hapless trooper could blink again SF-4738's hand was on his throat and JN-6166 was swinging towards the deck. His motion stopped just inches before his face smashed into the grated floor. SF-4738 had his arm in a lock that JN-6166 was sure he'd never break.

JN-6166 tried to get HF-3105 attention but his friend was out for the count. SF-4738 laid the trooper down gently on the deck and switched his grip to JN-6166's hand. JN-6166 screamed in pain.

The Sergeant leaned close to the trooper's ear. "Now here's what we're going to do. We are going to treat this upcoming

mission of ours like it's the real thing." He gave JN-6166's hand a twinge and the man yelped. "No matter how boring it sounds. We're also going to fall in every time the Loot asks us to, and not be scattered all over Palpatine knows where. Got it?"

"Got it, Sergeant." JN-6166 squealed. SF-4738 snapped his wrist just to emphasize his point. The man screamed. "Fierfek! I got it, Sarge!"

"That's astral." He spun JN-6166 around and offered him a hand getting up. The trooper nervously gave him his good hand and got to his feet. SF-4378 gave a shove to HF-3105 with his boot and received a low moan for his efforts.

"Can you make sure Thad here gets my message as well? You two can keep your winnings. Those engine crew and gunners

get paid too much as it is." JN-6166 just nodded in response. "Let's get you to a medic droid and get you in a bacta cast, you'll be ship shape in a day or two. I'm going to have to be able to depend on you two when we get to the maw understood?"

"Yes, Sarge, you can count on us." JN-6166 assured him. SF-4738 was sure the trooper was more relieved about being able to keep his money than pissed he just had his wrist bones broken.

Sometimes there was only one way the boys would listen to you. It was a lesson he had learned the hard way dozens of times in the Stormtrooper Corps. He threw HF-3105 over his shoulder and they made their way back to the lifts. He dropped them off at the MedBay near engineering and made his way back to the billets.

When he entered his platoon's shipboard home Mahan was just dismissing the platoon. The young Loot was looking pleased that he hadn't fierfeked anything up in SF-4738's absence. Then everything went black.
----------------------------------------------
Officer's Billets, Imperial II class SD- Quill, Edge of OverSector Outer

The Commander had awaken several hours before his assigned shift and listened to the low hum of the sublight drive engines taking the starship out of the Horuz. The Fleet had fully assembled sometime after midnight and Yutu had thought it wise to grab a few hours of rest before the 'big jump'. As much as he had tried to sleep, the stress and anxiety of steering the entire Fleet into one of the maw's many black holes tore at him. Several times he had contemplated taking a sleep aid, but feared sleeping through his duty in the morning.

Yutu had risen and spent a half hour staring out of his viewport at the assembled Tarkin's Fist. It was an awe-inspiring sight as he had never heard of so many starships being assembled in one system since the days of Outer Rim Sieges of the Clone Wars. To think the Emperor didn't even know that Tarkin and Isard had stolen them from right under his nose. The thought of Palpatine discovering them at this stage in their plans turned Yutu's blood cold.

Yutu rose from the viewport, he was dressed in only his shorts and a t-shirt that commemorated his graduating class from the Imperial Naval Academy on Prefsbelt IV, where he had graduated the year after the Clone Wars ended. Yutu entered his refresher and shaved himself, checking several times to make sure he was cleanly shaven. He had started a sonic shower, but thought better of it. As an officer he had the option of an actual water shower and felt that one of those would better help him focus his thoughts for the days. He stood under the warm water, letting it cascade over his shoulders, and thought of everything he could have possibly missed or forgotten about the experimental slave rig. The charts of the maw formations was ingrained in the deep recesses of his mind, and Tarkin had loaned them a personal nav computer that would check and recheck all his navigational plots in the Quill's own nav computer when he punched up the hyperjump. Everything should be fine he told himself for the hundredth time that morning. Tarkin's Fist would drop out of hyperspace before entering the maw's asteroid field, they weren't coming anywhere close to a wondering comet or star, and he was ninety percent sure Captain Daala would stand down when they entered the formation. The woman had been an explosive enigma when he had met her on his trips through the maw for the Grand Moff. He wondered how she would take the news of being relieved of command when the Fleet Admiral gave it to her.

Yutu dressed himself in the crisp brown uniform of Imperial Intelligence that he had cleaned and pressed the day before by the ship's laundry. He looked at himself in the refresher's mirror and straightened the code cylinders around his rank insignia. He wanted everything to be impeccable today, as he felt today was the day that made or broke his career. He used his sonic brush to clean his teeth and then gathered up his cap and left his quarters.

Several other officers in the hallways outside saluted as he went past. Yutu was so preoccupied with the day's events that he barely noticed the men. The truth was, outside of Signals Interception, Commander Yutu had never had the chance to make a friend or meet another colleague. The lonely life of a spy, he had told himself, was to be eternally vigilant while avoiding all personal attachment. It sounded like some nonsense one of those old Jedi would have spouted off about before the Empire had exterminated them, he told himself.

Still several hours from the up load of the slave rig, Yutu entered his inner sanctum of SigInt. First Lieutenant Knebler was already there. Yutu remembered the man had volunteered for a double shift and had picked up the night shift before coming on during the day. Second Lieutenant Murp, the regular third shift officer was there as well. It seemed that all of his crew were as excited about today as he was.

The compartment was bathed in its normal red light and over twenty crew technicians manned the stations around the compartment. State of the art HoloViewers, map readers, and communications gear filled the walls and open spaces.
"How'd you sleep. sir?" Knebler asked as he handed Yutu a warm cup of caf.
"Fitfully, you might have to add some stim sticks to this by the time the day is through." He walked with his junior officer behind the seated ranks of his crew, checking each sailor's monitor and equipment for changes in the Fleet's status.
"I hear you. sir, going to be a busy one for all of us. The communication blackout's still in effect, it's been holding for about twenty hours now."

"Even Culter?" Yutu raised an eyebrow and both men grinned. Their battle with the Moff over comm security for the past week had only been decided when the Grand Moff himself had intervened. Since then the electronic spies had imagined the
terraforming Moff as sulking on board his flagship.

"I'm as surprised as you are. sir. Will you be attending the handover ceremony this morning?" Knebler queried.

"No, I'll be a little too busy preparing the up load of the slave rig at that time. A couple of Kuat's engineers are standing by to help with the installation. Plus it'll be nothing but a bunch of pomp and bootlicking, not exactly my idea of a good time."

"That's good. Are the Kuati the one's that designed the snarkin thing?"

"Evidently, but I heard scuttlebutt that the things based on some older designs."

Knebler gave him the most concerned expression he could muster. "Not the Katana Fleet one is it?"

"I don't know, but I wouldn't bet against it."

"Space it, sir, I know you'll get us through."

"Then it's a ten year paid vacation in the maw, till Tarkin's little project is done." He really hoped the Death Star was done before that, but you never knew.

"My career in the navy will be half way through without ever getting shot at. You can't ask for better service than that." Knebler looked less worried than he did a moment before.

Yutu turned towards the communication man in the room. "Get me Quill's comm."

"Raising comm." the crewman responded

A blue image of another officer rose from the rooms HoloVid. "Comm here, this is Lieutenant Crop."

"Lieutenant, this is Commander Yutu in the Signals Interception shop, are you prepared to get readiness confirmations from the rest of the fleet."

"Aye, Aye"

"Lieutenant, remember to only use Laser Aimed Flash Ship to Ship commo. I don't want any signals leaking out." His reminder masked an order.

"Been using LAFSS all night, sir, seems it's getting a bit busy with a bunch of shuttles launching from all those ships and heading this way." Yutu had forgotten all the dignitaries that would be attending Yos's little ceremony this morning. "That's fine, Crop, leave them be and can you pipe the readiness signals down to me here as you get them."

"Copy that. sir."

"Thank you, Lieutenant, Yutu out."

It was the matter of seconds before a computer generated voice cut over the compartment's address system. "Corellian Dream reports ready status." A cargo hauler was the first to report; the Navy would never hear the end of that. On the HoloVid of the Fleet one of the thousand tiny red ships in the formation turned green in color. They all had to change before the Fleet could launch. "Kuat Driveyards 1138 reports ready status, Rancor's Bite reports ready status, Bespin's Luck reports ready status." Great a mobile ship yard and more cargo haulers turned green before any of the Fleet's Star Destroyers.

His First Lieutenant read his face. "I think it's because all the big girls are sending their Captains over to us for the Admiral's ceremony, probably won't report ready status till after their little shindig." Yutu cursed himself for not thinking of it himself. The men passed the time betting on which squadron would report ready status the first, or which Star Destroyer would check in before the others. Yutu lost twenty credits when the Purgatory in Seco's squadron reported ready status.
Yutu received notice, after several hours, that the handover ceremony down in the Alpha Hanger was starting. He told Knebler that he had the station and excused himself for the bridge deck. He found the two Kuati engineers waiting for him in the hallway. One of the men carried a large silver briefcase that was shackled to his wrist. The other scientist was armed and looked more like a bodyguard than an engineer.

"Ready, Gentlemen?" Yutu asked them and both men nodded. They fell in line behind him with the Kuati with the case in the middle and the bigger one bringing up the rear. Several Navy Troopers gave them a curious look as they moved towards the bridge. A mouse droid squealed as it moved out of their way.

The officer of the deck greeted them as they entered. "Gentleman, we have been expecting you. The Captain awaits you at the helm." He motioned in the proper direction and went back to his duties. Captain Nake had commanded the Quill since she had slipped her moorings at the driveyards around Kuat. He had been friendly towards Yutu since he had come on board a week ago, and seemed to exude the same old school charm that Fleet Admiral Yos had shown him. Standing next to the captain was Major Figh, the ships quartermaster. Usually it would have been one of the ship's CPOs or another enlisted man, but this was not an occasion for error and the ship's Chief Navigator had taken the helm. The men all greeted each other and made way for the Kuati to lay out their case.

Several security codes had to be entered for it to open, but the two men were soon plugging in several connections to the ship's helm. The three Imperial officers chatted to themselves, but never for a second took their eyes off the two engineers as they checked and rechecked information scrolling across their datapads.

"The device had been installed; it just waits for the command to up load." The smaller man told the assembled men.
Captain Nake spoke for them. "We thank you gentleman, your assistance is greatly appreciated. Will you be returning to your ships now?"

"No, Captain, we will be staying here, until the program runs its course. In case any problems arise." The smaller man appeared to be their spokesman reasoned Yutu. The bigger one just nodded along whenever the other one spoke.

"Any idea on how long the up load will take." Major Figh asked. Yutu just bit his lip. If the man was going to put himself in charge shouldn't he already have gotten these answers for himself?

"A little over ten minutes, Sir." The smaller scientist answered again. The men excused themselves and took up station in a quiet corner of the bridge. The three officers talked small talk and scuttlebutt as they stared out the bridge's viewport.

There wasn't much to see as the Quill had lead position in the line and the rest of the fleet lay behind her. The sheer vastness of space continued to captivate these men whose careers had been spent amongst the stars.
Another Lieutenant approached them. "Commander, all ships report ready status except the Wilderness and the Quill. Moff Seco's shuttle left Hanger bay Beta three minutes ago." Yutu recognized his voice as Lieutenant Crop's as soon as he started to speak.

"The Wilderness will change her status as soon as Seco's on board. Change the Quill's status to ready the second Admiral Yos steps onto the bridge. No need to report them, son, our slave rig here can't engage until all ships are green." The captain pointed to the bridge's HoloVid that mirrored the one Yutu had down in Signals Interception. Now the fleet was a sea of green with two specks of red near its lead. Lieutenant Crop acknowledged and returned to his station.

The Admiral entered a few moments later trailing a small army of aides who retreated when Yos entered the bridge. The Admiral asked him about the slave rig status and then talked to Captain Nake about fleet operations until every ship turned green. The appointed moment came and the Admiral ordered the up load to commence.

Silence engrossed the bridge as Yutu waited for the program to start. Several seconds later a tiny whir started in the nav computer. In the crew pit the electronics and commo officers gave him the affirmative hand signal that the slave rig was traveling throughout the fleet. It was an anxiety filled fifteen minutes, as Yos felt the eyes of every member of the bridge crew fall upon him. "Slave rig has been successfully up loaded." He announced when the slave rig's housing indicated it had been installed.

"Congratulations, Commander." The Admiral asked how long it would be, and then left to take care of other duties. The stress levels lowered amongst the crew when the old man left. Yutu wondered why he wasn't there hours later when the hyperdrives finally engaged. Every ship in the fleet made a perfect jump in the direction of the Kessel System, where the maw was located. The bridge was a hive of activity as the crew performed their duties. Everyone was preparing for the possible battle when they would drop out of hyperspace in the middle of the maw.

The Admiral returned after a few moments and checked the status of several stations around the crew. An indicator light appeared on the slave rig's housing. "Commander, could you look at this?" Major Figh asked with a concerned tone. Yutu stepped away from the strange light on the device and stood next to the helm. The monitor was going bezerk. One moment it showed their destination to be the maw, then for a heart stopping moment one of its black holes. After that it showed they were heading for the Core Sector, followed by Wild Space and the Rishi Maze. A second later they were heading towards Centerpoint Station in the Corellian System, then Balmorra, and then Imperial Center itself. The two men looked at each other, each officer's face drained of its color. Yutu turned and got the Fleet Admiral's attention.

"Fleet Admiral, there's something wrong with the nav computer." Yutu noticed how shaky his voice had become. He glanced at the controls again. They were still flying through destinations as Major Figh tried to fight the loss of control. He noticed the final destination was some mysterious extremely high coordinates that he wasn't sure was even in the known Galaxy.
Yutu swallowed hard and then everything went black.

Yard 4, Imperial container ship Chain, Hyperspace

The press of the crowd of slaves around her reminded Ashla of hunts on the plains of her home world of Shili. The Togruta girl stood several ranks from the guards at the gate that led to Yard 3. The guards wore a mix of Imperial and Kuati military uniforms and were barring the slaves from opening the bulkhead to the next hold.

"Go back to where you belong, beings!" A tall guard yelled above the crowd. "Go back to your homes, or there will be repercussions!"

"Like what, you won't feed us?" A skinny Gotal yelled back and a lot of slaves around laughed in agreement. That was good Ashla thought, this crowd was just bored not violent. The guards hadn't dropped food or water into the cargo holds since they had been loaded on board, but they also didn't stop the prisoners from breaking into the multitude of foodstuffs around them. Now if only some slave could find a container full of refreshers Ashla would be a little happier. The stench of thousands of slaves behind her in the giant hold emphasized her point.

"Open the door, you dwarfnut. Some of us got family over there." A Neimodian added and even more of the crowd agreed with that slave. Ashla had gotten separated from the slaves she had grown to know in the KDY shipyards, the ones she considered to be members of her latest makeshift pack. The more days she spent apart from them however, the more she felt like finding a new pack; she would have been the first to admit her old one hadn't been the best.

At the front of the mob a Kitonak moved forward and was dropped by the stun setting on one of the guard's E-11s. The crowd took a collective step back. "Go back to your shanties, slaves, or I will order my men to switch the settings on their blasters." The guard commander warned.

Her montrals echolocated and told her slaves near the rear of the crowd were already moving away from the commotion. The mob would be dispersed in a few minutes if the guards left them alone. The tall commander took out his force pike from across his back and reached out to stab at a slow Nautolan. Tentacles went flying everywhere as the amphibian humanoid screamed in pain. The guard smiled as he stood over the unlucky slave writhing on the deck. As he admired his handiwork he never saw the slave's brother smash in his temple. The other guards opened up on the green Nautolan with their E-11s. This time they weren't all set to stun. The crowd broke into a panic and fled the opposite direction.

Ashla felt horrible and elated at the same time. She felt through the force that the guards had stopped blasting and were helping their shivering and vomiting guard commander to his feet. She felt him stumble and drop to his knees again. They would have to get him to a medic as soon as possible. It was her montrals echolocation that gave her the position and direction of every panicked alien in the fleeing mob. It was close to what a hunt on Shili was like. After several twists and turns the crowd had dispersed as there physically wasn't enough room for them to flee very far in the cramped space. A aisle or two over and the horde was completely dispersed.

The section of the hold she was in now was a dark warren of hovels and tents that had been made out of whatever junk the slaves had hobbled together. A few younglings played a game on the deck with spherical orbs that Ashla had never seen before. She had missed a lot of a normal childhood by being raised in the Jedi Temple. On the second level of containers stood a rough-looking bunch of aliens overlooking the mass of prisoners. Ashla noted several tattoos on the males that appeared to be Black Sun markings and she made a note not to draw the attention of that crowd. She knew there was still a huge Imperial bounty on any Jedi the Black Sun turned over, and by the worsening conditions in the yard, any one of those dangerous criminals would have gladly handed her over to the guard force.

She was glad the Jedi didn't tattoo themselves, as that would literally have been a dead giveaway, with dead being the operative word. Besides her Togruta sash that she wore off her belt, there was nothing else that identified who Ashla truly was. Her species itself was rare off of Shili or Kiros, but several other slaves had recognized her as a Togruta. She spotted them when they pointed at her and then their own teeth, indicating that they had thought her two protruding fangs were poisonous. It was a silly myth, but one her species didn't feel like disproving.

She walked for quite a while doing several circuits of the yard. Most beings would have stayed out of the packed alleyways of the lower levels, but her montrals allowed her to pass through crowds like a fish going through water. Speaking of water, she made her way to a hydro-trading Toydarian who had built himself a shop around a huge water cistern that had been stored with all of the other random containers. As far as she knew there wasn't a single credit to be had anywhere in the yard, but Ashla had come across an Imperial medpack that still contained its painkiller medicine. The flying merchant almost cried when he saw her merchandise and she was able to haggle ten gallons out of the shifty trader. She made her way across the hold carrying her heavy cargo in a sack made of Ronto's bladder. The water on her back sloshed back and forth inside the pack and threw off her echolocation to the point that she was bumping into slaves every fifteen feet or so.
She thought of using the force to guide her, but changed her mind when she thought of how many beings were passively waiting for the first slip of a Jedi. Dozens of Jedi had perished in the purge when they had reached out with the force and looked for other Jedi. What had usually found them was the shiny red blade of Darth Vader's lightsaber. Ashla wasn't about to make the same mistake, even with her relatively short padawan training she had felt no other force users in this starship or the space around her, but she wasn't going to send out an invite either. Ashla usually only found peace in her lightsaber training and her meditations and did her best to keep both hidden.

It hadn't been the life her parents had thought they were sending their two-year old daughter away with the Jedi for. It hadn't been what the Masters and instructors at the Jedi Temple had trained her for, but then neither were the Clone Wars. Everyone had been caught unaware by the purge, and they really shouldn't have. Didn't they have a prophecy, weren't they arresting the Sith lord. What had gone wrong that night back on Coruscant all those years ago? She carried the pack of water to the mountain of containers that held her shelter and started her arduous climb with her liquid prize, as she tried to remember the events of that night.

Her mind drifted back to that dreadful night. When Ashla had been left exhausted by the Djem So training that her Master Agen Kolar had practiced with her for three days straight. When she felt she couldn't lift her blade anymore their training session had been interrupted by Mace Windu and Kit Fisto. Agen had talked to them and then hurried back to Ashla. She could still picture how surprised and elated her Master had seemed.

"You are excused from training for the remainder of the evening. I have an important mission to attend to for the council." He had told her as a gentle father would.

"Yes, Master." She had given him a small bow of respect.

"Come find me before you turn in for the night, I want to discuss some of the flaws in your defense." He reached into his robe and pulled out a datapad, as Master Windu coughed impatiently from the doorway. "This shows all of Form V's techniques, review them and we shall go over them together later." He handed her the device.

"Thank you, Master." She remembered him turning and leaving at a run along with Masters Fisto and Windu towards a waiting LAAT/I with Master Seass Tiin already on board. The Knight Skywalker waited to talk to Windu. "May the Force be with you." She had whispered to her Master's retreating back. He had turned and smiled at her as the LAAT/i lifted off.
As she reached the fifth level of containers she wished her Zabrak master had taught her more of the secrets about the Force Jump, not that she could actually have used it here as dozens of slaves would have noticed her doing so. Her mind continued reliving the events of that night as she climbed higher and higher.

She recalled her montrals informing her of her friend Liam's hand about to smack her on the back. She welcomed the youngling's approach and turned to greet him. His slap stopped in mid air. "I told you you're never going to surprise me, I'm too in tune with the force." She joked. Her montrals were still small, but they gave her quite an advantage in spatial awareness.

"The blimp bus that goes to the financial district is coming by in five minutes, do you want to go grab something to eat. I know a great place."

"So Master Yoda's letting younglings out of the Temple at night now?" She made a friendly jab, as she knew Liam was still worried whether he'd be picked up as a padawan anytime soon.

"Master Yoda's still on Kashyyyk, so we've been getting away with stuff since you became a padawan so long ago." Both friends laughed and she had agreed to grab a bite with the blonde human boy.

Dexter's Diner had served some of the best burgers on Coruscant, and that night it hadn't disappointed. Liam wanted to know all about her new padawan training and what Master Kolar was like.

"He's one of the masters I would have liked to have gotten myself." Her fellow Bear Clan member told her.

"He's got me training in Form V of lightsaber combat, and he's already given me this crystal for my lightsaber." She slid a blue crystal over to her friend. "He's already shown me how to build one, but it'll take weeks to get it right."

"That is so astral. I hope I get a Master that prefers Form VII Verpad, I saw Master Windu demonstrate it once and it was great. I hear Master Fisto might be looking for a padawan soon, and I wouldn't mind him as my Master."

"You'll probably end up in the AgriCorps." She teased.

"Et chu ta!" Liam swore. "Still some masters are better than others; remember when Master Kenobi came to our training with Yoda."

"I remember, the time where he had lost a planet. I've always thought he was a few midichlorians short after that."

"Me too, his padawan Skywalker's made out to be a fine Knight though."

They were interrupted by a large four-armed Besalisk approaching there table. "You two are Jedi Younglings right? You guys shouldn't be here."

"Hey Dexter, what's up?" Liam asked. The owner of the diner pointed out the window. On the horizon the Jedi Temple burned. Ashla swore she had never seen a worse sight as watching the foundation of her life burn.

"The Jedi's are responsible for a terrorist attack on the life of the Chancellor tonight." A HoloNews channel reported from a viewscreen above the counter. "Hundreds have been killed in the Jedi attack on Republic troops on the grounds of the Jedi Temple here on Coruscant. COMPOR is now asking that all Jedi are to be considered armed and dangerous…"

"You kids better come with me, Obi Wan is a friend of mine, and he would want this. Come quickly before the Coruscant Guard come around." He reached down and took both young Jedi by the arms and yanked them out of their booth. He hurriedly shoved them both into the back of the restaurant and had them change out of their Jedi robes into clothes he had stashed away in his office. He burned the robes in a fireproof bin, and stashed their lightsabers in the ice machine. With a quick flick of a kitchen knife he trimmed Liam's padawan braid. It was several hours' later when members of the Coruscant Guard burst into the diner with their DC-15s drawn.

"We've had reports of Jedi here earlier tonight." An assault trooper accused Dexter. The trooper's squad spread out amongst the restaurant.

"No Jedi scum here." The basilisk shrugged all four of his arms in confusion. "Those terrorists are definitely not welcome here after what they did to our beloved Chancellor earlier. Your men hungry, sergeant, we can get them a couple of sliders on the house."

The man's squad reported back to him. "Nobody's here, but a couple of kids doing dishes in the back, Sergeant."
"Call the CG if you do see any Jedi, citizen." The sergeant told Dexter as the squad filed out of the front door.
"You betcha." He called after them.

Dexter came through the swinging doors into the kitchen a few minutes after he made sure the clonetroopers were gone. He signaled the young Jedi to follow him as he walked out the rear door into an alleyway. "The Jedi are alright in my book, and I owe my old friend Kenobi more than a few favors from over the years. I can get you on a refugee transport tonight if you have some way of paying for your passage. Its flown by a fellow named Jax Paven and he's got no love for the Republic or the Chancellor. He can get you off world and out to the Outer Rim."

Ashla remembered how hard she squeezed that blue crystal. "We have a way of paying." She had answered.
Ashla let the memories flow over her as she hauled herself through the makeshift door of her shelter. She set the pack down and checked to make sure her belongings hadn't been disturbed in her absence. When she had assured herself that everything was still present she sat down and took off her boots. She hated the things, a true Togruta was only happy when she was connected to the land through their bare feet. Boots were only acceptable on starships and space stations for her culture. She thought of that crystal again as she looked at the pieces for a new lightsaber she had gathered over the years.

She downed a large gulp of water and felt meditation was called for, to help her relax from her troubles. Her old pack of slaves from the Kuati driveyards was gone, as well as all the ones she had loved before, and being alone in the Galaxy filled her with nothing but anxiety.

She crossed her legs and arms and let the Force reach out to her. Somewhere she was aware of a different sound as the constant thrumming of the sublight drive engines under the yard switched to a hyperspace jump. Her meditation took her back to her days as a youngling in the Jedi Temple. It was years before the eruption of the Clone War across the galaxy, and she was with the rest of the Bear Clan in a training session with Master Yaddle.

The diminutive Master was teaching her clan of the way of Morichro, or the power to reach out through the Force and put another being in a sense of suspended animation. It had been a forbidden Jedi trick, but Master Yaddle had returned it to the Jedi. Ashla had taken to it quite quickly, however Yaddle had warned of the dangers of Morichro. How you had to constantly monitor the being you placed under it, because of the possibility of disease and starvation. After Yaddle's death, nobody at the Temple had ever mentioned that particular Force ability again. Ashla wondered why that thought reached out to her at this odd time.

Suddenly the Force was upon her like a giant ocean. This had never happened to her before, and for a split second she was scared she had been discovered by the Sith. Through her meditation she found all four sides of the Force about to crash upon her like a tidal wave from every direction. The light side, dark side, and even the universal and living Force were giant tidal waves that immersed her and threatened to drown the Jedi. Ashla started to panic, and reached out for a life pod to save her.

Suddenly, she thought she saw Master Yaddle before her, but realized it was Yoda in the middle of a swampy refuge somewhere lending her his help. Another middle aged human Jedi male was crossing a burning sea of sand but was sending her his strength as well. But there was another trying to drown her, a cloaked figure surrounded by red-cloaked guards drew his attention towards the padawan. Yoda reached out with the power of farsight and that evil figure suddenly disappeared. The ocean died down and became choppy. She thought of Moricho and of everyone in the space around her.
Ashla had a sense that everything in the ship had become black around her, but continued to focus on the force even as her body attempted to pass into unconsciousness. She felt Yoda and the other Jedi getting further and further away as she seemed to have traveled an incredible distance from them. The ocean had turned into a sea of ripples and Ashla continued to fight against it. She felt every wave and splash of the water-like Force and strained to calm each individual disturbance. When it finally became as still as glass she searched for the Masters that had helped her and found that they had gone. Once again Ashla was alone.

It was then that her consciousness finally passed into blackness.
------------------------------------------
Crew Billets H-27; Imperial I class SD – Insertion Unknown Space

SF-4738 woke up with blood in his mouth, which hadn't happened to him since his training on Carida. He couldn't recall ever waking up floating in zero-g though, he wondered as he dangled his limbs above the unlit deck. For a second, the veteran sergeant believed he had been struck blind, and tested his blinking eyelids several time. Wherever he was, it was totally devoid of light. It didn't help that none of the display lights, or the HUD inside his helmet seemed to be working right either.

"Sergeant," A voice cut out of the darkness, "You there, Sarge?"

"Lieutenant? Can you see anything?" SF-4738 continued to wait for his polarized eye lenses to adjust, or at least cut to their night vision mode.

"Is anyone there? Where am I" Mahan seemed to be entering a panic.

"I'm right here, Loot." The NCO tried to remember his long ago zero-g training that he had recieved in bootcamp as a young recruit. If his stomach was growling from an intense hunger, he was sure he would have empited it onto the deck by now. He pushed off of a random object and floated towards his platoon leader's voice. Within two confused movements he crashed his helmet into the young officer's knee. The lieutenant reacted by blindly slapping at the top of his helmet.
"Who's there? I can feel you trooper. ID yourself." The lieutenant seemed to be shuffling around and flailing blindly.
"SF-4738." The sergeant responded automatically. When he realized the Lieutenant still wasn't responding he figured his helmet's external audicasters must have been malfunctioning as well. He reached up and pulled off his bucket and repeated himself.

"Sarge, thank the Emperor, I thought I was blind and alone."

"I don't think we're blind, sir. I think the Insertion has lost power somehow." He reached for a solution on his utility belt. Years of practice guided his hands straight to the pocket that held his glow rods, and he quickly pulled one out and snapped it. A green glow lit the compartment, as well as illuminating several stormtroopers that were still unconscious and hanging limply in mid-air nearby.

"That helps out, Sarge. What do you think could have caused this?"

"Your guess is good as mine, but if I had to bet, I'd say that female captain, we were supoosed to meet up with, hit us with an Ion cannon of some sort when we entered the maw." SF-4738 went over and started shaking his troopers awake. Several of them were just as confused as the lieutenant, and he quickly found out that none of them had a working helmet either.

"That's what I figured Sarge, but it doesn't explain why everyone got knocked out cold as well."

"We don't know that yet, sir, it could've only happened to us."

"What do you think we should do next?" the officer asked, and SF-4738 felt the lieutenant was delegating command of the platoon to him.

"Let's first find out if we've got everybody here. Most of the platoon should be present." Somewhere on the other side of the room a couple more troopers snapped their glow rods and green light completely bathed the room. He silently started a head count of his soldiers as he continued talking to the lieutenant. "After that we get over to the Company HQ and report to the Captain. He can figure out what to do from there."

"It looks like most of the men are still here." Mahan observed.

"A few are missing, I had DG-3028, WQ-2395, and CV-2048 on KP duty and I don't see any of them here, plus HF-3105 and JN-6166 were in the MedBay. So we're missing five troopers." He finished his head count, "It looks like we've got everyone else though.

Another stormtrooper floated towards the sergeant. "Sarge, my weapon's dead." The trooper reported. SF-4738 grabbed for his own E-11 and took a look at it. The charge had completely vanished from his ammo's power pack, and in less than a second he had another one loaded. It too was dead, and even stranger the gas cylinder of his blaster was totally devoid of tibanna. He grabbed the scope from his utility belt and looked through it to find it was powerless as well.

"My chromo isn't working either." Mahan told him.

"Try your comlink, sir."

The officer tried, but there wasn't enough power in the device to even raise static. Everything in the billet that required a power source had been completely drained.

"Listen up, troopers!" He projected his voice across the barracks, and his platoon tried to twist and turn in the zero-g atmosphere to more or less face him. "I want all of you to stay in this bay here. The Lieutenant and I are going to report to the Captain and get some kriffing answers. Obey the corporals. I want a full accounting of all our weapons and equipment when I get back. Be prepared to repel boarders, if that's what's happened." His own stomach grumbled as he spoke. "I'll see what I can do for some grub for you guys also, but no promises, break out some MPETs to chow on if you want."
"This is pretty weird, Loot, but I'm ready whenever you are. You might want to grab some glow rods for yourself."
"Sure thing, Sarge." The officer floated over to a nearby supply locker and helped himself to some of the chemical light sticks. He spent longer than he should have in there. "Nothing is working in there either. Everything from comlinks to HoloVids are dead." The young officer pushed himself off the locker with his legs and shot across the bay towards the door.
"After you then, sir."

The door didn't automatically slide open as the two men glided towards it and SF-4738 figured they would have to get used to that at every entrance. He pulled out his vibroblade from his wristguard, and noting that it wasn't powered either, punctured the door with it. It didn't go far, it wasn't durasteel, but whatever the Empire used for interior design was tough enough. With just the tip of the blade embedded in the door he was able to yank the door open enough for the two of them slide through.

The hallways of the Star Destroyer were just as black and dark as the billet had been. Even though SF-4738 couldn't pinpoint their location he heard dozens of voices yelling for help or assistance. A lifeless protocol droid floated by them as they entered the hallway. A clunking noise near the ceiling made Mahan turn his glow rod in that direction in time to witness a mouse droid hurling down the hallway.

"Must have been going pretty fast when whatever this is happened. Make sure you stay close to the walls, sir. It'll give you more surfaces to push yourself off of."

"You got it, Sarge." Mahan was looking as far down the hallway as he could with his limited light. "It looks like we're the first ones to make it out of their bays. You think we ought to help the other platoons get out."
"We should probably report in first. sir. Plus it wouldn't be all that great if we had hundreds of stormtroopers and other vachead crew floating around these halls. Especially when most of them have never experienced zero-g before, could lead to a lot of free floating vomit out here in a hurry."

Mahan's face twisted in disgust. "I see your point, Sarge." They pushed off again, and SF-4738 showed the lieutenant how to swing from one overhead bulkhead to another as they made their way down the hallway. "That reminds me. I wonder what it's like down in the raw material holds and liquid stores."

"Hopefully we won't have to find out, sir." The thought of some of the supply crews down in those lower decks drowning or being crushed by their cargo while floating inches away from safety gave him chills.

They arrived at the headquarter billet a few doors down from their own after a few minutes of getting used to traveling without gravity. SF-4738 was frustrated when Mahan seemed to get the hang of it much quicker than he did. Youth was wasted on the young, SF-4738 thought. The door was exactly like the one to their quarters and both men took out their vibroblades to work on the entrance to company HQ. The minute both of their weapons thumped into the door, there were shouts from the other side.

"Who's out there? Identify yourself or we'll start blasting." SF-4738 recognized the company commander's voice. He paused for a second wondering if the HQ unit still had working blasters or were just bluffing.

"Lieutenant Mahan and SF-4738, 3rd Platoon, sir" Mahan yelled through the crack they had started to work in the entranceway.

"4738, Mahan get in here, boys give them a hand." The Captain ordered from the other side of the door, and a few seconds' later stormtrooper gloves came through the crack to help widen it. Soon Mahan slid through the gap followed by his sergeant. SF-4738 thought it was a comical sight when the young officer tried to come to attention in zero-g before the company commander, evidently so did the Captain.

"As you were, Lieutenant, how are you doing Sergeant?"

"Fine, Sir, never better. Have you heard from Battalion." SF-4738 asked.

"You two are the first to report. Me and the First Sergeant were still getting headquarters here together when you showed up. How's 3rd Platoon?"

"We've got all but five troopers, sir," Mahan reported. "Three men are on KP and two more are in the MedBay."

"I hadn't heard we had anyone in the MedBay?"

SF-4738 broke in, "Happened right before the blackout, sir, disciplinary action." He reported flatly. The Captain just looked at the sergeant. He had been in the Corps a long time and knew when to leave a matter alone. SF-4738 still thought it a wise idea to change the subject. "We heard a lot of men trapped in the other billets. It won't be long before they're out and floating around these hallways. Some of them might get in serious trouble if they wonder too far."
"I'll take care of the company." He turned to the stormtrooper behind him, "First Sergeant get some men in the hallway. Gather all the Platoon Leaders in here, but keep the rest of the troopers in their billets for now. You hungry, Top?" Evidently SF-4738 wasn't the only one who was starting to feel like he could eat the south end of a north bound rancor.
"Sure am, sir, I'll get some men to the kitchens a deck down. They can check if 3rd's men are down there too." The senior NCO answered before turning and speaking to a couple of his headquarters troopers. The men boosted themselves out of the entranceway a minute later.

"Ok Mahan here's what I'm going to need out of you. Evidently nothing is working as it should and I need someone, meaning you and the sergeant here, to get to Battalion and report to the Colonel, and then find out what he frakkin wants this company to do. Then get back here as fast as you can drift or float or whatever. Got it"

"Yes, sir." The lieutenant snapped off a salute that caused him to do a backwards somersault from the inertia. SF-4738 caught the officer before he could embarrass himself too badly.

"Let's go, Loot." He pushed off a table that was bolted to the deck and rocketed to the door. The lieutenant was hard on his heel. Several troopers were in the hallway when they reentered it, most of them working at freeing their trapped companions from their malfunctioning billet doors.

SF-4738 turned right and headed past the men. Within a few minutes they were in another darkened company billets where troopers were pouring out from everywhere. With the crowd came a sea of free floating arms and legs that they had to traverse. Several times the sergeant had to turn and pull the younger man along with him. The next company down was much quieter. None of their doors had been cracked, but SF-4738 could hear muffled chatter through the doors when he stopped to catch his breath in the empty black hallway.

They reached the turbolifts and once again extracted their hand weapons. The lift doors were much easier to open as all they had to do was get the vibroblades into the seam where the two sliding doors met. Once they pried enough open for a handhold, it was just a matter of elbow grease and the things were slid open.

"You think we should be doing this, sergeant. What if the lifts come back on line?" Mahan expressed his worry.
"We should be fine, sir. We should hear the reactors going though their start up routines. These shafts go all the way down to engineering, so we'll probably have enough time to exit again."

"Ok then, lead the way, Sarge." They entered the shaft which under zero-g was just like traveling down another hallway, except when SF-4738 checked behind him to see Mahan's progress. The gaping abyss of blackness underneath him gave him a nauseous wave of vertigo. He turned forward again and doubled his pace as he realized that artificial gravity was probably one of the first things that would turn on when the power came on. He didn't want the lieutenant thinking about how they would probably fall to their deaths well before being crushed by a fast moving lift car.
They reached Battalion's deck after ascending nine levels, but SF-4738 kept going up one more deck. Lieutenant Mahan didn't even notice the mistake or kept his thoughts to himself. They reached the deck above Battalion Headquarters and repeated their penetration of another set of lift doors. SF-4738 was going to report in as he had been ordered, but he wanted to get a few answers for himself first. They pulled themselves onto the upper deck as SF-4738 led the way.
The hallway they entered was lit with the faintest of light. Several free floating objects cast spiraling shadows down the length of the passageway. The Stormtrooper guided the young officer around to a huge viewport. This particular window was adjacent to officer's quarters from the starship's navigation station and as such was left open during most hyperspace jumps. Both troopers glided up to the cold transpiristeel and gazed out at the universe around them. The Insertion was completely white, even its running lights were blacked out.

It was the sight of Tarkin's Fist that left them in shock. The light from a distant star illuminated hundreds of starships. Not a single flash of light escaped from any of the craft as they all kept formation in silent procession. It was Katana disaster all over again SF- 4738 thought, as he watched a thousand ghost ships drift across space.
"Is it getting cold in here?" Mahan asked.
-------------------------------------------
Command Bridge, Imperial II class SD- Quill, assumed maw space, Unknown Sector

It was the cold seeping through the back of his uniform that startled him awake, but it was where he discovered himself that truly scared him. Commander Yutu found himself resting with his back against the Quill's Command Bridge viewport. He was floating upside down and several feet above the deck.

There weren't any lights coming from any of the stations on the bridge or from inside the nearby crew pit either. The ship had lost power somehow the Commander thought. He became concerned when remembered the lesson he had learned at the Imperial Naval College on Prefsbelt IV about powering up a starship. It was a painstaking process that could last anywhere from a few hours to a few days. For that very reason it had been fleet doctrine to target ion weapons first whenever they were encountered. He wondered if that is what happened, had the Quill had been struck by some secret Ion cannon that Daala must have secreted away. No, he told himself, they hadn't been in hyperspace long enough to even reach the maw before the power failure had occurred, and there was the matter of the whacked out nav computer failure occurring at the same time. This was something else all together.

He slowly turned himself over so that he could see outside of the viewport and was greeted by the sight of sheer emptiness. If the fleet had been hit by the same force that had disabled the Quill then they would still be in position to the aft of the flagship. Below him lay the hull of the Quill and he could tell the power outage was shipwide. He squinted his eyes at what he first made out to be a nearby gas cloud formation, but upon a second look decided was in fact a distant asteroid field. The maw was supposedly choked full of the things; maybe they had made it after all.

He turned once more to the bridge compartment and pushed off towards the navigation station nearby. Above him the still unconscious figure of Major Figh floated peacefully. Yutu would have checked on the man, but the Major's subtle snoring let him know the other officer was probably all right. Around the room several other crew members were stirring and two technicians were hovering near the figure of Fleet Admiral Yos, trying to revive him.
Yutu checked the controls of both the nav computer and the slave rig apparatus. Both had been completely drained of power and showed no signs of artificial life. A dozen standard procedures for starship maintenance jostled for the fore front of his mind. If they were in dry dock they would have been connected by power cables to the dock's reactor and under gone what the ship builders called a jump start. He'd seen them done on smaller air and land speeders, and he figured in theory it could have been done to a Star Destroyer as well. It's just that he never heard of it being performed successfully that worried him, and it worried him that he wasn't positive on the location of the rest of the fleet yet either. They could be as dead in the water as the Quill.

"Report, Commander." Admiral Yos's groggy voice cut though the sterile air of the bridge. Yutu noticed several other zero-g figures stir as the command reached them.

"I don't know all that much, Admiral, as I woke only a moment ago myself. It appears the Quill has suffered some kind of massive power failure."

"The entire ship? That's going to take a while to restart, someone get me the status on the fuel for the reactors. Where is Captain Nake?" The Admiral started regaining his command presence and tried to float his way over to the Captain's chair.
"Over here, sir." The voice came from the blackened passageway leading to the bridge, and Yutu wondered just how far the other officer had drifted away. He thought of the rest of the ship's crew and realized there were several areas that were highly dangerous in zero-g. He turned towards the operations station and quietly asked the man if they had secured the hangers for hyperspace. He confirmed they had, and the thoughts of hundreds of crew deaths to the openness of space sent shivers down the Commander's spine. He turned his attention back to the Admiral as the newly awakened Major Figh drifted to his side at the navigation station.

"We need to get someone down to engineering as soon as possible. Try to find Commander Charge and bring him up here." The Admiral ordered, "Yutu the bridge is completely dead, I need you to get to the aft viewports of the superstructure fantail and get me a count on how many other starships made it through with us."
"Yes, sir." He agreed that was probably a good idea, besides it would answer the burning questions racing through his mind. "Someone get Yutu a pair of macrobinoculars." Admiral Yos snapped at a naval trooper officer that had arrived on the bridge and the man handed his pair to the Commander.

"These are dead, Lieutenant." Yutu observed.

"Yeah everything with a power cell isn't working. Whatever hit us has affected everything from blasters to comlinks. Weird thing is all the blasters got their tibanna cylinders emptied out as well. The lens in the thing work just fine though, sir, you just won't be able to see as far as you normally would is all." The man reported with a thick deep core accent. Yutu wondered how all the guards aboard the prison ships were making out without their blasters, probably minus their force pikes as well. There'll be a few casualties there, he figured.

"They'll have to do then, Lieutenant. Thank you." He took the observation device and moved towards the passageway at the rear of the bridge. Major Figh was already disassembling the nav computer along with the two Kuati technicians as he left. He hoped they found some answers before he returned.

"Get back as soon as you can, Commander, but get as full accounting as you can." The Admiral called after him as he conferred with Captain Nake.

The passageway would have been completely black except for the presence of more naval troopers. Most of the marines had been equipped with glow rods and the eerie chemical green shine they gave off lit the way for him. Yutu pushed off one wall to the next, with every few hops a controlled crash would slam a shoulder or knee into a bulkhead somewhere. A couple of stormtroopers passed him in the hallway with the grace of Kowarkian monkey-lizards. Yutu couldn't help but be a little envious that the soldier's armor protected them from all the bangs and bruises he was acquiring as he moved through the superstructure.

Finally after a bit of trial and error he arrived at his goal. It was a small utility viewport that was normally closed during operations, but it had a manual release latch as well as a powered one. Yutu didn't even bother with the controls as he figured they were as dead as the rest of the ship, but instead gave the release handle a couple of cranks. He was rewarded for his efforts as the durasteel shutter slowly cranked open.

There they were, Tarkin's Fist, in perfect line formation. None of them showed any sign of life as far as he could discern. He reached in his pocket for his datapad to record the names of the starships he saw, but the device was a blank screen when he brought it out. He should have known better he told himself. He'd just have to remember as many of them as he could. He raised the macrobinoculars and started his count. Several starships were blocked from view by the bulk of the nearest warships, but he could make out the ships of Yos's line. Nearby he spotted the Insertion, the Slash, and the Flood the three Imperial I-class Star Destroyers that served under Fleet Admiral Yos. He also noted the Admiral's two Venators; The Battle of Geonosis and the Senate, and behind them in the assault line was the Victory class Star Destroyer Charger. That accounted for the Admiral's assault squadron so Yutu went looking for the Moff's flagships. The closest battle line was Moff Seco's and the Commander quickly counted up the seven Acclamators and fourteen Victory II class Star Destroyers in Seco's line. At the front were the Babel, the Purgatory, the Limbo, and Seco's flagship the Wilderness. The Fleet Admiral would probably be disappointed when he heard the Moff from the Ploo Sector had made it. The two lines behind them were much harder to make out at this distance.

They seemed pretty far from whatever sun they were by. Behind the fleet lay what appeared to be a local orange and biege gas giant with several visible moons. It reminded him of the planet Endor or Ploo perhaps. Yutu knew for a fact there weren't any planets inside the maw, especially gas giants. Moff Kuat's flagship the Kuat's Might was silhouetted against it. Several of Moff Culter's fleet could just barely be identified in the rear of the formation, but Yutu couldn't spot the Tector class Star Destroyer Trapped that served as the terraformer's command ship. His view of Culter's fleet was blocked by most of Kuat's thirteen Kuati Star Destroyers, so he assumed that Culter must have come through along with the rest of them. In fact, there wasn't a starship in the fleet that didn't seem to have missed the 'big jump'. He couldn't testify for the ship's crews, but he could report that the rest of the starships were present and accounted for.

He propelled himself from the viewport. Ten minutes later he was floating onto the command bridge once again. The Admiral and Captain Nake were speaking with another Commander dressed in the black overalls of an engine crewman. Yos spotted him enter and waved him over. "Commander Yutu, I believe you've met Commander Charge, head of engineering."

"Yes, sir, How are you, Commander?" he shook the other man's hand.

"I've been better."

"What's the status on the rest of the fleet, Commander?" Captain Nake asked.

"It looks like everyone else is out there, but they all appear to be as dead in the water as us. All the starships seem to be maintaining position through simple inertia, but there's a nearby gas giant so who knows how long before we start losing starships to its gravitational well."

"Did you recognize the planet; if it's one like Yavin Prime or Corvis Minor V we might be able to get some assistance from the gas miners there?" The Captain suggested.

"I wasn't able to determine which planet it was, sir."

"Good work nonetheless, Commander. We were just listening to Commander Charge's status report on our reactors, you may continue, Commander." Admiral Yos gestured for the engineer to resume his report.

"As I had been saying, the bunkers with the lower grade fuels such as anthracite and Peragian fuel were discovered to be completely bare. We can't even rotate the turrets without them. We had a couple of RadTroopers drop into the reactors and they found them just as empty." Charge reported. "That's not the worst of it. We aren't picking up any tachyon signature presence from any of the ultra dense hypermatter bunkers or the hypermatter annihilators. It's as if the hyperspace engines burned themselves out, but took every form of fuel with them before they went out. Some of these systems aren't even connected, which leads to even more questions."

"That would explain why Gunnery is reporting they're missing all their tibanna as well." The Admiral offered
If we do get the Quill up and running again it'll be some months, if not years, before we can gather up enough hypermatter to jump anywhere." Captain Nake broke in.

"The other bad news is we haven't got any air circulating without life support running. Plus it's going to get pretty cold on board, and the air might get a little thick with carbon dioxide if we don't get the air scrubbers up and running." Charge continued. "I've got one of my best teams working on that issue as we speak, and I'd like to get back to them as soon as I can."

"Well it doesn't look like we're going to get any help from our sister ships. If I had to take a guess they're in the same shape as we are." Yutu reported.

Admiral Yos interjected. "Gentlemen, let's first get the Quill operational as soon as possible. Then we can see what help we can give our comrades on the other starships. Now we've got a lot of problems, but from now on I only want to hear solutions. And the first solution I want to hear is how to get some power into this ship."
Yutu wondered where they were even going to start.

Hold G-2, Imperial Prison Ship Manacle

Brakatak felt like he had just gone ten rounds with the Galactic Heavyweight Champion, Mustafarian Mo Aliegh. That was after he realized he was awake at all. When he had come to, he had been floating in mid-air surrounded by what he hoped where blankets in the pitch blackness. Cries of alarm echoed across the hold and the big Gran convinced himself he was still in his prison somewhere onboard the Manacle.

He swiped at the free-floating coverings in the pitch blackness of the hold and accidently smacked the back of his left hand against the hold's wall. "E chu ta!" He howled.

"Brakatak, is that you?" He tried to orientate his body in the direction of the voice he recognized as belonging to his herd's bull Frekfrek.

"Yes. I'm over here, wherever here is."

"Wizard, I can just barely see you. You seem to have gotten yourself wrapped up inside one of the shelters. Are you alright?" Frekfrek seemed to be moving closer, and then he felt the male tugging at the blankets that surrounded him. Within a few seconds Brakatak was free.

"Yes, Bull. I think so." He gave the man his title as a sign of respect in Gran culture; it was also a sign of submission to another's way. Frekfrek just nodded and wadded up the blanket and flung it away. In the zero-g environment it just unraveled itself as it floated away into the blackness. More and more cries for help came from every direction, and Frekfrek started to look more frantic. "I just smacked my hand is all, should be fine in a second."

The nearby viewport let in a tiny shaft of starlight that illuminated their small portion of the hold. His three eyes told him that they must be in a system with a yellow sun for it to be this bright. "I must see to the herd. Find who you can and help them, Brakatak, come find me if you learn anything but don't be stoopa." The bull pushed himself off of the viewport and glided into the area where most of the herd had their shelters. Even after he had disappeared into the abyss Brakatak could still hear the Gran leader yelling for individuals from the herd.

Before he left to seek other survivors, he propelled himself along the bulkhead until he could see out of the viewport. The starship was aligned in such a way that the viewport faced the core of this system. He faced a distant sun that appeared as little more than a giant star in space. With his eyesight being able to comprehend all sorts of different spectrums of light he was able to determine it most definately was a medium grade star that fell somewhere in the yellow scale. There were thousands of like stars scattered across the galaxy so he still had no clue where the fleet had jumped to. His gaze fell upon a distant asteroid field, but he could name a hundred systems with those as well. He put his face all the way up to the transpiristeel and looked as far to the front and rear of the fleet as he could. To the rear he was able to spot a small white bluish moon that seemed to be covered in ice. It reminded him of how a spacer friend of his had described Rhen Var to him a few years back in the prison camp on Desparye. Above the small moon he could just make out the orb of an orange gas giant. "Maybe we're near Bespin. I should have been a navigator." He said to himself as he looked around. "It's got to be better than being a kriffing slave."

It was the picket ships in the line that caught his attention next. A Lancer–class frigate drifted a kilometer away, but Brakatak wouldn't have noticed the thing without the aid of the sunlight. The ship was as completely black and powerless as the Manacle seemed to be. Beyond that a Demolisher class Star Destroyer was a study in bleakness, as was an orbital loadlifter beyond it. The sight of six Nebulon B frigates blacked out on the edge of the fleet made his heart lurch. Those had been the starships he had most yearned to fly one day, and to see them completely helpless almost broke his heart.
He needed to focus on the here and now, Frekfrek was right, he should be concentrating on helping the herd. The fleet would have to help itself.

As the only being with any light in the hold he studied which way to go before making his leap. Because Brakatak was who he was, he naturally pushed off the wall in the direction of the most voices. His eyes were already getting used to the darkness as he came across another group of awakening Gran smothered in their own shelters. Brakatak pulled an ornate rug, which he was sure was quite beautiful in the proper lighting, off of an elderly male Gran who coughed and thanked him. "What's going on, Brakatak?" There wasn't a Gran in the herd that didn't recognize the massive bulk of Brakatak.

"There's been a black out, sir. I think the whole fleet's been knocked out." He explained. They both started freeing the Gran's wife, who was screaming for them to never mind the fleet and get her free. Brakatak couldn't be sure, but he got the impression that the male was taking his time about it.

"Good. I hope Abek, Goddess of the Underworld, takes the scum. Wonder what could have knocked them all out like that?"
"I don't know, sir. I had a thought that we might have flown too close to a pulsar star, but then I had a look outside and there weren't any pulsars to be found."

"Can a pulsar do that to a fleet?" The male asked as they finally freed his wife. The female had trouble getting her bearings without the help of gravity and had to be steadied by her husband.

"I'm not sure, but I think we would have all been baked by a pulsar's radiation by now, if that's what really happened. In fact at school I . . . "

"That's nice, Brakatak," the Gran's wife cut him off, "but I'm sure a big strong lad like yourself would help the herd more if you were out looking for those that need help. We'll be fine here until they get the inertial dampers back up and running."
"That's just what Frekfrek told me to do."

"Well good, Frekfrek is a pretty smart fellow. We should be fine now." The male explained.

"Thank you, Brakatak." The female added as Brakatak waved goodbye and moved into the ever darkening hold. He swiped his hands outwards as he moved along gathering up blankets and linens and shoving them in his wake. He felt like he was swimming at night in a giant kelp forest in the seas of Kinyen. He pushed the sudden pain of homesickness aside as he recognized several voices he knew. When he tried to turn towards them he realized he couldn't stop his forward motion. Without the inertial dampers online, nothing would ever stop his forward motion unless he smacked into it. He swung wildly to grab onto something that could stop his passage, when suddenly he felt his leg brush against something. He reached down and grabbed a hold of a small eyestalk and was greeted by a youngling's yelp of pain.

"What are you doing down there, kid?"

"Let go off my eye and I'll tell you." The little Gran voice called out. Brakatak's motion had been stopped, so he grasped for the back of the kid's shirt and pulled himself to the deck. The youngling had been crouched down grasping a hold of a drainage grate. "I don't want to fly off." He explained.

"Good move, kid, you mind if I push off. I've got friends over there somewhere."

"Alright, but if you see my mom can you tell her where I am." Brakatak had no idea in the dark which of the three dozen Gran younglings he was talking to, but he assured the boy he would. He braced himself against the kid's knees and slowly pushed off as to not let the boy lose his grip on the grate. This time he didn't stop again until he crashed into the far wall of the hold. In the inky blackness he hadn't been able to brace himself for the impact, and was pretty sure one of his eyestalks was going to be black and blue the next day.

His trip had been right on target though. "That crash can only be friend, Brakatak." A voice hooted though the void. Suddenly he felt himself being assailed as two small humanoids crawled on him only to give him hugs of joy. Brakatak could feel their giant bundles of hair, which in lightness would have been colored with multiple streaks of colors.
"It is Brakatak; nobody else is as huge as a cruiser." Keatly laughed.

"Keatly, Ashlei, Frip, are you all right?" the big Gran asked.

"Yes, we awaken in air. Not happy, rather wake in water. My tub is vanished." Frip explained.
"We found Frip and a couple of soaking wet Gran together. The Gran went to go help other Gran so the three of us decided to see to what's left of our shelter." Ashlei jumped in.

"There wasn't much, we think it floated that way." Brakatak had no idea of the direction Keatly was indicating because of the darkness, but he wasn't worried enough about their meager belongings to care.

"That not exciting news. Firrereo girls tell him what we find." The clicks of his Ishi Tib friend's beak seemed to clatter faster with his excitement. Brakatak wasn't sure, but he was beginning to think that his friend might be upside down in orientation to the rest of them. He smiled at the mental image.

Ashlei spoke first. "The shield's down. We can get out. We already checked it out and there were prisoners in the hallways. We heard Ugnaughts and some Ewoks moving about out there."

"We need to get out there and find out what's going on. You girls stay here; me and Frip are going to tell Frekfrek about this."

"No way, we're coming with you. We don't have anybody, but you guys on board." Keatly objected. Brakatak was touched. In the past few days, while his Gran herd had ignored him, he hadn't realized how close he had grown to the fellow refugees he had shared his shelter with. It was nice to feel needed, he thought.

"Astral, but you must stick close to me and Frip. There's lots of ways to get lost out there, and also Black Sun has some of their beings on board. They would love to get their hands on a couple of young Firrereos." Frip clicked his beak in agreement. Brakatak grabbed a couple of nearby sheets and handed them to the girls. "Tie yourselves to Frip and my backs. We will carry you. In zero-g it won't even be tiring." The girls did as they asked and giggled when they discovered that the Ishi Tib was indeed upside down in relation to the rest of them.

When they were ready they pushed off the wall in the direction of the Gran shelters. They could hear Frekfrek getting a
head count of the herd as they approached. "Brakatak's here. He yelled as he made his approach. In the blackness he bowled into a large crowd of Gran who had been listening to their leader for guidance. The herd must have been up against a wall as their presence stopped Frip and his forward inertia.

"Good to see Brakatak's family is still with the herd." Frekfrek said out of the darkness "Are your friends with you?"

"Yes, I've got my three shelter mates with me. We have good news." Brakatak announced to the herd. "The shield gate that prevents us from leaving the hold is down. We can leave."

"That is good, Brakatak, but there are many dangers to the herd out there. Especially the guards and their blasters, or have you already forgotten the feeling of the force pikes from the camps." Frekfrek said cautiously.

"We should find out what's going on." Someone yelled from the herd.

"Yes, Brakatak can you send your friends out to look around for us. I cannot risk the herd on something like this." Frekfrek sounded as if he was weighing a dozen options at once.

"We can't leave without Brakatak." Ashlei yelled from the big Gran's back.

"Yes, Bull. I must lead them. I do not have any other family in the herd. So they are my responsibility to look after. Besides gathering information is what I am good at. Did you know the entire fleet is in the same shape as we are?" Brakatak heard murmurs run through the herd at his breaking news.

"Very well, you can take your friends, but come back as soon as you find out anything." The herd's leader consented.

"We will, Frekfrek. Has anyone figured out a way to get any light?" Brakatak asked.

"We tried burning some linens, but the fire wouldn't burn right in the zero-g atmosphere," a voice he recognized as

Tulopek's explained. "It just caused a bunch of smoke. We had a rough time putting it out once it got going too."
"That alright. Me Ishi Tib. Me will find a way through hallways to another light. We be ok." Frip assured the herd.
"Good luck then." Brakatak felt Frekfrek take his hand in the darkness and give him a firm handshake. "Be safe."
Brakatak pushed off the crowd in the direction of the doorway. Frip must have pushed harder because he heard the Ishi Tib smack into the far wall before he did. It gave him a small chance to brace before impact. After he was assured they were all still there, he led them along the hold's wall till they reached the doorway. He slowly moved his hand forward to check if there was any resistance from the shield. Soon he was sure his hand was further ahead of him than the shield had ever been. He pushed off both edges of the doorway and glided across the blackened hallway to the other side. He heard hundreds of voices from both directions as he and Frip gathered their bearings.

They decided to go left, because they were both left handed. They could hear beings in the dark pass by. Some would beg for assistance, or give them a curse as they bumped into them. A few said nothing at all and passed by in silence as if they were on their own special mission. Around a corner and the hallway was suddenly lit with the green light of an imperial glow rod. A Weequay and a Dug fought over the object at the bottom of a large stairwell.

Brakatak and Frib pushed themselves to the ceiling and moved themselves above the fight. Several Jawa on the stairs seemed to be rooting and cheering for their favorite to win, and when the large Gran landed amongst them they scattered like leaves. They made their way up to the next level before they heard a huge commotion.

An Imperial officer was making himself be heard over a large crowd of prisoners. Brakatak and Frip settled at the rear of the hallway and noted that the prisoners in front of them had packed the hallway for almost three hundred meters. At the front of the green lit column they faced a wall of stormtroopers in special riot gear.

"What goes on Brakatak friend up there? You have best eye in group." Frip asked. Brakatak tried to explain to his three companions as best he could. The stormtroopers had formed a wall five troopers across and four deep. Every trooper had his helmet off for some reason Brakatak couldn't discern, and they weren't using their force pikes or their blasters either. Instead, from what he could tell, they were using batons and vibroblades, or perhaps normal blades as none of the weapons had the normal blur of a vibroblade in action. The first ranks of troopers were using their batons over the upper lip of their shields and every few minutes an officer at the rear of the formation would blow a whistle. The front rank would simply dissolve as they flowed though the formation to the rear rank, and the second rank would take their place at the front of the formation as it moved forward. Several medics were on hand in the rear to give the troopers a drink or any first aid they might need, before it was their turn in the front rank again. A clever system from what Brakatak could discern.
Humans and aliens alike threw themselves at the shield wall to no avail, and suddenly Brakatak realized the formation was actually getting closer to them. The troopers were moving forward as the medics would occasionally guide a beat up prisoner back into holding cells they were locking with manual doors and latches. Brakatak motioned for them to find another route around, but by this time the push of more newly arrived freed slaves had them trapped at the top of the stairs. They were pinned, no matter how hard Brakatak pushed to free his friends, he couldn't make much headway. Suddenly Ashlei screamed.

Brakatak turned and found he was suddenly at the front of the column. The ranks of stormtroopers stood or floated on the writhing and bloodied bodies of a hundred subdued prisoners.

"We no fight." Frip put up his arms and screamed. A trooper motioned for him to move to the side, but another one caught his Ishi Tib friend in the side of the head with a baton. Both Frip and Keatly crashed to the side. The troopers paid her no mind as they moved forward.

Out of the corner of his three eyes he saw a whir of motion. He didn't do anything more than move his body so that Ashlei wasn't also struck by a falling baton, and then for the second time that day everything went black.
------------------------------------------------
Yard 4, Imperial container ship Chain

It was the multitude of screams from the slave hold that woke the young Togruta. It was pitch black inside her shelter, but her montrals were telling her that she was floating in zero-g and propped up against the upper rear corner between the two containers that made up her walls. She listened to her echolocation once more and sensed that the plastoid door had vanished as well as half of her belongings.

In a panic she rushed to the floor of her chamber and plucked the remainder of her items from the air. She was relieved when she ducked her head into the container with the plastoid sheets and discovered that the parts of her lightsaber, that she had preserved, had drifted inside the giant bin. She gingerly moved through the darkness and gathered up her weapon's pieces. Someday, she reassured herself, they would be functioning again.

She glided back into her chamber and was starting to revel in the new found joy of moving about in zero-g when the noises of the hold brought her out of her new found joy. Ashla moved to the edge of her floor and braced herself along the edge of her door. Yells and shouts came from every direction. Ashla could hear a least a dozen fights, beatings, and worse from a dozen different directions. She didn't realize she was reaching out with the force, until she felt a few nearby life forces slip from it. Immediately her instincts from years on the run came boiling back to the surface, and she quickly brought her force senses under control. One could never tell when one of Palpatine's pet force-sensitives was around.

Because of the darkness she would rely only on her montrals, they had served her people in the hunt for millennia, and they were perfectly evolved to move through crowds whether they be in light or dark. Since most of the things that had floated away were her foodstuffs and her stomach was already complaining, Ashla knew it would soon be time to leave the relative safety of her shelter. She rummaged in her pack and dug out the only coat she owned. She felt the light fabric and slipped it on. It was an old, Kuati fleet jacket from sometime before the war that she hadn't had to wear since she had arrived on the Chain, but was now feeling compelled by a crisp chill in the air to don. She pulled on her hated boots and made sure her Togruta sash was straight in front of her skirt. She dug out a pair of long green spacer's gloves and put them on as well. When she was done she put her lightsaber parts and a gallon of water inside her pack. When she was done she was surprised at how light the pack felt without gravity tugging on it. She gathered everything else she had horded away over the past few days and shoved it into the plastoid container. Her hope was it wouldn't float too far away by the time she returned.

She came back to the edge of her shelter and tried to sense which direction she should head. Along one wall of the container canyon a fire had broke out. She watched the strange dance of the flames, which burned unlike any fire she had ever witnessed. The flames didn't rise, because no cold air flowed in to feed the base of the fire in zero-g. So instead it stayed in one place and gave off a tremendous amount of smoke. Ashla figured the fire sensors must be out in the hold as well as the lights. It was still an eerie sight and one of the few sources of light in the hold as she realized several other fires must have been lit in the other glowing canyons of the hold. She looked up towards the guard walkways. Through the shadows of the fires she could sense they had been abandoned by their captors. She turned back towards the fire and watched for a minute as a few Rodians fought the flames. She also saw in the shadows several tough looking beings watching the destruction. Ashla thought she recognized some of those she knew to be Black Sun and decided to go in a different direction than that one.

She tried to jump down to the next level of containers, but instead found that she actually propelled herself across the canyon to cargo boxes on the other side. She laughed to herself as she realized her mistake. When she looked back to her shelter she realized she had just made a jump of over seventy meters without even taping her force powers. Her montrals were telling her other figures were doing the same in the dark.

Several food containers in the hold had been taken over by friendlier beings and decided to make her way over her pile of cargo to one of those. It was a matter of seconds for her to reach the top with her echolocation showing her the pathway up. She could sense others nursing bumps and bruises as she flew by and was thankful once again for her species adaption. Near the ceiling of the hold she felt the presence of beings that had floated up there and were moving about as if they were still on the ground. It was almost as if she was sensing birds in the sky she told herself. When she reached the peak of the pile she was almost overcome by the screeching and scraping noise of thousands of durasteel cables straining to keep the giant piles of containers in place. Ashla had a sudden vision of what life would have been like if the containers hadn't been secured. The term 'flattened by a Hutt' came to mind.

The young padawan used the cables to pull herself in a downward motion on the other side of the pile into a dark unlit canyon. She took her time slowing down because she didn't want to reach terminal velocity when she hit the deck. She still hit with enough speed to knock her air out for a second. While she was catching her breath she felt a large form approaching. The figure reached out to grab her, but she was able to spin and put the base of her palm straight into the creature's throat. There was a garbled grunt as the man, she figured was a Kubaz, floated away. She noted the male's companion in the dark was a large Gamorrean, who attacked by flailing his arms in every direction. She got between the two aliens and then boxed the ears of the bigger one. When he turned in her direction she propelled herself upwards again towards the next level of containers. By the time she echo located again she could already hear the two beings beating on each other. She smiled and made sure she was more careful where she landed next time.

She made her way silently along the darkened wall until she could smell the container of Imperial MPETs and slowly guided herself to the floor. Inside the container she sensed the presence of four Chadra-Fans, and one of them seemed armed. She lightly knocked on the side of the container, but wasn't surprised when there wasn't an answer. She pulled herself to the area she remembered was the entrance to the container. She echo located again to find a crack in the doorway.

"Ashla, is that you?" a quiet male voice came from the other side. She had forgotten that with their huge ears they could barely make out her echo locating.

"Yes it is I, Finkrat. I came to see if you had any food. I have water to trade." Ashla asked desperately. New noises of commotion were coming from everywhere in the canyon as more and more slaves found ways to brutalize each other in the dark.

"E chu ta. You should not be out at a time like this. It is very dangerous for everyone. I must stay closed to protect my family." Finkrat explained.

"Alright, I have a gallon of drinking water to trade really quickly and then I will leave so that I don't draw attention to your family." Ashla begged not to be turned away.

"Ten MPETs for a gallon." When she had echo located she hadn't sensed the presence of liquid anywhere within their shelter.

"Twenty that way I can eat for a week, or I could always make a bunch of noise."

"Ashla is good girl. We know you wouldn't do that to friends. Twenty is good if you trade fast." Before she could even answer the Imperial troop meals were being slid under the door. She pulled her pack off and pulled the water out. She shoved all of the meals back into the pack.

"You need to open the door a bit to get the water in. It's in a wooden jug."

"Thank you, Ashla, but you go now." Finkrat whispered.

"Come back when the lights come on. We want to know that you are wizard." A female's voice quietly pleaded from the Chadra-Fan's quarters.

"I will. May the Force be with you." She floated up to the roof of their container and quickly put distance between herself and the small rodent refugees. Within ten minutes she was back inside her shelter. She pulled herself into the small cubby hole she had made on the container and unloaded the MPETs. She opened one and poured water into its cooking unit to start the chemical reaction it needed to warm the meal. In the darkness she had no idea what she was eating until she bit into it. This particular meal seemed to be a mix of Mon Calamari stew and freeze dried dewback. No wonder the stormtroopers were so tough, if this is what the Empire fed them.

With her belly full she put the pack back on after she wedged another piece of loose plastoid to block the opening to the container. When gravity returned she would have to find another door to her shelter, she told herself. She stood in the entrance for a second and then rapidly propelled herself upwards towards the walkways. As she approached them she flipped herself in mid-air so that her feet made contact with the underside of the raised platforms first. She collided with a loud clang, but was otherwise unharmed due to her Jedi training. She moved along the underside until she reached the edge and reached over to find the hand rail. With a quick motion she flipped over the rail and landed on the walkway. It was too bad that it was done in complete darkness she told herself, or else somebody would have probably offered her a job with a traveling circus.

She held on to the hand rail as she moved along so that she didn't float off. As she pulled herself along her feet came into contact with something caught in the mesh of the walkway. Ashla reached down and pulled the object free. At once she recognized one of the guard's force pikes and tried to flick it on, but the thing was only a lifeless pole. She felt disappointed as she had once witnessed one of these things take the arm off a slave at its highest settings, and she had been anxious to see what damage it could do to a guard. She slipped the power unit out of the device and placed it in her pack. After that she tucked the weapon between the straps of her pack down her back. Her rear montral kept the weapon from slipping out again.

As she approached the doors to Yard 3 she sensed several figures at the entranceway near the end of the walkway she was on. Behind them was a passageway of some sort that seemed to be lit with chemical sticks that she sometimes saw troopers equipped with. She tried to remember their names as she approached, and thought it was glow something or another. Evidently the beings at the doorway didn't want to draw attention to them by wearing the glowing sticks on themselves. Ashla noticed in the dim glow the figures were actually members of the starship's guard force, and were in the act of dumping an unconscious slave over the side of the walkway. Several other unconscious figures floated in the space around the guards. It didn't take much for Ashla to figure out that the guards were still not letting the slaves move between the holds, no matter how many times they tried. She slowly pulled the force pike out of its stowage spot along her back.

"Sarge, here comes another one." She heard a guard call out.

"This one's all alone." Confidence rose in the guard's voice as he made the observation.

She noted there were six of them all together, as she used her arms to pull herself along the handrail and blast herself into the group. Her force pike was a whirling propeller as it made its way through the mass of uniformed toughs. Suddenly it stopped as it made contact with one of the men's temple. As the man somersaulted unconsciously backwards Ashla drove the butt of the weapon into another guard's jaw. She felt the bone shatter as she watched blood splatter across the zero-g atmosphere as if it was moving in slow motion. Before the guard force could react to losing two of its men she jumped onto the shoulders of the largest guard she could find and straddled the man's head. She could feel him grasping at her legs as she brought the weapon down as hard as she could on the bridge of the man's nose. If there had been gravity he would have crumpled like a ton of bricks. She propelled herself off him again and struck two of the remaining guards knocking them off of the walkways. Instead of falling to their deaths the men instead floated off across the yard. She wondered what would happen to them in the darkness if the other prisoners discovered who they were.

The last guard was pulling himself along the walkway and making for the safety of the passageway. Ashla turned and flung the force pike at the hapless guard catching him in the back of the head. His crumpled form cartwheeled until it smacked into the edge of the doorway.

Ashla bent down and started going through the pockets of the men around her. She pulled out loose credits, three non-working vibroblades, four security passes, a new thicker jacket from the guard she caught in the temple, a pack of unused chemical sticks that she saw in the dim light were called glow sticks, another MPET, four belts, a comlink, a datapad, and a bunch of other gear she could trade. She even took the men's uniforms. She was in the process of dumping the first guard over the railing when she heard a noise from the passageway. When she looked she saw the bobbing motion of dozens of glow rods moving in her direction. She gathered up her pack and stuffed the force pike back in its place. She stood on the hand railing with a force baton in each hand and dove out over the canyons before the arriving guard force could realize it was a Togruta that had taken out their men.

She was elated in the excitement of her fight before she realized her mistake. When she had pushed herself off the hand railing she had used all of the strength in her legs. At the speed she had reached, she would have quite the rough landing. She echo located to see where she would impact and felt the hard deck rapidly approaching. This was going to hurt she told herself and put her arms up instinctively to cushion the blow the impact.

Before she realized what she was doing Ashla reached out with the Force. She closed her eyes as hard as she could as if to block out the pain. A few seconds later she quizzically opened them again. Below her she could sense dozens of beings making their way through the dark alleyways of the containers oblivious to the floating girl above them. Ashla tried to think about what she had done. She realized she had used force telekinesis to slow and then stop her fall, but had she revealed her presence to any of the Emperor's Jedi hunters. She didn't feel any dark side adepts nearby and figured she may be safe for the moment, except that she was suspended in mid-air.

She pulled out the force pike again and reached towards a distant edge of a nearby container. With several tries she was able to push herself slowly towards the other side of the canyon. Once she made contact with the other side she took a moment to gather her breath again. Below her were the scared and confused voices of her fellow slaves, while high above her she could barely make out the angry voices of the guard force discovering what had happened to its men.
Ashla moved along the containers to find her bearings and then moved back to her shelter. Within a few minutes she was back where she felt somewhat safe. She pulled another larger piece of plastoid out of the container and pushed and shoved the object until it was completely blocking the entrance to her shelter and she was sure it wasn't about to float off. She dumped out her pack and snapped open a small red glow rod. She looked at her haul for the day and smiled. Soon she would have to find someone to trade these objects with.

She lay down as best she could in the zero-g and took off her boots once again. The cold air hit her feet and she dug the only pair of socks she owned out of the bottom of the pack. If it kept getting colder in the yard she would have to trade for a blanket soon and maybe some winter gear. She tried to think where in the yard she had seen some of those items.
She fell asleep soon after that thinking about striking back at the inept guards that worked for the Emperor. She dreamed of the moves and lessons she had been taught that had allowed her to carry out her attack. Ashla felt elated in knowing she was once again moving away from being a slave and turning herself into something much more. Something that resembled the Jedi she had always hoped she would become.
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Executive Quarters and Offices, Kuat's Might, Unknown Space

"This can't be seen as our fault." Kuantus sternly warned his staff.

Niobe and Gage had gingerly shaken him awake a few moments ago and explained everything that they had been able to figure out. As he had listened to their report he had found it depressingly lacking in details. They had awaken, seen that the lights and inertail dampers were out, Gage had checked the hallway outside and seen that the conditions out there were the same, and then they found and roused their leader. The two of them were now looking out of the office's viewport in order to assess the condition of the Kuati Third Fleet.

Plenty of star light poured into the room from the large viewport, and Kuat of Kuat started fiddling with his MicroData Versafunction250 Datapad. He got more and more frustrated as the thing refused to activate.

"We have original copies of all Our favorite Mon Cal and Naboo sonatas on this thing. It cost Us almost twenty thousand credits, and with Our connections We were able to procure one six months before the manufacturer released them to the general public, and now it is no better than a flimsy weight." Kuat complained, he was even more aggravated that he couldn't check on how the blackout was affecting certain experiments in his squadron's laboratories.

"Your Lordship, the power outage seems to have spread throughout the entire fleet." Gage reported.

"I can still see the Discovery alongside of us. They're as powerless as we are." Niobe said. Kuat's interest peaked in their report when they mentioned the laboratory starship on their port side. "It's exactly where it was when we jumped to hyperspace. I wish I had a pair of macrobinoculars, because I believe I can see some type of movement on the Discovery's bridge."

"That is good. Hopefully the researchers onboard are protecting their experiments. Speaking of which We are most concerned with restoring power to our most vulnerable research, any suggestions? Niobe?"

"I believe there are two solar sailers and Ion test engines onboard the Kuat's Storm. I can call them and see if they can somehow marry the two devices to give us some energy." Niobe answered.

"Yes, but that's dependant on the comm functioning. I have a feeling that the reasons we haven't heard from Admiral Hadrian or Fleet Admiral Yos yet are they are as deaf, dumb, and blind as the rest of us." Gage corrected.

"But personal communication devices are not connected to starship comm, we should be able to reach another ship with a larger comset."

"Yes, but you just witnessed the condition of our Kuat of Kuat's datapad. I believe that all electrical devices may be in the same condition." Kuat listened to his two aides banter, and tried to come to some conclusions on his own. "I suggest we wait until the Kuat's Might's reactors get fired back up. The Admiral will no doubt divert power to systems he will determine to be most vital to the ship's well being."

"Speaking of which," Niobe interrupted Gage "Your Lordship will have to have a discussion soon with the Admiral about which systems you find most vital."

"That is true, my dear, We are not as concerned with the crew getting cold or having to endure zero-gs as long as the pursuit of scientific advancement is unimpeded as little as possible." Kuantus expressed.

"They've all been issued winter weather uniforms anyways, and the zero-g workouts will do them all a bit of good. I think our first action should be to get some men to find some GNK power droids and get them down to the research decks." Gage suggested, and Kuat approved for at least his aide was thinking proactively. Gage floated across the executive office and went back out into the hallway. Kuat heard him discussing something with the two guards who had been stationed there. He returned a moment later.

"The guards are going to find the Admiral and tell him that you desire a full report from him as soon as possible. They are also going to seek out several runners and couriers to fulfill your every request, your Lordship."
"Excellent. The research stations that should be powered up first are the ones that are dealing with accelerator gates, hydroponic vats, energy farms, hyper-glycolic fuel cells, individual field disrupters, cloaking shadows, particle accelerator tubes, nanowaves, and any experiment that is temperature or light sensitive. We wouldn't mind if you got Our datapad powered up as soon as possible also. Niobe your idea of the solar sailers is well founded, but we may only have to power up one of our shuttles already onboard. Until then We will have to rely on the judgment of the Chief Researchers onboard Our other starships to make the right decisions in regards to which experiments to save."

"That is true, Kuat of Kuat, but do you have any idea's what might have caused this?" Niobe asked.

"Yes We do, Gage is the door locked?" Gage nodded in affirmative. "If we consider outside sources, there are many places to lay the blame."

"As long as the shareholders can never trace any wrong doings back to KDY, isn't that right." Niobe acknowledged. "That is what you always taught me." Kuat smiled, he had educated his aide well over the years.

"Without the HoloNews we will have to find a new way to spin this story, Kuat of Kuat." Gage said.

"This is different, my aides, this time We only have to fool one man and not a large group of shareholders. We must shield the eyes of Fleet Admiral Yos from seeing that this may have been caused within the sphere of the Third Kuati Fleet."

"How would he actually know that we are responsible for this anyways?" Gage asked.

"We have a strong suspicion that the experiments of Dr. Falken regarding wormholes may have thrown the fleet out of hyperspace or at the least altered our intended destination, but these are views We are not prepared to go public with at this time."

"We understand." His aides echoed.

"We will suggest that we were hit by an Ion weapon upon entering the maw."

"I'm not sure we are in the maw Kuat of Kuat. When we looked at our fleet's location we also noticed the presence of a large gas giant within this system. It was my understanding that there wasn't anything larger than a small planetoid inside of the maw." Niobe queried.

"That's right, I believe that was the reason Fleet Admiral Yos was hauling around that monstrous Cardon I-class Spacestation in the supply line. It was meant to form the foundation of a base once we arrived there." Gage explained. "It's only got a skeletal crew onboard now, but I remember there wasn't much more than asteroids in the maw."

"We can see an asteroid field right there," Kuat pointed out the viewport and into distant space, "Perhaps we can fool the Admiral into thinking we are in some unexplored region of the maw. Tarkin himself only discovered the entrance to the maw ten years ago, it can't have been fully explored yet. In any case, that would be our best bet to deflect the blame."

"Another method we could use would be to suggest the failure of the slave rig device. I know it succeeded in bringing the Third Fleet to the Horuz System from Kuat, but that doesn't mean those highly undependable devices would work for a much larger fleet. We could spin it as a second Katana Disaster all over again." Niobe spun.

"I agree your Lordship; this could be our strongest argument. We can even parade a few lowly technicians out for a show trial or something to that effect."

"We suggest that we put out a public statement that we strongly suspect sabotage of the slave rig. It would have the Imperials chasing each other's tails in no time. This We would approve highly of. We think Yos would deserve that after banning research before the jump, secondly Niobe we should be the first to discover where exactly we are." He watched as his aides agreed "This information will be greatly appreciated by the Admiral when he comes looking for answers."
"It would definitely throw him off our tracks for some time." Niobe suggested. There was a knock on the door and the three Kuati looked at each other. "I'll get it, Kuat of Kuat." She glided across the room and slid the door open. The pushed backwards once again and let Admiral Hadrian floatingly follow her into the room.

"What is the situation with the flagship, Admiral?" Kuantus asked.

The Admiral approached and whipped off a quick Kuati salute, and Kuat returned one half heartedly as was his usual style. "Kuat of Kuat, I am here to report a total loss of all starship systems. We are also experiencing a mysterious disappearance of all fuel material for our reactors." Kuat was stunned, but listened intently. "All power on every deck, including the research ones, has failed. We thought about plugging in the few Gonks we have onboard, but they seem to be empty as well." Kuat looked at Gage who frowned in return.

"We are currently using a system of glow rods and crewmen, as runners, to get anywhere in the ship. As you can imagine it is quite dark in most of the ship. We have also failed to make contact with any of the ships around us, but we have ascertained that we won't collide with any of them in the near future."

"How do you figure that Admiral?" Kuantus asked.

"I have a whole gaggle of navigation technicians up on the command deck. They assure me that every ship in the fleet seems to be maintaining each individual starship's original position in the formation. The argument up there at the moment is whether or not we are actually moving since no one can tell with the sensors being down."

"We believe we're not feeling the effects of a large unknown gas giant behind us, but there's no telling how long that will last either at this point. Another oddity is that the ships turbolasers and individual blasters have all lost their gas supply. We're not sure if all the gas leaked out or just vanished."

"That is interesting, Admiral. I can already think of a dozen theories I'd like to try as experiments, based on what you've reported. Return to the bridge and leave some of your runners with me. I will be up there some time later in the day. Do not hesitate to report any major developments to me promptly. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir." Kuat was glad, because he usually found he had to explain things to military men twice.

"Dismissed, Admiral." The officer saluted again and left the room.

"Niobe, Gage, find something to write with. We have several ideas for experiments that We don't want to lose." No, you can't stop science he thought. Not even if you turn out the lights and hide it in the dark.

100m Blaster Range, Crew's Billets, Imperial II class SD- Quill

The last stormtrooper seemed to be the heaviest sleeper Phasma had ever heard of. She could even hear the male's snores right through his helmet. His sergeant came over and pushed the trooper downwards so that he slammed into the deck. The sudden crash seemed enough to jar the trooper awake.

"Sorry about that, ma'am, ER-8546 has problems staying awake, even when he's on duty. Isn't that right 8546, like your nap?" The NCO explained.

"That's right, Sergeant." The trooper answered as he took off his helmet. "How come we're floating?"

Phasma answered the male, "That's what we were trying to discern while you were sleeping, trooper." She turned to the stormtrooper sergeant and lieutenant that were floating nearby. "Still no luck with the commo, men?"

"No, ma'am." The lieutenant answered. "We even tried the bigger hyperwave comset we got for company operations and that's dead as well. Which is bad because usually we can talk to other nearby starships with that thing."

She pointed her blaster down the range and squeezed the trigger, as had happened every time since she woke up the thing just clicked with no other visible results. She was getting frustrated that she wasn't receiving any answers from anyone. She wondered what her father was doing to solve this; she refused to think of the possibility that her father could be dead.

"I still think we took some kind of hit from an energy weapon of some sort, ma'am. Knocked us all out as well." The sergeant offered. "Fleet boys will have us all set right before too long. They don't like floating around like a bunch of novatroopers, seems a bit too much like real work for the vacheads."

"Not any kind of weapon I've heard of." she brushed aside a glow rod that came near her head. With almost a hundred stormtroopers on the range a bright green glare illuminated the hold from all the spare glow rods that floated around unattended. The sergeant had given her several unsnapped ones that she had shoved into her pockets for later use. "There are Ion cannons out there, but they only knock out ships, not their crews. Maybe it was some kind of biomechanical virus someone developed that attacks beings as well as machines?"

"Could be, ma'am, except the corpmen are reporting there's nothing wrong with any of these troopers, except for a few cases of nausea. Oh and everyone's pretty hungry as well." She made a face at the Lieutenant. "We're trying to keep the nauseous boys over there on the other side of the range," he pointed in the direction, "it'll help if there are any accidents." Phasma tried not to imagine what it would be like to run into vomit in zero-g.

"We need to get these lights back on and some artificial gravity around here."

"You need to talk to someone in engineering, us stormtroopers are good at blowing up power sources, but not so good at creating them." He was right of course; there were probably thousands of crewmen getting the problem fixed. It was just frustrating that she couldn't help out. She couldn't even go to the bridge, her father would be happy to see her of course, but the Fleet Admiral would send her to her quarters as soon as he was assured she was alright.
An E-Web tripod glided past her trailing its battery system. The thing was as dry as the rest of the blasters on the ship but it suddenly gave her an idea. She pushed herself towards the weapons barrel and seized it, and then propelled herself back to the other troopers. "These things still need a few minutes to set up in combat right?" She asked. Her mind was slowly connecting the navpoints.

"Yeah, they can be a pain in the back side when you're under fire sometimes, but once they're up and running they can be a stormtrooper's best friend."

"What do you do if the barrel overheats?" The cadet asked.

"The assistant gunner can change out the barrel in less than six seconds; he does the same with the power generator. If he notices the Ck3 cryocooler units aren't doing their job properly he can flip a solar panel on the side of it on, and it boosts their power." The sergeant explained.

"It's too bad we don't have any solar panels mounted on the Quill. We could have her recharged within the hour." She suggested.

"I guess they figured her reactors had always worked just wizard, ma'am. Why change a good thing and all that." The lieutenant answered, but Phasma knew they had some on board, even if no one else realized it.

"Loot, I'm going to need you to get me to the hanger bays."

The officer just looked at her quizzically and then shrugged his shoulders. "Ma'am, I think it'd be better if you just stayed here till they got the ship up and running. There's a lot of trouble someone like you could find if you go floating about the ship in zero-g."

"I appreciate that, Lieutenant, but if you just send some of your able troopers with me I should more than able to manage." The command presence she had learned from her father started to rise in her voice and the officer started to waver.
"I suppose I can give you a couple of men, but I have to remain here with the rest of the platoon until we receive some orders." He signaled his two platoon corporals over to him. The two men pushed off a target and glided up to the officer. "You two are to accompany Cadet Yos here to the hangers, um, which hanger, Cadet."
"Beta, Alpha's probably still empty from the ceremony this morning."

"Take her to Beta hanger and follow her orders, report back here as soon as you're done. Dismissed." Cadet Yos felt as if the dismissal had been aimed at her as well, and guided the two junior NCOs out the doorway of the range.
"Bastard was patronizing me." She mumbled under her breath, and she was sure the two corporals were pretending not to have heard her.

The starship's passageways were filled with free floating debris. Dozens of engineers and other technicians made their way to and fro from one compartment to another. She overheard a steady drone of dozens of conversations and heated arguments as they made their way to the lifts. She picked up on the fact that her father was still alive and giving orders which relieved her to no end, she also heard that all non-essential personnel had been ordered to stay in their quarters until the resumption of normal ship operations. The scariest thing she heard was that nobody seemed to know how they had gotten in this predicament in the first place, and nobody seemed to know how to get them back out of it.
The lifts were stuck on different decks above them when they arrived, but three technicians were helping other crewmen move between the decks with a series of cables and ropes. The men were more than happy to help the daughter of the Admiral reach the lower decks. One of the cables had been run around a pulley on both ends of the lift shaft. All Phasma had to do was float into the shaft, grab hold of the cable, and the technicians would do the rest. Within seconds the three of them were hurling down the shaft. The lack of gravity caused Phasma to spin from centrifugal force all the way down thirty five decks until they reached the hanger levels. She felt as if she might be sick herself when their crazy ride came to an end.

She straitened her uniform and gestured for the two troopers to follow her as she pushed herself off of the back of the shaft. With no gravity to stop her she glided almost two hundred meters before she reached the airlock to Beta hanger. Unfortunately, she missed grabbing the frame of the airlock and continued to hurl down the hallway. Her journey took a sudden wrenching stop, and when she turned to see what had arrested her motion, she was suddenly thankful for her escort. One of the troopers had grabbed hold of the airlock while the other had a hold of his foot and his other hand on the back of her uniform.

"Careful there, ma'am, you almost didn't get off at your stop." The trooper ribbed her.

"Thank you, Corporal." With her forward motion stopped she was able to gently glide over to the airlock's viewport. She looked in and noticed several hanger crewmen moving about, so she decided it must be safe to enter. The two stormtroopers pried open the airlock doors and the three of them flew into the hanger. She bounced off a TIE support rack and headed in the direction of a few men in TIE pilot uniforms. Before she realized she couldn't stop herself, she recognized First Lieutenant Roblin.

"Whoa, are you astral there, Cadet?"

"Blood stripes, Medal of Valor, a promotion, and now Admiral's daughters are flinging themselves in your arms. Some pilots catch all the breaks." A TIE pilot Major standing next to Roblin stated. Phasma noted all those rewards adorning her favorite pilot and believed the handsome brunette deserved them. How he had got them without her finding out was a complete mystery.

"Are you men doing anything?" she asked. A nearby Gonk droid came floating by and she stopped it and maneuvered it so that she could act as if she was sitting upon the poor depowered droid. "How would you like to take a girl for a ride?"

"Ma'am, all of our TIEs are down, besides we don't have any shielding for the hanger if we go outside." The Major spoke up.

"Well boys have I got an opportunity for you if you're willing to take a bit of a risk."

The two men looked at each other and then back at the young cadet. "We'll it's got to be better than hanging out in here and slowly freezing to death." Roblin answered.

She was glad he was the one who spoke up. "Oh, it will be, trust me."
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Hanger Beta, Imperial II class SD – Quill
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"I've got a bad feeling about this." Since the comlink in his helmet was out, he must be talking to himself Roblin figured. At least he was warm, if not downright toasty.

They had only been able to dislodge the first TIE/in Starfighter from the left most rack in the hanger. The hanger crew had locked the other two racks into place while they had performed routine maintenance on the fighters. When the power cut out this morning, there was no way of repowering the racks until someone found a way to get the juice flowing again. The technicians had been able to unhitch his fighter from the launch position and then literally kicked it out into the open hanger area. They had tried to move the next TIE into the launch position, but without any power in the racks, the blasted starfighters were all firmly stuck in place. Not that it would have done any good; because there wasn't any juice in the one TIE they had been able to get free anyways. The Tie banged loudly against the armored shield doors of the hanger, and flipped upside down on its return trip across the hanger.

When the small cadet had told Major Vertitas and him her plan, they both thought she was asking them to their deaths. Since she technically couldn't order them to do it, it had been up to Vertitas to command him into the one fighter they had freed up. Once more the Major was disappearing when danger loomed, but the-powers-that-be gave him the Medal of Valor and it was time to show them that they hadn't made a mistake.

The upside down starfighter was barreling straight back towards the TIE pilot, as he held onto a grate on the deck for stability. He braced his legs and ducked his head. At the precise moment the fighter was over him he jumped up and slammed into the crafts ejection chair. He was too slow turning himself to sit right in the chair before the TIE crashed back into the launch racks where it finally came to rest.

The Admiral's daughter popped her head in the cockpit. "Got yourself settled in, sir?"

She squeaked, at least he could have swore her voice squeaked. He still didn't know what to make of taking suggestions from a cadet, but this one definitely had the right connections to get everyone to follow along with her plan.

"Yep, kiddo," he yelled so she could hear him through his helmet, as you could only make out a pilot's voice through his air hoses that connected to his fully-sealed flight suit's air filters. He started to strap himself into the seat's crash netting, when he felt just how sore his shoulders still were from his injuries a week ago. He put the aches out of his mind and had to check himself. Usually at this point he would be performing his pre-flight checklist, but with a totally dead stick like this craft, what was the point. "You sure this plan of yours is going to work, Ma'am?" Even that felt strange to say to a ten year old.

"We've got to do something, Captain. We aren't doing anyone any good just hanging around a dark hanger." She gestured out into the bay which was lit with a mix of trooper's green glow rods and landing crew's red glow cones that worked on the same chemicals as the stormtrooper's lights. It actually gave the hanger a bit of a festive feeling.

"I guess, cadet. It's a pretty technical gamble though; I'm surprised you're the only one that thought of it." He could be mistaken, but he was pretty sure the girl was blushing. She'd be pretty cute in a couple of years he figured, and then tried to erase the thought from his mind as fast as it had come to him.

"Thanks, Captain, I got you these so you don't freeze too bad out there." She passed about twenty thermal blankets up to him as he adjusted them for insulation and buried them across his lap. Usually he would have been too proud to bury himself in blankets, but after waiting for the space search and rescue boys to reach him at the Death Star construction site, he knew just how fatally cold it could be out there.

He made sure his hands could still reach the controls and then sat back and waited. The cadet ducked back outside and he could just barely hear her giving orders to the flight deck crew. There were quite a few thumps and clanks coming from the starfighter around him as the plan started taking shape, and the flight crew prepped his fighter. This was crazy, he kept telling himself.

"You snug in there, Captain?" Vertitas had returned and floated himself up to Roblin's hatch. "I got something for you." He pushed an air tank into the compartment and stored it behind Roblin's seat." I got it from the seatrooper's equipment locker. If your air starts to get too much of that carbon dioxide feeling to it out there, just open this up for a few seconds. Deck Chief says that you should bleed out some of your cabin pressure first or you could have an explosive reaction, if you get my drift."

"I hear you, Sir." It didn't take much to imagine what it would be like for him if the air pressure blew apart his starfighter. This time there wouldn't be any search and rescue either, especially if what he was hearing about the rest of the fleet was true.

The cadet popped back in, "We're ready when you are, sirs. The flight crew is clearing out right now. Everyone is moving to the control room, one deck up, to watch."

"Who's operating the manual release then?" Vertitas asked her.

"I got a couple of Stormies that will stay behind in the airlock and they can work the release and then get out. Their suits will keep them alive for a bit in a vacuum environment."

"That sounds good, Cadet. You got everything you think you'll need, Captain?" Roblin gave his superior a thumbs up. The Cadet ducked back out and headed for the airlock. Vertitas hesitated for a minute, then handed Roblin a small orb. "I got this off those seatroopers as well, it still seems to be working too. If things come down to it out there, you at least have a way out." Roblin looked at the small thermal detonator and tucked it under the blankets. He nodded to the major, and somewhere deep down appreciated the gesture. If things went south on this mission, there really wasn't any going home again.

The Major closed the two hatch covers and locked them into place so that the compartment was completely airtight. He waited a minute and then heard the faint sounds of the airlock closing. He heard a giant clang of metallic noise echo across the hanger and then something else metallic sounded as if it was snapping loose. A few seconds of silence passed followed by a giant crashing noise as if someone dropped a horrendously huge chain somewhere nearby. Roblin swiveled his head back and forth in a vain attempt to determine the sound's direction. There was a loud pop, and suddenly all noise ceased.
He watched as the TIE moved away from its resting spot against the launch racks and floated in a somersault manner back across the hanger. For a split second he made out Cadet Yos and Major Vertitas in the green lit Control Bay overlooking the hanger. He swore the Admiral's daughter was waving at him. The TIE righted itself just in time for it to slam into the armored shield. It was a completely silent crash, except for the noise he made inside the cockpit. He checked his solar arrays to make sure they hadn't crumpled. Dozens of tiny pieces of debris and glow rods were quickly drifting to the left of his craft. For a second he thought he was stuck but noticed a slight vibration in his starfighter as it slid towards a widening gap in the armor.

They had done it, he thought. At first he had doubted they would ever get the door opened manually, but the little cadet had known of a way. One array slid out of the crack and his TIE sat at a slant for another minute. An empty pilot's helmet bounced off of his viewport and headed off into empty space. Roblin breathed a sigh of relief that the thing hadn't cracked his viewport. A second later The TIE was free and spinning out of control into the blackness of space. The veteran pilot quickly lost his orientation, and the loss of control was giving him the scare of a lifetime.

Suddenly there was a neck-wrenching jerk as the craft came to an abrupt stop. Through the viewport he watched as the durasteel cables that were attached to his TIE stretched back several hundred meters into the open hanger's wrench machine. He was dangling like a fish on a hook beneath the giant Star Destroyer. He flipped on his solar arrays with no effect. "Alright, this is going to take a minute." He said to himself. He checked his arrays again and laughed to himself at the sight of five Gonk droids bolted to the inside of each array. It was the last sight he saw before his viewport completely iced over from the inside. He hadn't thought about what it would be like without regular atmospheric controls functioning. He decided to wait it out, as he gripped the small thermal detonator in the palm of his right hand. Wait and see, he told himself.

Twenty standard minutes passed and the weight and warmth of the blankets started having their effect, and soon Roblin felt his eyes getting heavy. He started fishing around in his pockets for a stim stick, he found one and downed its contents as quickly as he could, and he felt the energy cursing through him in just a few heartbeats. A small red light suddenly appeared on the control board, indicating computer core start-up. "I'll be Kesseled. She was right." Near the bottom of his viewport he noticed the icing was starting to clear as the starfighter's atmospheric adjusters started to come back online.
He hit the controls and followed start up instructions. Soon he was kicking off the blankets as the starship's heater kicked back on. He started transferring power to the Gonks along power conduits Phasma had the ground crew install on the TIE's phase two energy collection coils. A few anxious moments later he noted several of the GNK power droids kicking their short stubby legs back and forth. He continued to observe them on the craft's sensors as they would take a few minutes before they were fully charged. He flipped on his TIE's flight computer and watched as the subspace radar showed him the position of every ship in the fleet. He was suddenly in awe, as he realized he was the most powerful man in the fleet at the moment. Too bad the laser cannons were empty of Tibanna, and he had no liquid fuel for the twin ion engine.

A chime from the monitor rang out and Roblin noted that all ten Gonks as well as his snubfighter was fully powered up. He made sure his starfighter was orientated back towards the hanger. His viewport was now mostly clear of frost, and flashed his cabin lights several times. He kept flashing them and his running lights until he noticed the vibration of the cables as they were slowly pulling him back towards the hanger. A few glow rods had been taped to the deck of the hanger so that he had some idea where he was heading. The wench on the far end was manned by several Zero-G assault stormtroopers that Roblin was sure weren't there when he left. He wondered how they got the airlock to work as he edged slowly into the bay. They stopped their work when the TIE was fully in the hanger.

A few minutes of floating in zero-g before sound returned to the hanger, the radar told him they had been closing the armor shield while he waited. The giant chain noise rang through the hanger again as the airlock opened and air was flowing back into the hanger.

The TIE pilot opened his own hatch this time and stood high above the crowd entering the hanger. He removed his helmet and raised his arm to their cheers. "Did somebody order some power?" He yelled out.
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Command Bridge, Imperial II class SD- Quill, Unknown Space

This was quite possibly the worse day of his entire career in the Imperial Navy. His entire command was in jeopardy, and there wasn't a kriffing thing he could do about it. No matter what happened he was determined to stay on the bridge of his flagship. The only way he could get even the smallest feeling of what was going on onboard his starship was through a system of runners. He had enrolled most of the bridge crew into finding answer to his queries that would sometimes take them away from the command bridge for hours at a time. His system wasn't fast, but it worked, as the Fleet Admiral was slowly putting a picture together of what was happening on the Quill.

Everything from shield generators, inertia dampers, and life support were all dependant on the starship's reactors for them to run. The bad news was everything they could use for fuel for the reactors had somehow disappeared from the ship's stores and bunkers. Worse they seemed to be near an asteroid field and a gas giant, and he had already overheard speculation over which would destroy the fleet first. His own bet was on the gas giant, as it seemed to have already arrested the fleet's forward motion. That was just a guess of course, that asteroid belt in front of them could have been a few hundred thousand kilometers ahead of them or maybe just a few dozen kilometers, it was almost impossible to check without the ship's sensors. The thing was probably full of pirates as well. He looked over to the crewwoman still manning the central weapon ops station, and knew the female officer was trying to figure out the mystery of the missing Tibanna gas. He wished he had more time to dedicate to that problem as well. If pirates did emerge from those asteroids he'd be forced to give it his entire focus.

A science officer approached and gave him the latest estimates on the gas giant behind the fleet. Yos was surprised by the report written on flimsiplast instead of the normal mode of a datapad presentation, but all handheld devices had been wiped out as well. He glanced over the data; it seemed as if no one from navigation could identify the big planet either, but the thing that was scaring everybody was that it had a mass of an estimated 1.7986×1027 kilograms and a circumference of at least 69,000 ± 4 kilometers. With dimensions like that the science teams were predicting that in just a little over four weeks the fleet was going to start losing starships to its gravitational well, if they didn't get moving before that. As if he didn't have enough problems he mused.

The deck officer floated near the entrance to the bridge and controlled the flow of traffic from the rest of the starship. He waved an officer forward and the man pushed himself across to where Captain Nake and Yos held court over the messengers. This particular officer was from two decks below in the Quill's main computer core, and Yos knew before the man spoke what he would say.

"There's no way we can get the computer up without power, sir."

"We know that, son, but how long after we restore power can you get the thing running again. So many other systems depend on you guys down there." Captain Nake asked the officer.

"It'll take three hours for a full start-up, after that we can give support to the rest of the Quill as far as minimum power levels allow."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Commander." The man saluted his two superiors and did his best to return to his station, as the deck officer waved the next runner forward, this time from the ship's cargo holds. This new man looked pale as he approached.

"It's as we feared, Admiral Yos. Ninety-nine percent of the solid materials are missing, but they had been connected to the reactors by a series of conveyors. So Commander Charge thinks the reactors might have tapped into them when they were starting to go low. Out of the Gas Storage Unit we found that we only had the oxygen and nitrogen tanks remaining, oh, and a couple of anesthesia tanks they use in the MedBay, but all the gas we had for the turrets is gone."

"Which tanks exactly?" Yos asked.

"We are drawing empty on the orveth, prothium, sig, eleton, tibanna, tolim and skevon for the turbolasers. Also the tanks for all our chemical and biological weapons seem to be dry as well. We checked and are sure they didn't leak anywhere onboard either. The good news is the liquid stores seem pretty much intact, so we have all the water and bacta we need."
"That's something at least; at least we won't die of dehydration. Anything else, Lieutenant?" The man shook his head and Captain Nake dismissed him. The next man was Commander Yutu.

"How are you doing, Yutu? You look a little ragged." Captain Nake asked.

"I've been up and down the length of the Quill under my own power a few times in the past couple of hours, sir." The young commander let out a long breath. "It can be quite the workout. The tractor beam crews are saying we are out of luck without any power, so if the rest of the fleet is like us they won't be able to get a lock on us if they start floating away."

Yos let out a hiss as he had hoped to use the beams if starships started falling out of the line and towards the gas giant. "Secondly, the navigation boys are reporting that they aren't recognizing any of the local or galactic constellations anywhere. I'll let you make your own assumptions about that. Lastly, someone blew the hanger bay door on Beta hanger wide open about an hour and a half ago. I was down in the life support pod about twenty minutes ago and I could see that it had been closed again, but the Quill's on the move again because of the decompression."
"How much would you say?" Yos was suddenly afraid of being blown away from his fleet without being able to do a thing to stop it.

"If I had to guess I'd say by as much as a foot out of formation every hour. We should have a good view of the rest of the fleet getting sucked into that giant behind us." Yutu reported.

"That's defeatist talk, Commander. It's a good thing there isn't any ISB around or I'd have to have you lined up against that wall over there." Yos joked with the man. "Don't worry, we'll think of something well before it comes to that. Now I'm going to need you to get down to the hangers and tell whatever barve is having fun with our doors down there to knock it off."
"Yes, sir." He gave the senior officers a type of half salute before spinning around and moving on his way. Captain Nake gave him a raised eyebrow before the next officer made his way over.

"That's some serious news there. You think we might have ourselves a saboteur aboard." The Captain asked.
"ISB could have got one on the Quill at the last minute while we were sitting in the Horuz. I want to know as soon as possible who ordered that hanger bay door opened and have him brought to me, other than that you and I have got to keep our eyes and ears open for any suspicious behavior amongst the crew."

"You can count on me." Captain Nake assured him.

The next officer to report came from the MedBay and updated the Admiral on shipboard casualties. Besides the death of a senior NCO who was found in his quarters with a suspected myocardial infarction there hadn't been any other fatalities. They had their fair share of broken bones, bruises, and smashed limbs from the crew flailing about in the dark. Yos had ordered the opening of the stores and had supply crew hand out glow rods to whoever needed them.

In the middle of the man's report the overhead lighting system flicked on for a few seconds. Every man and woman on the bridge stopped their conversations and held their breaths as they all looked at the lights flickering in and out of life. It was a heart pounding moment, before the lights finally stayed on, but on their dimmest setting.

"Well I'll be. It looks like Commander Charge has got one of the reactors running." Captain Nake observed.

"I wonder what he's using for fuel. Is there anything else, Lieutenant?" Yos asked the medical officer, who indicated the negative and retreated back to the MedBay. Yos waved off the next officer and indicated to the deck officer to give the Captain and him a break to confer. He motioned for Nake to follow him to the forward viewport to discuss the latest event. As they moved forward he noticed that they were gently gliding back towards the deck, until they almost had to walk the last few steps of their journey. "Looks like Inertial Dampers are coming back on line."

"It will be a little while before they have us back at a 1g setting. That's astral though, because I could stand to lose a few pounds." Nake joked.

"You and me both." They reached the viewport and turned to over look the bridge. Several crew members were unfastening the straps that held them into place at their stations, while others were commenting on and watching the slow fall of the dozens of items of debris around the bridge. Yos noted the flow of air starting to blow out of the vent above them.
"I don't feel any vibrations from the engines or the reactors like you normally do." His Captain observed.

"Yes, I just noticed that too. I think that engineering might have found some active batteries somewhere and plugged them into life support."

"That would explain why we can't feel any of the major systems working. We need to get Commander Charge up here before he uses anymore of whatever power he found all up." Captain Nake's voice sounded urgent and on the edge of desperation.

"I agree, Captain." Commander Charge's voice cut across the bridge. Fleet Admiral Yos turned to see his chief engineer approaching with a looping gait in the low g atmosphere. He was relieved that they wouldn't have to send for the man, but his relief turned to pleasant surprise when he recognized the small figure following in the commander's wake.

"Hello, Cadet Yos." Captain Nake greeted her.

"I'm glad to see you're still around and getting into trouble, Jawa." Yos smiled at his only child, who quickly turned pink at the nickname.

"Cadet Yos and Commander Charge reporting, Fleet Admiral." Her father beamed with pride at her salute. He knew it irked her when he didn't show her rank any respect. He would make sure to address her properly in future formal occasions.
"I take it, this is your handiwork, Charge?" Nake motioned towards the overhead lighting panels. Yos was starting to feel his
own weight in his feet again as the gravity slowly caught up with 1g.

"Actually, we have someone else to thank for that, but first let me tell you what has happened." Charge demurred.
'Proceed, Commander."

"We were able to procure ten fully-charged GNK power droids, which we were able to plug into the life support systems along with the inertial dampers and we were even able to get one up to the MedBay. We figure that each one can run those systems at twenty percent for ten hours apiece before they have to be recharged. The Gonk we sent to the MedBay however can probably last a week before it has to be changed out, as long as there's no sudden large influx of casualties."

"That's good, but do you have a way to recharge the Gonks." Yos asked.

"Yes sir, but it's a little unorthodox. I'm surprised none of my boys in engineering thought of it. It's a little wild idea that your daughter here came up with." Charge indicated the young cadet.

"What?" Yos looked back and forth from the commander to Phasma.

"Yes, it was her plan that got the GNKs powered up in the first place."

"Cadet Yos, do you want to explain yourself, and your plan?" Yos tried to give her his most authoritive command voice.

"Um, yes, sir." His daughter launched into an explanation which included a TIE fighter, some spacetroopers, and a bunch of Gonk droids. Evidently she had used an unpowered TIE on a string to power up a bunch of the droids and was able to reel back in the whole contraption. It was a simple and genius plan that just might have saved the fleet.

"We have another TIE about to launch with the last ten Gonks we have onboard already attached." Commander Charge broke in. "With her system in place we should be able to power the Quill indefinitely, and hopefully get the turbolifts working again. Now if we can only come up with a source of fuel, we would truly be open for business."

"Keep looking, Commander. Do we have power to the Quill's running lights? I'd like to inform the rest of the fleet of the Phasma Plan." Yos could see the grin growing across his daughter's face.

"Yes, of course, Admiral. I also have these for you." The Commander handed over two personal SoroSuub Hush-98 comlinks to the Fleet Admiral and the Captain. "I had these charged up before we came up here. You can reach me on the engineering channel."

"Thank you, Commander, I'm sure I'll be in contact with you before you even get back to your station. Dismissed." Commander Charge nodded in his normal no nonsense way and strolled back out the bridge passageway.
"Well Captain, what should we to do with our intrepid little Cadet here are." Yos asked slyly.

"It seems she was out wondering around the ship after you had ordered that all nonessential personnel remain in their quarters. And I think I heard right when I heard that she grossly misused Imperial property in means it was never intended to fill." The two elder officers noticed the way Phasma started to sweat it out. "How about two BCs" Phasma's youthful face turned to confusion at the odd abbreviation.

"Two, I was thinking one, but it is your ship." Yos conceded. He was more than happy to jump up his daughter's rank past ensign, which she would have gotten when she graduated from the Academy anyways. "Phasma Yos for your service to this fleet I hereby award you the rank of Second Lieutenant." His daughter looked like she would burst with joy. She tried to whip off an official salute, but threw her arms around her father's neck instead.

"Thank you, Dad."

"No, thank you Jawa, for giving me back my fleet."
---------------------------------------------------
Command Bridge, Acclamator II-class Assault Ship Fool

"Is the Quill doing what I think its doing?" Bly exclaimed.

The rest of the collection of Clone Marshal Commanders turned and looked out of the Command Bridge's viewport. Almost one hundred ships ahead of them in the line was the giant Imperial II-class Star Destroyer the Quill, and the only starship of her class in Tarkin's Fist. At over two thousand meters and armed with eight giant barbette turbolaser turrets, along with two huge service hangers, an oversized super structure with the state-of-the-art computer core, as well as four powerful sublight engines the Quill usually had no problems getting noticed in a crowd.

It was her current odd behavior that had caught Bly's attention. Cody floated to the viewport as he fiddled with his bacta-bandaged nose. The thing was obviously broken from his impact with the transpiristeel when the lights went out. He wished the macrobinoculars on his helmet were working, as he could have used them to check every nut and bolt on the fleet's flagship, instead he found himself having to squint to check out whatever his vod was indicating. As far as he could tell the Quill wasn't doing anything that interesting, besides what seemed like a bit of a drift upwards from the rest of the fleet, but even that was hardly noticeable.

"What? I don't see anything, vod." Bacara stated.

"Wait for it, Cod'ika." The clones waited patiently. They had been doing that for the past few hours. Clone Admiral Commander Bacara had spent the time getting a perspective of the condition of the Fool. Everything was completely zero percent for the warship's systems, and they had been debating for the past hour how to go about gathering up some new solid plasma fuel for the starship's sublight engines. Their little enterprise was off to a dismal start. That was until Bly got
their attention. "It'll happen again just wait."

The five clones waited in silence. Bacara let out an audible long breath to show his annoyance from being delayed with dealing with the starship's woes. It had been an extremely stressful day for all of them, and patience for Bly's delay was starting to wear thin. Just when Cody thought he had enough and wanted to turn and return to the weapon ops station where they were trying to figure out the disappearance of all the Fool's tibanna, the Quill lit up.
Against the darkness of space and almost a thousand other blackened starships the running lights of the Quill stood out like a beacon. They flashed on and off again in a series of regular flashes and pauses. Cody ran his mind thru all the Imperial codes he knew, but came up blank.

"It's Old Republic Ship Signal Code in Aurabesh." Wolffe broke in.

"I concur." Neyo threw in, "It looks like they have restored some of their starship's functions." Cody recognized the series of flashes now and started to follow along. It was an incredible story. "Did they really dangle a TIE pilot on a cable to restore some Gonks?" Neyo asked.

"Brave lad there, bet he was wondering if he'd make it back in one piece the whole time." Bacara said.
"He probably was concerned most with trying not to freeze before his air ran out, sir." Cody added.

"What would we have to do to get the same effect onboard the Fool?" Bacara asked.

"It would be difficult, sir. The Acclamator class warships aren't equipped with the same type of hangers as the Quill." Wolffe explained. "First off, we don't have manual release on our hanger, which was a failsafe that was only installed under Palpatine on the newer ships. Secondly our hanger doors cover the entire foredeck of the Fool and cover every squadron we have onboard. If we did somehow open them we would lose a third of the ship's atmosphere with no way to replace it with the ship's oxygen plant depowered. The good news is we do have two squadrons of TIE/in starfighters on board. It could take a few days, but we might be able to dismantle one and somehow get it outside with the use of one of the Fool's smaller airlocks. I don't know how we would reassemble the thing again without any of the Zero-G assault clones having their armor juiced up."

The men thought for a few minutes. The Quill was a long ways down the line for someone to run them a power cable, besides the Quill was reporting that it was only at four percent power itself, with no fuel, and that the other ships-of-the-line should try their idea on their own. It would be rancor eat rancor for a time amongst the fleet. It wasn't like anyone had any fuel to maneuver closer to the Fool.

"Vode, I sure could use a Bantha Blaster right about now." Bly thought out loud, and the rest of the Marshals nodded in agreement.

"Wait, we still got a squadron of Eta-3 Actis starfighters and a few of those old Alpha-4 Nimbus class V-wing starfighters down in the squadron bays right?" Cody asked.

"Yeah, but . . ." Wolffe answered. Before he could fully get his answer out, Cody had pushed off the wall and was shooting across the bridge. Within a minute he was dropping between the decks along one of the turbolift shafts. He popped a few of the old Clone War era blue glow rods to light his way as he dropped into the abyss. When he hit the hanger deck he grasped the lips of the turbolift door to stop his motion. He pulled himself up with a single jerk, did a flip and propelled himself down the hallway. Nobody could accuse him of losing a step in his old age. Behind him he heard the flow of another
kama, and looked over his shoulder to see Bly following closely.

"I figured it out a second after you." His fellow clone commander explained.

"Good, I could probably use a hand getting the thing off."

They shot past a few clones working on a power couplet and hurdled a group of younglings playing a game of blades with glow rods in an access maintenance shaft. Cody and Bly pushed aside a group of R2 astromech droids that floated powerlessly along the passageway leading to the hanger.

When they shoved a door aside to enter the assault bay of the hanger they were surprised when it rattled shut again behind them. Bly just smiled, "Must be hydraulics or springs, wish the whole fleet ran on them."

"It'd be an interesting sight to see a fleet operating on springs." Cody agreed, "Fun time for the crews as well." As they made their way along the hanger they noticed that most of the clone troopers onboard, that had nothing to do in the blackout, had congregated in the hanger. Dozens of clones rested along the walls or were lounged upon lifeless AT-TEs, AT-STs, or speederbikes that had floated around the hanger when their repulse lifts had given out. Many of them snapped to attention in the blue-lit bay as the two Marshals made their appearance, but Cody just waved them to relax. Bly gave a salute to two clones that had served him on Feluscia during the war. Cody was sure Bacara wouldn't have liked all of this inactivity below decks, but he wouldn't be the one to tell him about it either.

"Where are the Eta-3 bays?" he asked a pilot who was nearby.

"They're over that way about two hundred yards, beyond the MAAT/c line, Sir." The pilot indicated. Cody motioned for Bly to follow.

The Eta-3 Actis Starfighter was the next generation of snubfighter decended from the Clone War veteran Eta-2s. The line had unfortunately been passed over by Imperial Procurement in favor of the TIE series from Seiner Fleet Systems. Across the bay a few TIE racks sat in silence, as if watching their passed over brethren in smug superiority. The main difference between the Eta-3 and its predecessor the Eta-2 was the replacement of the radiator heat sinks located along a pair of S-foils on its wings. The device was replaced with solar arrays that functioned similar to those of the TIEs. These particular fighters may have been the last of their line ever manufactured Cody figured, as hundreds of Imperial factories had been turned over to TIE production.

Cody motioned for Bly to grab a nearby fusioncutter that rested on a magnetized board for tools and come over to his side of the craft. They worked quickly in the low light and manually removed bolt by bolt. They soon had both S-foils removed from the fighter. Bly released the unpowered fusioncutter which spun away into the darkness. Cody found some utility tape to act as secure straps for the wings.

"Let's go." Cody indicated. Both men made sure that the other's S-foil was firmly strapped to the other's back. Clones on both sides of the hanger watched the strange pair cross the hanger and disappear back into the passageway. They got back to the turbolift shaft and Cody grasped hold of the cables within the compartment. With a powerful tug he was flying upwards past dozens of decks, and he felt like an air-assault trooper with the wing strapped across his back. It was exhilarating. Way too quickly he was back on the Command Deck.

When Bly and Cody stepped back on the bridge, they first were greeted by the sight of Neyo and Bacara fastening a pair of industrial size GNK power droids to the deck near the starboard side viewport. It was the side that had the most exposure to the local system's star.

"We read your mind when you two flew out of here." Neyo smiled at the two new arrivals. "Did you go with Eta-3s or Nimbus S-foils?"

Cody began unstrapping his cargo and moved towards the starboard viewport. "Etas, we never even got to the Nimbus fighters." Cody explained. "Glad you guys found these big Gonks before we returned."

"There's a lot of crew and men waiting for power to be returned below decks." Bly reported. Bacara just nodded. Cody had a momentary thought of what the Clone Admiral still was planning for the Clone Society; now that it was starting to become evident they never made it to the maw. He shrugged his shoulders, and assumed it was a question for another time.

A couple of clones hooked up a mobile energy converter to both Gonks and then ran them back out into the passageway. Cody figured one was going down to life support while the other was being run to the starship's computer core. Bly got his S-foil installed against the viewport first, but Cody wasn't far behind. The Marshals stood back for a minute after all the connections had been made. Wolffe kept checking the power level on his Gonk.

"Cody, come over here will you?" Wolffe signaled. Cody glided over.

"What's up?"

"This Gonk is already at one percent, put your helmet on. Let's plug it in and see what happens." The other three marshals were staring at him to decide what he would do. Always a clone of action he slipped his bucket on and attached one of the droid's power couplings. The green start up light inside his HUD lit up a few seconds later. He motioned with one of his retinas, and fluttered his other eyelid at icons that started to appear on the edges of his field of vision. He flipped down his macrobinoculars and turned towards the forward viewport. He could suddenly make out details on every starship in the fleet, and he could pick out individual asteroids in the field ahead of them. The difference was like night and day.
He reached behind his kama and grabbed his vibroblade. With a flick of his thumb the weapon came to life with an audible hum. The other Marshals clapped with joy. Bacara moved to the other Gonk and plugged himself in as Cody made way for Neyo.

"Go easy, vode, we have to recharge the entire Fool also. Our next step should be finding a source of fuel for our engines." Wolffe standing next to the Admiral warned.

"We'll get some technicians up here to monitor these things." Bacara said.

"It's a better system than the Quill has. At least we don't have to risk one of our pilot's lives a couple of times every day." Bly threw in.

"Let's get some lights and gravity on, vode." Bacara ordered. "It looks like our plan is back in action."

Command Bridge Section, Imperial I- Class Star Destroyer Insertion, Suspected Outer Horuz Sector

"I'm dead." Major Eritech whispered under his breath. He shivered a bit as he noticed the breath that blew out in the frigid air of the command bridge. Gravity was at .4g and Eritech tried to look at ease while his body weighed less than half his normal weight. Every time he tried to cross the bridge for some report or errand he felt as if he was performing some kind of embarrassing Corusca Circus routine. He reached in his pocket for a few more painkillers. He had been taking them ever since waking up this morning floating around the bridge with a splitting headache. They hadn't helped his mood.

If his superiors could only see him now, he thought. They would be ashamed he was not only in his appearance as Bridge Commander Volt, but of his performance as undercover ISB agent Major Eritech as well. Both would probably be found unsatisfactory when word reached Imperial Center.

Behind him a couple of technicians were carting off the remains of the Insertion's nav computer. Hopefully, it hadn't been the only nav computer to fully self-destruct during the hyperspace jump, but he wasn't holding his breath. Communications throughout the fleet were slowly being restored by localized comsets, because no one had yet generated enough power to initialize their ship commo stations. What he had listened for, between the lines in all the reports he had taken, was if other starships had undergone the similar damage aboard their own ships. So far, he hadn't been so lucky. Captain Halser had ordered a new one installed as soon as possible, even though there was no visible method to control the starship's motion at the moment.

Even now, the Insertion's bridge was still only lit at ten percent. It gave Eritech the impression that he was slowly going blind, but he did feel momentarily better every time he tried to lift something heavy in the low gravity. It was the only bright spot in his dismal outlook. He had an entire fleet of traitors in his hands and somehow they had slipped right on through. The mauler virus he had unleashed appeared to have worked properly, but the hope had been for the traitorous fleet to die in deep space or smash into a quasar or an event horizon. It would have been so simple, and that fool Fleet Admiral Yos had even aimed Tarkin's Fist right at a cluster of blackholes. Eritech had even had the notion of the slave rig drawing all the ships in the fleet together in one gigantic cataclysmic fireball, or he would have even settled for them to be torn apart somewhere outside of the galactic arms.

An idea suddenly struck him as he looked through the dozens of reports streaming past on his newly restored datapad. His high rank had netted him one of the first charged devices from a powered Gonk droid that now sat in the middle of the bridge. He opened one message and read its contents. He had read it earlier, but without a working computer core everything was being dumped onto the senior officer's datapads. It seemed someone was asking if anyone could identify the large gas giant to the rear of the fleet's formation. He looked at the report more closely. Evidently the thing had a small ring of icy asteroids that were nearly invisible to the fleet science team's naked eyes, but when someone had finally powered up some macrobinoculars they had noticed the tiny ring. Also the orange planet appeared to have over fifty natural satellites with more being discovered every hour. Eritech had never heard of a planet with those particular dimensions existing anywhere on the galactic disk. Maybe he had succeeded in launching the fleet somewhere that it would never return from. It was a small chance, but the only one he could see his superiors on Imperial Center forgiving.

If Captain Halser didn't figure out his involvement in the slave rig's sabotage right away, Eritech pondered if he might have more chances at destroying Tarkin's Fist. It would be a lot easier if the starship was functioning properly. He wondered the reason why the Insertion had lost so many of its vital components. The Insertion should have automatically pulled itself out of hyperspace when the ultradense hypermatter bunkers reached levels of twenty percent. He quickly did the math in his head and figured that it would have still taken the Imperial I-class Star Destroyer a little over five years in hyperspace to burn through so much hypermatter. He had woken up hungry, but not that hungry. Which raised the question what had knocked him out in the first place? The scuttlebutt onboard had been that the fleet must have been hit by some sort of giant ion cannon, but it didn't explain why the crew had been taken out as well. Or why the enemy beings manning that sort of weapon didn't follow up on their ion attack, with more direct attacks or boarding operations.

Captain Halser had excused himself to oversee operations with the TIE fighter they had dangling underneath the starship, and left command of the bridge to Commander Volt until he returned. Eritech crossed the bridge and approached the command station. He checked once again the ship's systems that were coming online and how he could possibly destroy the Insertion and possibly other ships around her with it. He checked that the weapon ops station was still reporting zero percent tibanna for the blasters, as well as the fact that crews had found that every missile on board had been drained of their fuel. The explosives were still there, but the missiles and torpedoes sat impotent in their racks. He may be able to get down there later and detonate one of the destructive devices, but he knew the devices were usually under the armed guard of the Imperial Marines. He had also heard that their blasters were empty as well, but he knew what damage they could still do him with unpowered vibroblades and fists if he entered an unauthorized area, no matter his rank.

He had a better chance of causing an overload in one of the reactors, but it had been reported that those too had been found bone dry. He would have to wait and see if they ever found fuel again before he could put a plan like that into action. It would be much easier to bluff his way past a couple of engineering crewmen rather than Imperial stormtroopers as well. He was starting to realize that more and more he would have to wait before he could implement his destructive plan.

Until then, he would continue to gather more evidence of the high treason that was being committed around him. On his datapad he had procured a set of written orders from the Grand Moff himself for the Insertion along with the rest of Admiral Yos's Subterrel fleet to report to the Horuz System. It wasn't completely damning, but Eritech was sure it was just the tip of the iceberg of what he would eventually dig up on this fleet of rebels. When he thought of it, his impatience with the crewmen in the computer core grew exponentially. There was a tremendous amount of data for him to still sift thru when the core finally came online again. If they were in the Core Worlds they would have the computer core up and running again or ISB would know why. He convinced himself that the delay was only part of a larger plot to destroy evidence before it reached the Emperor's eyes and ears.

He checked the warship's systems once again. The Insertion's dual drive engines showed that they were in perfect working order; it was just that they were empty of fuel. If they didn't get any in the next month the gas giant behind them was going to start dragging off ships for dinner. Since Moff Culter's squadron was mainly bringing up the rear Eritech figured that was more his problem than Yos's. Culter was probably trying to figure out how to terraform the monster world. As far as Eritech could remember he had never heard of anyone even living on the surface of a planet that large, yet alone trying to terraform one. If their anti-grav drives weren't pulling them away from its gravity well in the next standard month he figured the argument would be pointless anyways. Deflector shields were out and Eritech had noticed the strikes of several micro meteors throughout the fleet. So far there had been no reports of decompression aboard any vessel, but there was no telling how long that would last in this debris filled system. Life support was starting to come on stronger, while the MedBay was reporting functionality. Energy had also been diverted to the hanger doors and the Bridge Commander had heard that they were no longer manually operating the doors or the wench down there. Sometime tomorrow or the next day he suspected they would have the hanger shields up again. Tractor beams were still out, but the Fleet Admiral had expressed a desire for more ships to power them up as a means of keeping the fleet together, especially after more and more explosive decompressions of hangers were moving starships out of position. Eritech wondered who would be the first to power up a proton torpedo.

Glow lamps however, would be kept at these low levels until more vital systems came online, and Eritech hoped that would also include the turbolifts as he found it beneath him to keep running up and down service stairs between the decks.
He casually formed a dozen plans to deal with these venomous traitors and most of them either ended with him being greeted as a hero on Imperial Center, or ending up having a statue dedicated to himself on the capital's Valley of Heroes. It was his destiny he determined.

He moved once again to the bridge's viewport and glared out across the Assault Line towards the flagship of the fleet. The Quill sat like a giant lump two starships ahead of the Insertion and Eritech's gaze dripped venom as he tried to figure out Fleet Admiral Yos's next move. No, the destruction of just the Insertion wouldn't be enough he assured himself. He would have to take out the Quill as the headquarters of the greatest traitors in the fleet. How he wished the sublight engines were online and he could ram the Insertion straight down Yos's lying throat. In time he told himself, vengeance would reward his patience.

An indicator light flashed on his datapad and tore him away from his thoughts of justice and retribution. A dozen stations in the crew pit of the bridge suddenly came to life as Eritech walked back across to the command station. A HoloVid of the maw slowly blinked in and out of life on the bridge's map reader.

"Computer Core is coming online, sir." The deck officer announced.

'Inform Captain Halser." Eritech ordered and turned his attention to the data stream flowing over his station's monitors. He brushed a crewman aside who offered to help. As fast as he could he swiped all the few nav computer memory bits he could find. Within minutes there wasn't any evidence the Insertion had even been connected to the rest of Tarkin's Fist or that the starship had ever been connected to a slave rig. Eritech didn't dare to copy the evidence to his datapad for later study on the off chance that someone else got a hold of it. He wished he had another mauler virus, but had to settle for a few other ISB devices to cover his electronic tracks. One program wiped his own user history away, while another wiped any trace of his presence in the core completely away.

He pushed a few buttons on his console and secretly powered up an individual weapon in the warship's ready racks that required no fuel and ordered a droid who would be powered up in the next few days to hide the weapon somewhere only he could find and activate it. Then he wiped any data that suggested the weapon had ever been in the starship's inventory. Now he had a means of protection and vengeance.
For now he would retreat into the personality of Bridge Commander Volt, but Major Eritech would wait for his chance to strike.

In this new system anything was possible. He would uncover Yos and Tarkin's grand plan and unravel it to ISB's benefit. It would be hard, one thing that ISB hadn't taught him was the virtue of patience, but he would wait. In the end the Empire would strike back.
-------------------------------------------
Between thruster B and C, Aft section, Empress, Acclamator II-class SD, unknown space

The mynock slowly stirred itself awake. It had been a few days since the moving rock with the tasty innards had given off any energy sustenance to feed on. The silicon-based mynock wrapped itself tighter within its wings to protect what little heat its body gave off. In a crevice a few feet away it noticed the cold eyes of one of its pack. Through movements and gestures they both asked each other the same question. Food wasn't present here.

The mynock sprayed a cloud of pheromones and leapt from its perch. The other creature read the stench through the vacuum and followed. They both landed midway down the underside of the large metallic rock. They stared for a few moments at a smaller rock that was full of energy and seemed to be attached to the larger asteroid by a silvery vine. They lost interest quickly. They wanted bigger game.

With a flash of their leathery wings they took off and flew the length of the giant rock, which until recently had provided them with an abundance of food. They knew it was time to move on. As they flew, throughout the ordered gathering of similar shaped asteroids, hundreds of their brethren flew from every rock to join them. The musky smell of their pheromones in the vacuum would have been overpowering to most species.

They flew above the gathering rocks and followed that first mynock as it led the way to tastier feeding grounds. Ahead lay a huge asteroid field, full of tender juicy rocks. They could not even sense the presence of their natural predator, the space slug. Yes, even though it would take them weeks to reach the untapped field, the mynocks were going to feast well.
Alpha Hanger, Imperial II-class SD Quill, unknown gas giant's orbit

"It looks like the mynocks are abandoning ship." Commander Charge observed from Yos's side. The two officers were standing side by side watching the preparations of a nearby TIE boarding craft when the engineering commander spotted the pests while peering out the nearby hanger shield.

Admiral Yos turned and watched as a pair of the energy-draining little monsters glided past the open hanger bay. "Good riddance, maybe they'll find a better meal out in the nearby asteroid field." His gaze fell across the shield that protected the hanger from open space. As far as he had heard, the Quill was the only starship in the Fleet to get their docking shields up and running. The energy shield was designed to keep matter in three different forms from escaping or entering the hanger. After gas, liquid, and plasma were kept inside only solid matter could pass in and out of the hanger. The problem was, enemy fleets knew this too, and would from time to time blast a very solid slug, or launch a boarding party right at another vessel's hanger. Usually a series of armored doors would protect an unused hanger in combat, but the Quill sported a pair of quad-turbo lasers on both sides of the opening to deal with any uninvited guests.

With the shield online it allowed crewmen and hanger technicians to work uninterrupted in their efforts to repower the crippled Star Destroyer. The latest plan involved the craft in front of them. A TIE/bc or the Boarding Barge as pilots in the Fleet called it. It was a variant of the TIE/sa bombers they had on board, except instead of a bombing rack capsule, these craft carried a crew compartment armed with powerful grappling and cutting devices. It was also one of the few TIE craft to ever be made with landing gear which was the reason it sat on the deck in front of the two officers instead of being suspended from one of the racks overhead.

Commander Charge had come up with this recent plan and was overseeing the final details. As every starship and fighter craft in the fleet was completely starved for fuel, Commander Charge had remembered one unique feature of the twin ion engines of the TIE series. They practically ran on anything. Charge had put out requisitioning crewman on every deck looking for any type of liquid that burned, and they had found some in the ship's galleys. Cooking grease by the barrel had been brought down to the Flight Deck, and even though it would totally destroy the TIE's fuel filtration system as well as strip the engine completely after a few hours of flight time, the senior engineer had sold the Fleet Admiral on the possibilities and benefits of his idea. Already the TIE/bc was one of two craft that had been fully powered up. The other was the banged up TIE/in starfighter they kept dangling under the Quill for energy like bait on a hook. Just one more engine that would need to be replaced when there was time.

After witnessing the success of his ten-year old daughter's idea, Yos felt he really couldn't refuse any more crazy ideas in regards to getting his fleet operational again.

The flight deck started to vibrate as he watched the final preparations of the craft. He turned to see three man-shaped armored tanks strolling towards him. Even at half normal gravity the Zero-G assault troopers still weighed enough to rattle his fillings as they passed by. They stopped at the ramp to the craft and a dozen crewmen came over to help each individual trooper onto the craft. Usually the TIE/bc carried twelve stormtroopers, but on this flight it would only have room for the three SpaceTroopers and their equipment.

The TIE's pilot came over while the trio was being slowly loaded. If not for the urgency of their mission it would have been quite comical to see the hugely overly-armor suited troopers try to get up and into the tiny opening of the TIE/bc's crew compartment. Yos turned towards the approaching black-clad pilot.

"We're ready whenever we get those SpaceTroopers on board, sir." The pilot saluted. He was clad in the slick-looking black uniform of the TIE Corps, and for a brief moment Yos remembered his youthful dream of becoming a top ace in the fighter serviceof the Old Republic's Navy.

"Once they're onboard will you ever be able to get them off again, Major Vertitas?" Yos asked half jokingly.
"It's a tight fit inside of there, Admiral, but I've seen them do it before. We should be fine out there."

"Are there any questions of the mission, Major?" Commander Charge asked.

"Just how big a piece do you want us to bring back?" The pilot's voice sounded mechanical coming from his flight helmet's external speakers.

"I'm looking for an asteroid about three times your own craft's size. The mass of a rock that size should be enough to generate power for one of the fleet's CT-11 spacetugs. That is if we're lucky. After that we should be able to fire up the Fleet's refinery ship in Moff Culter's squadron, especially if we can get those tugs out into the nearby asteroid belt."
"Am I right to assume we're not heading out into the belt ourselves, Commander?" Vertitas asked.

Yos answered for the engineer. "Not yet, we haven't got a single starship's sensors up yet, but we do have a couple working handheld rangefinders for the troops. We've been using them to triangulate the distance between us and any possible source of nearby ore. The asteroid belt is much too far for your TIE. You'd run out of power and freeze to death well before you even made it halfway there. We want you to head for one of the nearby asteroids in the planetary ring of that gas giant behind us. Moff Culter's science teams in the rear ships have already identified several likely candidates for retrieval. Since they're the closest ones to the things, they would know best. The information has already been uploaded to your flight computer."

"Roger that, sir. It looks like they're almost done loading up the SpaceTroopers. I should be getting back to my TIE." Vertitas observed.

"There is one more thing, Major." Yos stopped the man.

"Sir?"

"As you may have heard Commander Briyan passed away from a heart attack when we emerged from the jump. Lieutenant Commander Typus is being moved up to the position of Flight Operations Commander. As such I have need of a new wing commander for the 665th Starfighter Wing onboard the Quill here. I was hoping you would be inclined to take that position."
"I'd be honored, sir." Vertitas tried to hide the smile that was trying to escape his face, and decided that having his helmet on gave him the best chance to do so.

"Put that Captain Roblins in charge of your old squadron. You know, the pilot that just received the Medal of Valor." Yos suggested.

"Yes, sir." Vertitas saluted again and turned and ran to the TIE. Yos could have been mistaken, but he was sure he heard a bit of iciness in the Major's last statement.

The flight deck crewmen were making last minute checks to the TIE/bc, while the rest of the crewmen in the hanger evacuated the compartment. The shield wasn't at full power yet and it was a new fleet protocol for all personal to vacate the hanger while flight operations were taking place under these conditions. Major Vertitas gave the Admiral the ready gesture through the viewport of his cockpit.

'We should make our way to flight control, Admiral." Commander Charge suggested from his side.

"Yes, of course. Did I hear correctly that they have a working caf maker up there?" Both men turned and walked towards the hanger's airlock. Behind them a few crew members stowed equipment and ran for their own exits. In a few weeks Yos thought he would have to get some droids powered up again for those functions. He must spare as much of the Fleet's crew as he possibly could, for duty when the Grand Moff called for them.

They used the service stairs to reach the Flight Control station that overlooked the hangers, and approached the viewport to watch the launch. It was a minute later before the last crewman left the hanger and the airlock signaled that it had been secured. The small whine of the twin ion engines of the craft below started to reach the hanger overlook station.
"Still positive this grease trap fuel will work, Commander?" Yos slyly asked Charge.

"No, it won't work, sir. In fact, it will probably destroy that TIE's engines, but we have plenty of those to spare throughout the Fleet. I remembered the lessons I had learned about gas turbine engines at the Imperial Engineering College on Imperial Center. They were primitive things, but I am positive that it will get this one job done, Admiral." Charge broke into a grin as the large TIE/bc lifted off of the deck and retracted its landing supports.

It was silence in the station as all eyes were on Vertitas and his TIE. "All systems check out and operating at one hundred percent." Vertitas's voice cut over the FlightOps channel. The veteran pilot slowly spun the craft around until it faced the gaping opening before it. Vertitas could be seen in the cockpit slowly pushing the stick forward and the craft lurched across the flight deck with a loudening roar. Everyone took in a shallow breath as the starship breached the shield and entered the vacuum of the void. With a quick banking motion the craft disappeared as it headed towards its destination.
A buzz from below signaled the reopening of the airlock as the flight deck crew went back to work repairing damage the hanger had received in zero-g. The entire time the shield had held and the sailors below didn't seem to be suffering any ill effects of vacuum as far as the Admiral observed.

"Flight Control." He barked.

"Yes, sir?" an officer nearby answered.

"Keep me posted on Major Vertitas mission." The junior officer looked as if he was about to object. "Yes, I know you can't track him with ship sensors and subspace radar being down, but if you hear anything let me know immediately. Understood?" The officer acknowledged with a nod. "Commander Charge, let us move this to the Command Bridge shall we?" He moved over to the side of the room and grabbed two cups. A movement later he was filling them with the sweet taste of the first cup of caf he had a chance to down since emerging from hyperspace. He handed the other one to his engineering officer.

"As you were, Gentlemen." Yos commanded as they left the control room. Yos and Charge turned down the hallway and made their way to the service stairwells. It would still be a while before the warship had enough power to supply to the turbolifts, and the Admiral figured that all the exercise was probably doing the crew a bit of good. Twenty flights later he was glad the ship was only at half a g of gravity as he was starting to feel his own age, and thankful for the energy the hot caf had provided him.

"Let me ask you something, Commander." Yos asked as they made their way upwards through the starship.

"Yes, Admiral?"

"If you had to guess, and this is just between you and me, how long do you think we were in hyperspace."

"I have been thinking about that myself, Admiral," Yos noticed how the other officer's voice dropped in volume. "My biggest clue to that enigma would have to be the fuel levels. The cargo ships in this Fleet would have run out of their fuel after a year in hyperspace, but the Star Destroyers, especially the Quill, could have lasted almost six standard years before they started cannibalizing all the other ship's systems for fuel."

"Is that what you think happened?" They kept walking, but slowly as each man considered the possibilities.

"Not with the tibanna. That's not even connected with the ship's reactors, but the raw material bunkers and the TIE rack's power converters are connected. It's something I've never heard of happening before. There is also the matter that we were all seemingly unconscious during all of it. I don't know about you Admiral, but I would have long ago starved to death if I had been out that long."

"I received a classified report from one of our doctors in the MedBay. It stated that he had seen some signs of suspended animation illness, or hibernation sickness, in some of the injuries he had seen since we emerged. Please do not repeat that to anyone, Commander."

"I won't, sir, but that is quite disturbing. We could have been out for millennia before we got caught in that gas giant's gravity well and it snapped us all out of it. That could have explained the loss of power in personal devices as well as the tibanna gas. It simply decayed and evaporated over the centuries. I wonder what has happened to the Empire." The Commander pondered.

"I hope Tarkin did alright, his Death Star probably rules the Galaxy by now." Yos knew the old warhorse Tarkin wouldn't bend his knee to the Emperor forever, especially not after he had the Death Star at his disposal.
"I just can't believe it, sir. In that amount of time we should have lost more than a few starships to collisions with space debris, and yet they are all here. We shall have to wait and see what the computer core tells us when it starts coming on line."

"Yes, a game of wait and see." The Admiral mused as they stepped onto the bridge of the Quill. "Not my favorite past time."
-------------------------------------------------------
6,000 kilometers, aft of Acclamator II-class SD Chariot, Anoat Squadron Assault Line
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"ZG-2934, pass me another piton will you." One of the SpaceTrooper's voices cut across the commo.
Major Vertitas watched the operation slowly taking place in front of his TIE/bc. The three troopers moved gingerly across the face of the rock ahead of his craft looking for secure footing to place more tow lines that ran back to the TIE. Even though each man was fastened with a safety line that ran back to the craft, as well as another that secured each of the troopers to the asteroid, the men moved slowly and with great care.
On the way over they had told him of the danger of rupturing a gas pocket and being blown off into space, before having the chance to react. The pilot had assured them that he would be able to rescue them before they got too far. Vertitas hoped he wasn't lying.

The zero-G assault troopers barely used their thrusters as they muscled lengths of durasteel cables over the rock like a giant spider web. In its own strange way, it was a thing of beauty.

Vertitas had turned the TIE's engines off, once they had established their position high in orbit above the orange world below them. The gas giant silhouetted the SpaceTrooper's operation in its soothing glow.

"Almost done, Sir." One of the troopers reported. "ZG-6493 is heading back to the TIE now."

"Copy that." He responded. He started powering up the engines again, as the only reason he had them off was because he didn't want that junk fuel ruining them. Twenty minutes later the last of the troopers was back onboard.
"Let's hope those cables don't rip that rock apart when we start our tow, sir." A trooper worried from the crew compartment next to his.

"Don't worry, Trooper. It was a wizard job you boys did out there. I think we'll be fine. Besides there are a couple of other rocks on the neighborhood if this one crumbles apart on us." He pushed the throttle ahead and heard the whoop of success come from the men as they watched the asteroid slowly follow in their wake.

"Looks like we're back in business, boys"
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Flight Hanger, Kuati Fleet SD Kuat's Might, Kuati Squadron Assault Line, unknown space
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"I hope you enjoy your gift, my Kuat of Kuat." Niobe announced as she did the sort of bow one would find back in the executive offices of KDY. Kuantus had so grown accustomed to them not being part of his life anymore that he was
actually a little taken aback at his aide's gesture.

"Thank you, my Dear." The former Kuat of Kuat stood in the middle of the Kuat's Might's hanger and watched though the docking shield as the magnificent solar sails retracted themselves. They were the color of the sand, but they way they responded in the vacuum of space reminded him of the liquidity of water. The sails gracefully pulled themselves back within the craft's hull. The ship was simply a thing of beauty as it glided through the shield and came to a rest within the huge expanse of the Kuati hanger.

Years ago KDY had acquired two of the craft from the remains of the Geonosian shipwrights. They had sat in an orbital warehouse for years before Kuantus had rediscovered them and sought to use them on board the nearby Kuat's Storm for propulsion and engine testing. They had been sought as a way to decrease engine signatures from enemy sensors, but the project hadn't yet got off of the ground before Kuat had been contacted by Tarkin. After that the solar sailers had been hidden away for tests to be run on them when they reached the maw.

Now only one of them remained in pieces somewhere inside the other Kuati destroyer, while the one before them had been
requisitioned for the Moff's personal use. The pilot jumped down after securing the craft and performed the Kuati salute for her Kuat of Kuat. Kuantus ignored her and continued to study the lines of his new personal transport.

"You know they never have discovered the unidentified form of energy that pulls these crafts through space." He remarked. "It has something to do with some unknown form of tractor beam technology that either pushed or pulled the craft through the void towards its destination. If We recall correctly the sailer was equipped with over eighty of the tiny tractor beam emitters."

"That's right, sir." The pilot responded. "However she flies, she handles like a dream." The pilot sounded as if she was in love.

"I can't wait to see the look on Fleet Admiral Yos's face when you report to him in person, your Lordship." Niobe stated behind him.

"Yes, that will prove interesting, especially since he wants to continue with these weekly meetings of his. Are you sure all of the Fleet's tranports are down?"

"Yes, Kuat of Kuat. You should be the only Moff present as Moff's Seco and Culter can only report by subspace transmitters, or if they get their HoloVids working in time." Niobe reported. "The Fleet is still only using local commo channels as deep space communications was strictly forbidden according to Grand Moff Tarkin's strict orders. I suppose those holovids and the HoloNet will be some of the last systems restored."

"We can't believe Admiral Yos is still following Tarkin's foolish guidelines. It should be obvious to everyone in the Fleet, that we never made it to the maw. We should be restoring power to the Fleet's sensors so that we can find the nearest hyperspace beacon or HoloNet satellite and find out where in the Galaxy we are. Perhaps Yos can even salvage something of his career if he still gets us into the maw at the very least."

"He may be playing it safe, as he has a lot more to lose if the Emperor finds us out here." Niobe assured him.

"That may be, when We find out what Yos's game plan is, We shall endeavor to become the Fleet Admiral's most trusted ally."

"That is the course I also recommend. I would also suggest playing the other Moffs off of the Admiral as well, especially Seco." Niobe suggested.

Kuat was lost in his own reflection on the solar sailer's hull for a second. "Yes, that would be wise. Any technological edge in weaponry or defensive systems we discover should be installed onboard Yos's starships first. Especially the Quill, it no secret that I had a personal touch in her designs while she was at KDY."

"I had noticed." Niobe had been with Kuat long enough to have known most every starship and project he had been involved in.

"Have you a clue as to which system or at least the sector we're in yet, Niobe? That information in itself could be welded as a weapon." Kuantus asked.

"Not yet, your Lordship. We have several scientific teams aboard the Kuat's Dragon that specializes in astronomy. None of their electrotelescopes are powered up, but that hasn't stopped them from observing our new locale."

"Yes, I know them well. They are the finest astronomers and deep space explorers from the Queen Reva University in the Duros System. We should learn quite a bit from them." Kuat ducked down and slid under the craft. The pilot glanced at Niobe with a concerned frown. Niobe just motioned for her not to worry. "What have they found out so far?"
"Most of their starcharts haven't been powered up yet, but they most assuredly don't recognize the system. They've spotted at least three more gas giants further out from the system core, as well as dozens of moons. The opportunity for gas and mineral mining in this system must be off the charts. When I last spoke to them they were trying to determine the presence of small planetoids within the asteroid belt."

"That is interesting," Kuat slid out from under the craft. It had revealed a wealth of scientific answers when he had looked underneath its engine cowling. If only he had more time to fully take the whole thing apart and see how it functioned. He could have a fleet of them within the year, but the duties of a Kuat tugged at his sleeves from every corner. "It doesn't sound like any system I've ever heard of, and KDY and Rothana products have served in every part of the known Galaxy."

"My Lordship, Kuat of Kuat!" Gage yelled across the immense hanger to attract Kuat's attention.

"Over here, Gage." His male Kuati aide hurried over to his master. When he stopped he was having trouble catching his breath again. "What is it, son, you look winded. I recommend more time in the gym once Admiral Hadrian powers it up again." The aide nodded that he would look into it.

"Kuat of Kuat, the ship's computer core is fully functioning again." Gage wheezed out between gasps.

"Excellent, let's make our way back to Our offices so that We may check on the progress of Our researchers." He motioned for the pilot to finish securing the craft, and a few flight deck crew came over to help her push it into its new docking position as the Kuati Moff and his entourage left the hanger. They moved to a private turbolift that had been the only one returned to service for the Kuat of Kuat's personal use. Gage used the opportunity to catch his breath. They soon reached the executive suite of offices onboard the Kuat's Might and his two aides took to their own desks. Everyone in the room scrolled through dozens of reports at once.

"The Aethersprite project is ready to restart their research into the next generation of TransGalMeg Industries starfighters." Gage reported.

"That's good, but who's going to fly them with the Jedi all gone?" Kuat responded back. He was currently reading the results of the botany study that was being conducted by the Ithorians, evidently the loss of power had tainted the research and they were preparing to start over from the beginning.

"The new weapon's packages are done with the testing stage and are ready to be installed on the fleet's AT-ATs as soon as someone finds some tibanna for them." Niobe reported. Kuat grunted as he scanned a report from the Discovery's security personal. The bodies from Dr Selenax Falken's Gravitic Polarization Beam project had been disposed of and the remains of the project had been placed in deep storage. Kuat classified the report and the experiment's data as above top secret as well. He closed and erased the message from his datapad's hard drive.

"I have reports of over a thousand different experiments being performed, with ten times that many waiting for full restoration of the power grid, your Lordship." Gage announced. "The Sorosuub, Trilon Inc, Incom, FreiTek Inc, Slayn & Korpil and Koensayr shipwrights are all reporting prototype designs of their new starfighters. I expect some spirited contests in our near future. Also all the men you pulled from Rothana, SFS, and KDY are reporting to the drawing boards as we speak."

Kuat tried to put the reports of lost research behind him, and turned to his two aides. "This is indeed good news. It appears Admiral Yos's small delay hasn't hindered us too badly. Contact Admiral Hadrian and inform him to continue to work on restoring fleet capabilities, but the priority should be on restoring the research vessels around us first."
"He already has Kuati marines in Zero-G enviro-suits running power cables over to the research ships. He has also requested the use of your new craft in the hanger to run more power cables to the more distant starships." Gage informed his leader.

"That is fine, just make sure he knows not to scratch the paint job, and also that I need it to report to the Admiral in a few days."

"Yes, Kuat of Kuat." His aides both echoed.

"We need to keep our progress going as fast as we can. If We are still in Impirial Space We are going to need these advances to defend Us, and if We're somewhere else We need them to find our way back and into the maw. Either way We are probably going to have to have the good Fleet Admiral on our side." His aides agreed, but Kuat knew that no matter where the Sabacc cards fell, Kuat would always come out on top.

"My Lordship, Communications is reporting an odd commo signal from somewhere within the fleet's operation area." Niobe reported.

"What's that again?"
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Low Elliptical Orbit, Unknown Gas Giant, Unknown Space
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The probe had been there for three years before the arrival of the fleet. It didn't pay them any attention now that they were also in the neighborhood.

A large microwave emitter on the probe silently sent signals towards the planet beneath it. Each signal, as well as others that operated in the infrared spectra, collected data on thermal radiation coming from deep within the gas giant's dense atmosphere. Over thirty other systems from an Ion and Neutral Mass Spectrometers to Plasma Wave Science Instruments measured every bit of data they could collect about the planet.

Long solar panels radiated in four different directions from its central body, gathering distant sunlight to power its multitude of systems. Other instruments were busy gathering data on the planet's polar magnetosphere and gravitational fields. A small plutonium reactor helped run the probe's day to day operations.

The probe itself had cost its creators well over three hundred and fifty million credits to design and deliver it to its current location. They had launched the device almost six standard years ago from their home world. A seventy meter retractable UHF antenna jutted away from the machine as well. In a manner to conserve energy the CPU of the probe bundled all the data it collected in a period and transmitted it back to its home every six hours. This signal was intercepted by hundreds of receivers across Tarkin's Fist well before it reached its intended destination.

Officer's Mess, Acclamator II-class SD Fool, suspected wild space

"Would you still do it all over?" Cody asked.

"Yeah, well we might have given her more of a fighting chance, like Bacara had." Bly explained as he shoveled more of his Rylothian rycrit steak into his gullet. "I heard he lost a couple of marines executing Order 66. Why? What would you have done differently?"

"I think I would have waited until Kenobi had come back into small arms range and then taken him out. That artillery strike was a mistake." Cody glanced at the Jedi weapon his friend wore on his belt for the thousandth time.

"They always were. Whenever we smashed up a position on Felucia with arty, we'd press our attack just to find the Seppers had just dug themselves deeper and were waiting in ambush. We lost a lot of good vode playing that stoopa game."

"Well hopefully we won't have to lose too many more before the big die off in a few years." Cody hoped soberly.

"Yeah, I figure this system must be pretty empty if we haven't been attacked by anyone yet. Are you going to have another steak?"

"Oh, yeah, in just a minute. I'm still waiting for my first one to settle." Cody leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. The starship's cold storage freezers hadn't been deemed essential systems, and so the cooks were trying to get rid of all the frozen food they could before it spoiled. As a result every clone onboard was eating steaks and seafood like they were the Emperor himself for the past few days. Cody hadn't heard any complaints about the situation either, even though he knew that after the next week was through, it would be a long time before he saw another steak.
"I'm going to grab another. I'll snag you one while I'm up, vod." Bly strolled back to the end of the line of clone officers waiting in the cafeteria's line. Cody settled back in his chair. Bly and him weren't due to relieve Neyo on the command bridge for another hour, at which time he was sure the old BARC trooper would rush down to the mess for his own share of rycrit.

The mess was shared with several officer's wives and younglings of several species. Twileks especially seemed to gravitate towards the clones, and some of them had brought extended family along with them on this journey. They had found jobs working in the starship's laundry, MedBays, pharmacy, and kitchens as well as another dozen stations not manned by clones on the Fool. Cody liked the situation as it led to quite a few opportunities for the bachelor. He grinned when he noticed Bly talking up a friendly Zeltron girl working the service line. Evidently the girl's buir had married a pilot down in one of Oddball's squadrons, and she had come along when her mother ran off with the lucky clone.

The strangest thing was how much all of the aliit dependants embraced the clone's culture themselves. Every fifth word out of their mouths was a scrap of Mando'a that they had picked up from their clone somewhere along the line. It was another reason to keep any Imperial Security Bureau and their High Human Culture off of the clone's starships.
Bacara had reassured them that the squadron had been cleansed of that particular scourge, but Cody chose to keep his guard up none-the-less. Bacara had seemed to be in high spirits as well. Well, as good a mood as Old Grumpy was apt to show. He had told each of his Clone Marshals aboard the Fool that he was positive that they had found their haven. He explained that he had been in contact with Moff Culter onboard the Trapped and the Moff had assured the Clone Admiral that he would be terraforming several planetoids within the nearby asteroid belt, and his troopers would be welcome to their pick whenever they were complete. The Moff had also expressed a suspicion of the presence of more planets within the system's deeper core and well within the livable biosphere range from the local star. Nobody else had picked up on that so Cody didn't know what to make of it.

Bly returned and flopped another steak down onto Cody's plate. "I got me a date after the next shift." Bly proudly proclaimed.

Cody reached for the nearby steak sauce and drowned the meat in half of the bottle's contents. "Kandosii. I was just thinking, have you heard any word on when we're going to be able to launch a shuttle of our own?"

"All I've heard is what's in the duty reports. The Quill was able to get a TIE/bc out to the rings of that planet we're in orbit around and retrieve two large asteroids and bring them back. Then the thing's engines gave out due to that adenn crud they had filled her up with. Supposedly they're trying to process the ore into some kind of useable fuel, but there's no way they collected enough to budge a Star Destroyer."

"That's what I've heard also, but the Fleet Admiral's got to have some idea what he plans to do with all of that rock he was able to grab."

"That crew on that TIE was lucky their engines didn't give out while they were out there too. From what I heard they were just about to launch for a third retrieval when the engines just started smoking and then gave up the ghost." Bly always had an ear for scuttlebutt. "It filled their entire hanger with fumes from what I understood. They had to drop the hanger shield to defenestrate it all out." Cody laughed at the mongrels luck.

"That ore is probably the most precious thing in the Fleet right about now." Cody wondered.

"They better not kriffing waste it then." They both carried on the conversations through bites of their meal. One thing they hadn't been taught on Kamino was table manners, but the starship's dependents were slowly bringing the clones around on that issue.

A half hour later, with their bellies full to the brink, the two brothers made their way back to the command bridge. They lost half a step from their huge meals, but still chose to jog up the access stairs to the command bridge. When they arrived Clone Marshal Neyo strolled over to give them the duty report.

"Not a lot happening out there right now. Several more starships are bringing their communications online so it's getting to be a little noisier in the neighborhood." Neyo reported. "A few ships are starting to use more encrypted commo too, so get ready for that to come down the regulations pipeline here shortly. The Quill's was in contact with the Trapped about an hour ago. Scuttlebutt is Admiral Yos asked Culter to release one of his CT-11 Space Tugs for the Admiral's use."
"That must be what they're planning on doing with that ore they retrieved." Bly interjected.

"Your guess is as good as mine." Neyo continued. "We're starting to pick up more of the situation on those prison and cargo ships packed with Imperial slaves."

"How have they been doing that?" Cody asked.

"There's more and more SpaceTroopers moving between the ships with power cables. It's highly dangerous work, but it's saving lives. Some of those crews have been found on the edge of freezing."
"Have you heard anything about the prisoners?" Bly inquired.

"Yes, about six hours ago, we got an update from Fleet. It seems that there was an outbreak of violence on almost every transport they've come across. It's been hard on the guards without blasters or power for their non-lethal weaponry." Neyo explained.

Cody let out a slow whistle. "So it was probably a lot of tooth and nail stuff in pitch blackness. Not my kind of fight." His fellow Clone Marshals nodded in agreement.

"Wish there was more that we could do, but without shuttles working, the guards are having to make due. The
SpaceTroopers and the delivery of power have helped quite a bit, but every fifteen minutes or so there's another call for assistance from one transport or another. One ship in Seco's squadron, called the Abandoned Hope is yapping away about being controlled by the Black Sun."

"Somebody's going to have to go in there and smash some heads in." Bly said.

"Other than that, there's not a whole lot going on. Just the normal restoration of the ship's power levels, but the bridge crew is on top of that. Did you two leave me any rycrit?" Neyo asked hopefully.

"I'm sure there are still a few steaks for you to scrounge up down there." Cody reassured him. The two men saluted and Neyo excused himself from the bridge.

"Kaysh guur' skraan." Cody laughed as Neyo certainly loved his food.

Bly and Cody made a quick inspection of the bridge to make sure everything was in order. Every station was manned by a blue-uniformed naval clone, and except for a few missing HoloVids everything seemed to be running smoothly. They both met again at the viewport and watched the strange sight of hundreds of starships drifting in formation without a single thruster being lit on any of them.

After a few hours of patrolling the bridge and assessing the condition of the Fleet Cody had become lost in his thoughts once again. Before he had gone too far he was interrupted by another clone from the commo station.

"Sir, we're picking up a transmission from within the Fleet's operational area." The man reported. Cody strolled over to the man's station, while Bly just gave him a bored look and shrugged his shoulders.

"Which starship?" Cody asked.

"That's just it, sir. It's a very weak signal. At first I thought it was a broken comlink or a weakened comset onboard one of our ships, but the signal was even too weak to be that. Also it was on a frequency that should be too low for the subspace radios."

"It doesn't seem to be emanating from any of the starships in the fleet, sir," another commo technician reported. "It seems to be broadcasting from a position two hundred and thirty seven kilometers 135 degrees high of our position."

"Put up whatever it's signaling on audio." Cody ordered. The man in front of him flipped a switch and garbled noise filled the command bridge.

"That's binary code." Bly said from across the room. He stood up from where he was resting and made his way to the commo station. "It's too bad we haven't powered up a protocol droid yet. It could figure it out. They use them down in the ship's stores to talk to the loadlifters."

"Can you translate any of that, Chief?" Cody asked the commo technician.

"Yes, sir, just have to run it through the Fool's computer core first. We should have a readable version in aurebesh in a few seconds." Actually it happened faster than the man was able to explain. Across the monitors of the bridge was a stream of scientific data on the gas giant's dimensions.

"What is it?" Bly asked.

"E chu ta. A stang probe droid of some sort. Someone sent it out here to check out that planet." Cody figured.

"Mining Guild perhaps?"

"Maybe, we won't know for sure until someone goes out there and takes a look it." Cody mused what to do next. "Vod I need you to go tell Bacara the news, and make sure you don't use any gayi'kaab. I believe he's in his quarters." Bly just nodded and left the bridge at a run. If the Mining Guild found out where they were the Empire wouldn't be far behind, and the Fleet was in no position to defend itself yet.

"Chief," Cody addressed the clonetrooper at the communications station. "I need to send an encrypted message to the

Fleet Admiral onboard the Quill. He's going to want to hear about this."
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Eagle Base, Unknown Moon, Suspected Outer Rim Territories

"Are you picking up anything yet?" The Colonel asked. Inside the bunker dug forty feet beneath the alien moon's surface the temperature was kept at a steady eighty degrees due to the base's greenhouses located just above it. The Colonel had already worked up quite a sweat working out his base's problems this morning.

"It's still pretty sporadic, Colonel. I've been trying to bounce a signal off of every communications bird I can find, but we're still having trouble getting a message through." A young female lieutenant reported from her place in front of the station's high tech radio equipment.

"Are we still sure it's some kind of interference or jamming?" His executive officer asked from across the room.
"We already ruled out the ChiComm base on the other side of the moon." The lieutenant reported, "From what we can tell, they're having the same issues as us."

"Maybe it's somebody from home, some crazies with a high grade transmitter or the EU trying to piss us off again." The XO suggested.

"Could be. Ask Jenkins to come down here. I want to know if we're experiencing any solar activity." The XO left the room to retrieve the astronomer.

"He's just going to report that the skies are clear again, like he had done every hour since this shit started happening." The communications expert stated.

"Damn it, Lieutenant, somebody is screwing with my base, and I want to know who it is. Now if Jenkins can't tell me what's causing this, then I'm going to need you to come up with some answers for what's washing out our comm?"
"Yes, sir. It's a little on and off, sort of like it's not a continuous signal." The lieutenant turned and stared at the screen in front of her and tried to figure out what was silencing her radio. Whatever the disrupting signal was, it sure was a hell of a powerful one.
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Assault Hanger, Imperial I-class SD Insertion, unknown space

"This concoction smells most foul, sir." Bridge Commander Volt complained to Captain Halser. "Are you sure this stuff will work?"

"I know it's pretty disgusting, but the Quill was able to get two short hops out of a TIE/bc with it. I'm hoping we can beat
that with our Gamma-class assault shuttle here." The Captain indicated the large craft in front of them. Several flight deck crewmen were busy rolling up barrels full of grease and other flammable liquids that had survived the jump. Other crewmen were occupied with siphoning the contents of the barrels into the shuttle's fuel cell.

"If you are assured, Captain, then that is enough for me. These craft will take quite a beating before they quit on you. I'm positive we can get a minimum of three trips to the planet's ring before the engine gives out." Actually Volt had no idea how the craft would perform. As ISB Major Eritech his training had been in infiltration and psychological operations as well as political ideology, not in starfighter classes. From what he had overheard from the flight deck crew they were positive the thing would be lucky to pick up its cargo and deliver it to its destination only once. He was starting to understand that the Gamma's engines were a bit more delicate than the TIE series.

The Captain had insisted on going ahead with his plan to aid the Fleet, and had even promised that all the ore they recovered would be brought to the refining starship the Carbon instead of the Insertion. The Captain had made the disgusting promise of putting the Fleet's needs before their own. As Eritech, the idea had revolted him, but as Volt he had gone along with his Captain's plan.

The flight crew signaled that the Gamma was topped off and the fuelers started gathering and stowing their gear. The Bridge Commander and Captain had to move out of the way a few minutes later as a quartet of Zero-G assault troopers made their way across the hanger and up the ramp of the Gamma. Within the shuttles cockpit Eritech watched as a pair of pilots saluted the Captain as they raised the loading ramp. The Captain saluted them back which made Eritech cringe when he witnessed the symbol of imperial servitude being used by such obvious traitors.

The hanger wasn't evacuated as it had been aboard the Quill. Their own docking shield had been deemed to be powered to sufficient levels for normal flight operations. Eritech knew personally that it was only at fifty percent efficiency, but evidently that had been enough for FlightOps to say it was safe. He kept one eye on the path he would have to travel to the nearest airlock in case of emergency anyways.

Everyone in the hanger stepped well clear of the shuttle as it started to power up. The engine started its low whine as its sublight drive engine went through the normal rotations of its operations. Maybe this could work, Eritech thought. Suddenly all eyes turned to the craft as it let out a horrendous roar. The scream of its engine filled every corner of the hanger, and Eritech was sure that his eardrums were almost to the point of rupture. He tried to scream a warning to the Captain, but found his voice was smothered by the deafening banshee of an engine. Abruptly there was the noise that sounded as if a large sheet of metal was being ripped in two followed by a thousand clanks and grinds as the engine slowly came to a sputtering stop.

Flames were seen coming from the craft's undercarriage and firefighting crews ran forward to battle the engine fire. Eritech watched the scene in silent contempt for his Captain's wisdom. Another crewman reached the landing platform and used a scissor looking pry tool to release the exit for the men trapped inside. The ramp dropped with a loud thud against the flight deck and a SpaceTrooper clumsily rolled down the ramp. Smoke poured forward from the passenger compartment of the shuttle above the trooper. Flight crew helped the man up as the two pilots and the other SpaceTroopers made a more dignified exit of the craft. The Insertion would have to find another way to help the Fleet get underway again.
"Captain, I believe things are well in hand here. I suggest we retire to the Command Bridge and think of a new plan." Eritech suggested.

The Captain could see he was just getting in the way of the damage control party and retreated to Eritech's position further from the stricken shuttle. The fire seemed to have died out under the foamy assault of the fire crew and the smoke even appeared to be thinning out across the hanger. Eritech made a note to have this particular uniform cleaned as soon as the starship's laundry was operational again. "Yes, I agree, Commander. There's not much the two of us can do here. Deck Officer!" The Captain yelled at a nearby officer. "I'll need a full damage report as soon as you can compile one. I'll be on the bridge."

"Yes, sir, right away, sir." The man replied before moving back towards the crash site of the Gamma.
The air was remarkably cleaner as the two men entered the passageway leading away from the hanger. Several damage control parties on their way to the bay snapped to attention as the high ranking officers made their way past them. The Captain just waved them forward, and Eritech found his annoyance rising again, as he would have had the junior crewmen wait until they had passed by.

With the turbolifts still out of commission, the two of them had to make the long climb back to the Command Bridge through a series of steep maintenance stairwells. It was with no small matter of pride that Eritech found the exercise exhilarating while at the same time he listened as the elder Captain wheeze several times to catch his breath. He had to stifle a laugh of contempt when he remembered the starship's gravity was still only set at 0.75g to save on power.
The bridge was his new domain and was starting to feel more like a home than his sparse quarters a few decks away. It was with a small amount of relief whenever he stepped back on its deck. He had the opportunity once again to find out what these traitors to his Emperor had been up to since he had left for a fool's errand in the hanger bays.
"Captain Halser, there is an encoded message from the Quill coming in." A hyperwave radioman reported from the crew pit.

"Fire up one of the holoprojectors." Eritech ordered.

"It's in Aurebesh, Commander." The man answered.

"Command screen three, Commo." The Captain countered, but to Eritech it sounded more like a suggestion. Not the proper spirit at all he thought. Instead of showing his displeasure he moved over to the screen to read the message.
The message was strange. The Quill was requesting help from five Star Destroyers in the assault line, in moving a CT-11 Space Tug forward towards the flagship. The Captain seemed to know what the Quill was asking them to do well before Eritech had a clue.

"Bring the tractor beams online, full power." Halser ordered the room. "Divert power from decks 12 thru 34 and drop all nonessential power sources above twenty five percent of starship operability. Have a Gonk standing by near the tractor beam power cells." Sailors jumped at every one of the Captain's commands and Eritech wondered for a second what it would be like to weld such respect.

"Bridge Commander Volt do you want to take this one?" The Captain asked.

"Yes, sir. Crewman, where is the CT-11 right now?" Eritech was slowly coming around to what had been asked of the Insertion.

"Sir, it is currently alongside the prison transport Manacle." A voice came from the pit. "The Kuat's Desert will be passing her along to us in forty five standard minutes."

"Once the tractor beams are powered up put them on standby." Eritech ordered. "Monitor the CT-11 and notify me as soon as the Kuat's Desert is passing it forward." Eritech silently tried to remember each ship's position in the Fleet. The CT-11 would start well in the rear of Tarkin's Fist inside of Moff Culter's Anoat Squadron. He supposed the Moff had enlisted several of the craft to move around large terraforming equipment he had brought along for the maw. Next the tug would be moved though Seco's Ploo Squadron till it was passed off to two Kuati destroyers. After that it would be handed off to the Insertion, and then punted up to the Quill for whatever nefarious purpose Fleet Admiral Yos had for it.

Forty five minutes later Eritech was guiding the Insertion's tractor beams onto the huge spacecraft being guided forward by the Kuati's beams. The second the computer system confirmed that the Insertion had a successful capture the Kuat's Desert cut the energy to its own gravity weapon. For five long minutes Eritech directed the space tug forward past the Insertion's superstructure and several dozen other waiting warships. Eritech felt a momentary urge to fling the tug as hard as he could at the flagship ahead of him, but stopped himself when he wasn't sure if it could even penetrate the flagship's armor. Another time he told himself once again.

The computer core signaled that the tractor beams were pulling against the Quill's and Eritech ordered the Insertion to power hers down. He watched the forward viewport as the giant space tug glided silently alongside the Quill.
"Cut all power to the tractor beam power cells, and return ship to previous power levels." The Captain ordered. Eritech was surprised to find his superior standing over by the communication station. "Commander Volt well done. Can you come over here and see what you make of this?"

His curiosity peaked once more, and Eritech hurried over to Halser who was holding one earpiece of a commo headset to his ears. "We picked up a strange signal while you were busy with the tug." The Captain informed him. He handed Eritech another headset. "What do you think?"

Eritech listened to the garbled message. He recognized the sound instantly. "It sounds like some kind of binary code, sir." He lied. It sounded exactly like an Imperial Viper Probe Droid. His first thought was they had been found, but if that was true he needed to get his hands on that droid to signal the ISB before they attacked and destroyed all of his work.

"The Insertion should be the ship that investigates that signal, sir." Eritech suggested.

"I'm sure the Fleet Admiral will assign the proper forces for retrieval, Commander." The Captain answered.

"Sir, I believe the Insertion has the best chance of a successful retrieval. You witnessed our abilities with the tractor beams a few moments ago."

"Yes, Commander, but the Insertion is currently incapable of even turning around. How do you suggest we get to whatever is causing this signal?" His training as a spy failed him when he sought an answer regarding ship engines.
"You are correct of course, sir." He tried to hide his frustration. "I just have a feeling, no, wait . . . I know that, that signal could be the source of a lot of answers for everyone." The Captain just searched the spy's face looking for his meaning.

Eritech wasn't going to tell the fool a thing.
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Mid-Continental Mountain Range, Small Landmass, Undiscovered Planet, Unknown Space
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He had been driving the large fuel carrier for the past eight hours and only had another six to go before he reached the refinery. Storms in the southlands as well as talk of another war on the other side of the planet were driving up prices once again. He made his way through one mountain pass after another. Every now and then he would fiddle with the carrier's satellite radio as reception would fade in and out frustratingly.

He had made this route perhaps a hundred times over the past few years, and never recalled the static as being so bad. Only a few other vehicles were out this late at night or this high up in the mountains. A few times he was tempted to pull over his conveyance and get some rest, but the thought of the credits he would receive at the end of this haul kept him going.

As he slowly made his way up another incline he was stricken by how many stars were visible tonight. Stars were something of a memory after settling down in one of the planet's distant cities. The thought of his wife and home drove him on through the darkness as well.

When he reached the peak of the next mountain the static on his commo suddenly became a rush of voices from afar.
". . . need working blasters, prisoners control decks five through . . ."
". . . a probe of some . . ."
". . . never be ready when the Grand Moff calls . . ."
". . . spectrometry readings show a tremendous opportunity in the nearby . . ."
". . . was screeching like a mynock . . . Fierfek . . . more Gonks . . ."

The voices went on and on. Some of the voices were calm and rational followed by ones in total panic and fear. The driver kept driving for hours listening to the strange sounds and wondering where on the planet they were coming from. Sometime towards dawn the fuel carrier descended from the mountains and the voices once again returned to static.
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MedBay Cresh, Imperial Prison Ship Manacle, unknown space

Brakatak wiggled the loose tooth with his tongue. He hoped somebody would have a pair of pliers whenever they were finally allowed to return to their old hold. He had a feeling the busted tooth was going to have to be yanked before it got infected.

The loose tooth as well as a huge bruise and swelling across the left side of his face where the results of an unpowered force baton being viciously whipped across his face during the riots that had been fought to regain control of the ship. At the moment it appeared as if the guards had won, but they still had a few more decks to clear before the ship was declared secure, by whoever was in charge. One of those decks included his old home of Hold G-2, which explained his presence as a refugee in one of the Manacle's MedBays.

The MedBay was one of the few places onboard that had any sort of lighting after someone had ran power cables over from the Tector-class Star Destroyer Trapped. It still wasn't much, but at least there was some gravity and you could at least see your hand in front of your face. The Ishi Tib, Frip, and the two Firrerreo teenagers, Ashlei and Keatly, had stayed with the huge Gran while he was unconscious.

"The medics only slap a Grav-press bandage on Brakatak, then flung you against wall, because you dirty prisoner." Frip explained. "We protect you till you awake."

"We moved you," Ashlei indicated herself and Keatly. "It was easy in zero-G."

"Yeah, you we're as light as a feather, once that wall of troopers went past during the riot, the medic that was with them just waved the three of us on through." Keatly added.

"How come we're still here then?" Brakatak asked. "I mean if I can't get any more help out of the Imps, we might as well head back to the herd." Brakatak started to rise to his feet. The room started to spin a little as he stood and Frip caught him before he could fall and do some real damage to himself.

"Careful, we are still low gravity, and you have head injury. Don't stand so fast." He lowered Brakatak back to the deck again. A medic or nurse ran by dressed in their standard hospital scrubs. The human female had to be careful not to step on any of the multitude of prisoners that lined the wall. Near the end of the room stood a guard with an onewly powered force pike who seemed ready to use it against any of the slaves if they got out of hand.

"We can't go back, Brakatak. We already asked. Those decks are still being cleared." Keatly informed him.

"The guards just asked us why we were out of our holds, and then when they wanted to know what hold we came from. We told them G-2." Ashlei threw in. "That's when they got mad and said since that area of the ship wasn't secured yet that we'd have to stay here until it was."

"It's a good thing too; we saw the guards welding doors in place over the holds they had secured. They really don't want us wandering about."

"I wonder why they didn't just throw us in the nearest open hold and secure it after us." Brakatak wondered aloud.

"Empire procedures. Empire lose track of which slave where. Not good for datapads. Gives stormies many headaches if we're not in right rooms." Frip laughed.

"I hear you. When I was in school we had these three Gran boys who were triplets and each of them was in a different classroom. They got in so much trouble running our teachers around trying to figure out which was which." Brakatak launched into several tales from his own educational years, never noticing his friends were listening just in order to pass the time away. It wasn't till an hour later that he noticed Ashlei had fallen asleep leaning against his muscular arm.
He reached over to Frip and shook him as the Ishi Tib had also closed his eyes a couple of minutes ago. Brakatak had thought he was just resting them from the strain of having to use them in low light. Frip's eyelids shot open and he looked at his friend. "Sorry, you say again?"

"Do you think we can get some food down here? It's been a while since I've last eaten."
"That's a long time then for a Gran." Keatly said. She hadn't fallen asleep, but instead had maintained a watchful guard over her friends.

"Guards say no move. MedBay very crowded. They even only take slaves one at time to 'fresher." Frip explained again.
"Maybe they'll bring food in the morning like they did while we were in the hold. I wonder how the herd is holding up." Brakatak pondered.

"I'd say pretty wizard. Frekfrek had quite the stockpile when we left." Ashlei said, waking up from her short nap. She let out a huge yawn as she stretched her arms out.

"I hate this sitting and waiting. My shebs are getting pretty sore." Brakatak whined. His attention to his backsides didn't last long as he soon noted the presence of a squad of stormtroopers entering the MedBay. Brakatak noticed their weaponry was a mix of vibroblades, Rodian razor sticks, castor nets, and what looked like a huge Gamorrean cleaver. These boys weren't messing around.

They walked up to the one of the doctors working on a wounded Rattataki slave that was bleeding out on one of the rooms operating tables. "Where are the walking wounded?" the stormtrooper who appeared to be in charge of the small squad asked.

"Can't you see we're a bit busy here, Corporal." One of the nurses shot back out of frustration. The med teams had been working with a nonstop wave of casualties ever since Brakatak had reawakened. The only slave that had been allowed to move around the MedBay had been a small Dib-doob with a mop for all the blood on the floor.

"They're over that way." The doctor indicated Brakatak's direction with his thumb. The six troopers moved towards the crowd of almost a hundred slaves crowded along the floor and walls of the hospital. The Corporal just stood in front of all of them for a minute silently considering the mass of aliens. Brakatak had heard they had comlinks inside their helmets, but hadn't seen it in action until two of the stormtroopers suddenly lunged forward towards the same muscular Jillsarian. They pulled the slave out and moved him to a position behind them. Three more large slaves were pulled out of the crowd in the same manner before the Corporal was standing in front of Brakatak. A moment later another pair of troopers was jerking Brakatak to his feet and moving him to their makeshift holding area.

"No, wait we with him." Frip yelled. The girls were on their feet as well. The Corporal stared at them for a minute.

"How much can you lift? Do you have any injuries?" his voice suddenly projected through his helmet's speaker.

"We carried him up here to the MedBay." Ashlei pointed at Brakatak and indicated Keatly and herself. "We can handle whatever those guys can't. Frip here too." She jerked her thumb at the Ishi Tib. He clicked his beak and tried to flex his arms to look bigger. Obviously Brakatak's friends had figured out what the stormies were after well before he did.

The Corporal looked across the huddled masses and realized he didn't have much to choose from to start with. "Fine go and join your kriffing buddy over there." He waved the three forward. The girls gave Brakatak a big hug when they caught up to him.

"No separate from school no more." Frip said relieved.

After a few more minutes of picking and choosing the squad finally settled on fifteen slaves that they turned and marched out of the MedBay with. Brakatak was confused when they weren't led below decks, as he had assumed they were to be used clearing damage from the riots with the slaves down there. Instead they kept climbing single file up stairwells and ladders till they reached an equipment bunker near the Manacle's bridge. The Corporal opened the room and filed the prisoners into it. Along the walls were enviro-suits, condenser units, and other survival gear.

"Hurry up and find a enviro-suit that will fit you. You want one you can move in and won't get caught on anything and tear. Believe me when I tell you that you do not want that." The Corporal barked.

The girls and Frip fit easily into some standard human-sized suits, but Brakatak and a few of the other aliens had a little trouble finding ones that were more their size. Keatly showed Brakatak how to release the extender tabs on the arms and legs so that the enviro-suit fit a bit more comfortably on the big Gran. Once everyone was suited up a crewmen entered and started issuing each of the slaves a helmet that secured itself to the suit. When Brakatak donned his bucket he found that his middle eye stalk was rubbing up against the clear plastoid bubble. He wisely thought it best not to complain about it.

The squad led the prisoners back out of the locker and moved them towards a large airlock near the rear of the bridge. An officer waited at the door and inspected the motley group. "Stang it. Is this the best you could find, Corporal?" The human asked with a sneer.

"Most of the lower levels are still engaged in putting down the uprising, sir. This is the best we could locate in the MedBay." The junior NCO explained. Brakatak took the time to look through the airlock at the craft they were evidently about to transfer to. It was painted yellow with a giant CT-11 painted in large black aurebesh lettering along its side. It was the size of a small freighter and its superstructure carried a huge amount of heavy equipment. Lights coming from the few viewports on the thing showed that someone in the Fleet had fully powered up the craft.

"I guess this scum will have to do then." The officer conceded. "You lot, get inside the airlock. When the door on the other side opens move along the access tube till you reach the troopers on the other side. Do you understand?" Brakatak as well as several other slaves near the man nodded their understanding. The officer gestured for them to get inside and shut the door to the Manacle behind them. After a strange sucking noise was heard the blast door to the access tube was open. Once again Brakatak experienced zero-G as the slaves hurried across the thin plastoid tubing that led to the other spacecraft. A squad of strangely suited stormtroopers greeted them as they came aboard the other craft. He stood trying to figure them out, until he overheard another slave suggest that the new troopers were in fact SpaceTroopers especially equipped to deal with zero-G environments.

They were led into another cell, where one of the troopers indicated they could take their helmets off once again. Brakatak felt gravity returning and even noticed the enviro-suit felt a lot heavier onboard the CT-11. He suddenly remembered they were a class of space tugs from his studies in college.

"We're on a tug." He announced.

"They sure do use a lot more gravity on this tug than the Manacle ever did," Keatly noticed. The girls looked like they were trapped under the weight of their suits. The starship gave a small shudder. "I think we're moving too."
"I don't hear any engine noise. Are you sure?" Brakatak asked.

"Not really, but why bring us on board if they weren't going to take us somewhere." Brakatak broke into another story about how he was training to become a pilot one day, but so far the closest he had come to it had been as a slave aboard a tug. Every fifteen minutes or so there was another shudder and the tug seemed to lurch in a new direction. If you sat still you could just barely make out which way they were moving.

An hour later they were all being led off of the craft by the strange troopers and through another access tube to their final destination. Brakatak was stunned when he removed his helmet again and found himself standing on the deck of an Imperial II Star Destroyer.
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Observatory, Orbital Laboratory Starship Achievement, Kuati Third Fleet, Unknown Gas Giant Capture Orbit
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"When do you think we'll be able to power up all of the science arrays again?" Dr Paladin of the Duros Astronomical and Space Exploration Society asked his colleague.

"Weeks, I'm guessing. We should consider ourselves lucky that they got the heat going again. It was getting stang frigid in here as I recall." His friend from the Royal Alderaan Space Sciences University answered.

"The instruments like the cold, besides I can't believe old Kuat could be happy when he finds out all we have for entertainment is twiddling our thumbs." Paladin warned.

"He's had to make cuts with almost every experiment under his command, besides we've been dragooned by the Fleet so we technically aren't working for the Moff anyways. We might as well get back to it." His friend told him over a steaming cup of caf.

Paladin just shrugged. He stood and grabbed an instrument near the floor to ceiling viewport that made up one section of the observatory. "I can't believe I've been reduced to using this Neuro-Saav VXI-3 electrotelescope. I feel like I'm back in my freshman days at the university."

"I hear you, but they beat the fierfek out of macrobinoculars."

"True enough. It looks like we got something big plowing its way through the belt in Sector 6." Paladin voice rose at with the joy of new discovery. "That might be just what the Admiral's looking for." His friend stood up and grabbed his own electotelescope before approaching the viewport.

"I'm reading about 950 kilometer diameter, looks like a small moon."

"That's no moon." Paladin corrected, "Just a big asteroid. I'm getting readings of ice, dolomite, cronstedtite, siderite, olivine, silicates, sulfides, and most importantly oxides. Do you concur?"

His friend studied his own instruments for a minute. "I concur. This looks like just what the Admiral ordered."

"Let's call it in."

TIE Boarding Craft, approach to suspected Mining Guild probe droid, unnamed gas giant orbit

Captain Roblin was extremely curious about the crew compliment on this particular hop. His brand new wing commander, Major Vertitas, was in the pilot's chair with what Roblin supposed was a very satisfying grin underneath his flight helmet. Roblin made up the other half of this mixed crew. Since Vertitas was now in charge of flight assignments, Roblin was surprised he was even in another TIE again. The only conclusion he could come up with was that the Major was setting him up for the fall if this mission went south.

They were now seventy-five kilometers behind the last starship in Moff Culter's Anoat Squadron and putting more distance between them every second. Roblin watched the Fleet's positions in regards to the nearby monster of a gas giant. It was with a worried look that he checked their locations as scuttlebutt onboard ship was that some of the Fleet had already started to notice their orbits were starting to decay. All estimates were that they would meet a fiery explosive death six weeks from now, and tensions were starting to rise throughout the Fleet that the event could start happening any moment. It was a relief when the sensors didn't pick up any changes in their orbit since the last time the Quill had done a range check.

The two TIE pilots were crammed in the sensor-filled compartment of the Quill's remaining TIE/bc while a large mechanical grappling arm took up most of the cargo space in the other pod of their craft. Technicians had to cut away the lower portion of the assault pod in order to get the device aboard, while at the same time the newly promoted Captain (Junior-grade) had been elected to take a crash course in its operation. Vertitas had volunteered to pilot the mission, as it was pretty obvious a promotion was coming down the pipeline along with his new post, and a successful capture mission would look stellar on his personnel record when the promotion's board had a look at it.

The fact that he chose Roblin as his co-pilot perplexed him until he came up with the scapegoat reasoning. "How is the vector, QI2-1-2 . . . you know we really don't have the same designations anymore, Captain Roblin." Vertitas broke across the crew channel. "What with both of our new jobs and ranks."

"New jobs, sir?" Roblin tried to sound innocent.

"Yes, I'm giving you the Mynock Squadron's Commander slot. Congratulations." Vertitus tried to sound benevolent.

"Thank you, sir. We could still be QI2-1-1 and QI2-1-2 since we seem to be the only operating squadron off of the Quill at the moment." Roblin suggested trying to appease his commander's usually overzealous sense of duty. "Not only that, but I believe we're the only operational TIE craft in Tarkin's Fist."

"That would work." Roblin could swear his commander was actually sounding happy over the comm. "What's the distance to target, 1-2?"

"Five kilometers, recommend reducing to flank speed."

"Roger that, reducing speed to approach speed, prepare the retrieval arm. I'm bringing the target along the 3-9 line." Vertitus said.

Roblin went through the start up process on the device. This mission had been deemed critical enough to divert some of the precious fuel that had been earmarked for a CT-11 space tug to their TIE/bc. Fuel levels had been so low that their time over the target was limited to seven minutes if they wanted to make it back to the Quill in one piece. If they spent eight minutes over the target Roblin was hoping the tractor beam crews were wide awake.

"I have visual of target. Do you confirm, QI2-1-1?" the Captain junior grade could play by the regulations when he wanted to, besides a dozen FlightOps officers aboard every starship in the Fleet were probably listening in on this channel.

"I confirm visual, QI2-1-2." Vertitas seemed irked that he didn't notice the probe before Roblin did.

"That's a big sucker, sir. Any idea what those things are coming off of its axial body are?"

"One of them looks like an ancient version of a hyperwave radio antenna."

"If I had to guess, QI2-1-1, I would say those other four appendages look like wings." Roblin wondered.

"I concur, though they could be solar arrays like we have on the TIEs, 1-2." Roblin was relieved the Major was finally dropping the first part of their call signs as that part was always a mouthful to get out whenever he was in the middle of a hop.

"I am starting my scan for defensive systems, 1-1." He waited a few seconds while the targeting computer processed the readings. "I am showing negative presence of any shield technology or weaponry of any type."

"I confirm with visual scan, recommend retrieval, 1-2."

"Arm engaged. Advising that there is no possible way we can bring this device onboard our craft, 1-1."

"Roger that, we'll just have to tow it back to ISD 1765 with the claw." He used the Quill's designation over open commo, and there was no point to alerting any rebels in the area to the Quill's identity. Security was especially critical now that they had found some sort of probe droid in the neighborhood.

"Two hundred meters to capture. I'm getting some low level radiation readings off of this thing." He announced.

"Arresting all shipboard motion. Is there any danger to us or the capture vehicle?"

"Fifty meters. Levels are within safety margins." He confirmed with a slight glance at his sensors.

"On target, 1-2." Vertitas tracked his progress visually through the forward viewport of the crew pod. "Keep it steady" his commander encouraged.

"Ten meters, expanding claw." The arm's retrieval claw looked like a grasping four-fingered hand as it approached the probe.

"Five meters."

"Recommend dropping the lower left portion of the claw, 1-2."

Roblin wished his commander wouldn't jostle his elbow at a time like this. "We have contact." He announced as the droid in front of them shook at the sudden impact from the capture arm.

"Three minutes till recall, 1-2"

"Constricting claw." The four prongs of the claw started to constrict on the droid's body. Suddenly one of the wings or solar arrays snapped off and spun away towards the planet below.

"Slowly, 1-2, careful." Vertitas said.

"Sorry, 1-1." A minute later the claw had the droid firmly in its grip. Roblin could even see its outer metal shell buckling in places where the device was gripping it too strongly.

"Probe is secured, recommend evac at half flank speed back to ISD 1765." Roblin suddenly realized how much he had been sweating during the pressure of the retrieval. He needed a cold shower once he got back on the Quill, and he was in luck because at the moment that was all that was available.

"Roger that, 1-2, half flank speed." The TIE/bc slowly banked and started its return flight to Tarkin's Fist while towing the mysterious probe droid in its grip. "FlightOps this is Retrieval Flight. We are inbound plus one. ETA is in fifteen minutes standard."

Another voice cut over the comm. "Roger that, Retrieval Flight. ETA in fifteen."

"Please advice command that we will have to be landing in the Beta Hanger. This probe is pretty large." Vertitas explained. "Estimate size at one zero zero meters, how copy?"

"Copy that, one zero zero meters, FO 1765 out."
Roblin watched as the probe started to out gas with its thrusters. "It looks like this thing is trying to escape, 1-1."

"How's the arm's grip?"

"Locked in place. This guy isn't going anywhere." Roblin reported.

"Keep it monitored, 1-2."

They flew along for several more minutes in silence. It wasn't until they were once again soaring past the picket ships in the Anoat Squadron that the Major suddenly removed his flight helmet. He turned in his seat and signaled for Roblin to do the same. Roblin unstrapped the connections and placed his bucket in his lap.

"What the fierfek is that thing, Captain?" Vertitas asked.

"I don't know, Major. It doesn't look like any probe droid I've ever seen."

"When they first sent us out there, I thought we were going to run into some kind of half powered viper probe droid or some old clone war Prowler 1000, but that thing we're dragging back there doesn't look anything like any probe droid I've ever heard of."

"I was thinking the same thing, sir. I was trying to figure out if it was some kind of Techno Union or Banking Clan craft. I don't know, something the Seps used to use." Roblin pondered out loud.

"Whatever it was. It's using some kriffing old technology. I don't think we've used some of that gear since before the Old Republic Era. Just where in the Galaxy are we?" Vertitas asked.

"I have no idea, but hopefully Fleet can get some answers out of this thing, because it sure enough going to raise a lot of questions." Roblin stated.

"I agree. Alright we're about to make our landing approach. Put your bucket back on." Vertitas ordered.

"Aye aye, sir."

They made their approach and slowly glided through the docking shield. The presence of atmosphere made the probe start to ice over. That thing sure was cold, Roblin figured. The hanger's arrester claw caught the TIE/bc and suspended it high above the flight deck. Vertitas sighed loud enough to be heard over the comm. When Roblin looked down at the gauges he noticed they had twenty-three seconds of fuel left.

Teams of ground crewmen rushed forward to secure the probe under the watchful eye of stormtroopers armed with nothing more than melee weapons. They weren't taking any chances with this spy probe. An alarm suddenly went off within the TIE as they were in the middle of powering down.

"The probe is transmitting!" Roblin yelled.

"Jam it!" Vertitus responded.

"FlightOps is attempting to intercept signal!" The alarm turned off as abruptly as it had gone off. Roblin knew the probe droid's signal had transmitted. Every being in the hanger probably had the same idea.

"What the heck did it just send?" Vertitas asked.

"And who did it send it to?" Roblin added.
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Hera Control Room, La Canada Flintridge, Undiscovered Planet, Local System
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Third shift was always the slowest. Most of the monitors in the room were powered down for the night or in standby mode. The one technician in the room struggled to stay awake as he played a card game on the computer in front of him.
Slow steady footsteps came from the hallway outside followed by the creak of the control room door. "I got us some more energy drinks, Jim." The supervising engineer announced as he carried two steaming cups of java into room. Jim barely acknowledged with a grunt. "Anything new?"

"They've still got that team of communication experts downstairs with the Orion shuttle team."

"Our little Hera is still performing satisfactory," Jim always enjoyed his coworkers eastern accent. It mixed well with his southern tones. "Except of course for the last six hour data dump earlier. The one that was full of static."

"The Project Director wants us to call him if we have any issues with the next one." Jim stated trying to fight off late night boredom. He started to gulp down the drink his friend had brought him. "You can do that though. I'm not going to be the one who calls the Director at four in the morning on a weekend."

"She's worked fine for over three years. I doubt she goes haywire on us tonight."

"Which is why I'm highly involved in my card game." Jim went back to his game, while his co-worker sat down and started surfing Reddit on the net at his own station. Forty-five minutes an error message cut across both of their screens. Several hard drives in the room started powering up at once, while the two technicians checked their own monitoring stations for the source of the message.

"Hera's position and alignment are changing." Jim announced.

"I'm computing course corrections." The other man said with a worried look on his face. "Did it get hit by something?"

"We haven't tracked anything near her in months, and I know for a fact she's not close enough to the rings at the moment." The two men went through several emergency protocols as they frantically tried to save their project's craft. Jim crossed his fingers as he waited for the course corrections to reach Hera. He knew it would take thirty-five minutes for the message to reach her, just as it had taken thirty-five minutes for Hera to radio her condition in the first place.

"Nothing's changing. She's not responding to her course corrections."

"I'm calling the Director. Hera is more than two hundred miles off course." Jim picked up the phone.

"Wait her course has stopped." Another alert warning came across the screen. This one they had seen a hundred times before over the years. "Data stream coming in. Its pretty messed up. We're only getting visual data from one of her visible spectrum cameras." Both men looked as the first image slowly filtered itself onto the control room's main plasma screen monitor.

"Hey, are those people?"

Both men lunged for their phones.
----------------------------------------------------
Science Station, Imperial II-class SD Quill, Unknown Space

Both of the boys in her prep class looked like scruffy looking nerf herders. At least that was Phasma's judgment of their appearance. Her opinion of their study habits was even lower. Most of the crew's families were located on an Imperial transport well behind the Quill, but these two had the right connections to be made cadets like her, and were serving the Star Destroyer before they were sent off to the Academy. One of their fathers was commander of the port side ion cannon, while the other was a doctor in the Imperial Medical Corps serving aboard the Quill's MedBay.

The three of them were being tutored by a 1st Lieutenant that served the starship's Science Station. The Science Staion was directly subordinate to Commander Yutu in Signals Intercept. Phasma had heard they were all somehow part of Naval Intelligence. The two other cadets were a few years older than her, but that didn't stop them from peering at her whenever they had the chance. She naively thought they must be jealous of her new rank insignia that she proudly wore on her chest. That her own looks were what drew their attention, never once crossed her mind.

The Lieutenant kept rambling on about which other systems in the Galaxy also possessed gas giants and the historical significance of mining them. The only thing a fleet officer needed to know about them, she thought, was that they provided gas for blasters and not to sail too close to one. She was more interested learning about TIEs and how to fly them. She had decided to take up her father's youthful dream and become a pilot straight out of the Academy.

"How come we have a space tug tied up alongside the Quill?" She interupted the officer's lecture. He had been tutoring them for months before they left the Subterrel Sector, and she had learned the he had been a top geologist on Imperial Center for the Imperial Army before mysteriously being assigned aboard her father's flagship.

"The Fleet Admiral has an idea about using it to probe the nearby asteroid belt for useable material for the Fleet, especially fuel." The lieutenant saw an opportunity for a lesson. "Can anyone tell me what materials are used in fueling a starship?"
One of the boys standing next to a huge magnetron spoke first. "Tachyons and hypermatter." He answered crisply.

"That would be true of a hyperdrives, although some also use anti-matter as fuel, but what I was asking about was the sublight drive engines." The officer responded.

"Um, petroleum?" the other boy answered.

The junior officer laughed in response. "We would, if we were still in the steel or steam age. I suppose next you'll suggest nuclear fuel. Lieutenant Yos would you like to hazard a guess."

"Actually, sir, you weren't far off. The sublight drives are powered by a series of fusion reactors and energy converters that can change almost any type of heavy ore into fuel. The preferred pure grades of fuel come from Peragus II and are known as Peragian fuels. Other types that are used by the Navy include Otmosian from Otmos III, Corporate Sector Fuels, Fresian VII, which is actually from Fresia IV, and anthracite if you ever find your ship in a pinch. The only reason starships don't use hypermatter for the sublight engines is because of its expense and weight. A piece of hypermatter the size of my fist weighs about ten thousand tons, thus the point of having ultra dense bunkers to store the stuff onboard." Phasma rattled off the answer as if she was teaching the lesson.

"Very good, Lieutenant." The senior lieutenant congratulated her on her answer. The two boys seemed to muttering something to each other. Phasma thought she heard the words Admiral's daughter and teacher's pet from their secretive conversation. "Is there anything you'd like to add, Cadets?" Phasma liked the way the officer emphasized their lower ranks.

"No, sir." They both responded with drilled precision.

"Astral, I think we are through with our lessons for the day. Remember to review your trigonometry and quantum physics lessons as we will be reviewing that section of the Academy entrance exams tomorrow. Dismissed." Phasma watched as the two cadets left and then approached the station's observation viewport which was mostly blocked by a huge infrared spectrometer. The lieutenant motioned for her to take a look. She bent forward and put her face to the eyepiece before gazing across space through the device's scope. She saw the device was focused on a huge asteroid cruising through the belt. Information about its composition and mass was displayed along the edges of the scope and then transferred to monitors on the command bridge. "That's the beast that your father had in mind to capture." Her tutor indicated.

"Thank you, sir," she straightened. "I have other duties to attend to."

"Very good, Lieutenant. I will see you tomorrow." They both gave each other the proper salute before Phasma turned and marched out of the Science Station. The room had seemed dead and empty compared to times when she had the opportunity to study there before the jump. Now with ship wide power outages only a very strict few sensor systems had been allowed to come online, and some of those were only allowed to be turned on for short stretches at a time. This starship must be powered up again she thought. It had been her grand plan that was now in effect throughout the Fleet.

An hour didn't go by where someone didn't thank her or show her their appreciation for saving their lives, but for how long? Without fuel they were just going to get sucked into the gravity well of the neighborhood gas giant. She made up her mind that she was going to be part of getting the Fleet underway again as well.

She really didn't have any other duties besides as a training officer, but without fuel or blaster gas there wasn't a whole lot of that going on. So instead she made her way to the FlightOps deck. She still wasn't used to all of the salutes she got from all the enlisted sailors just for being a commissioned officer. She remembered to return them as she passed, but if she missed a few, it was because she was still learning. She didn't remember this many salutes whenever her father went anywhere onboard.

She entered Flight Control and was acknowledged by the duty officer who was still several ranks higher than she was. She strolled over to the viewport and took a look at the hanger deck. Several Naval Troopers were leisurely standing guard over fifteen red enviro-suited aliens who seemed to be eating their fill at a buffet that had been laid out for them. A large Gran in particular was putting the banquet away as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. She wondered where the aliens had come from onboard the Quill. She looked out of the hanger shield at the yellow space tug tied up alongside the Quill. When the answer came to her, she quickly figured why these beings were eating so voraciously. She suddenly formed another plan to help out the stricken Quill.

She left the control room and made her way to the hanger, while making a quick stop at an equipment locker on her way. She strolled onto the hanger deck while she was pulling on a tight form fitting black enviro-suit of the type that TIE pilots wore.

"Who's in charge of these prisoners?" She demanded as she approached the bored looking stormtroopers.

"I am, Lieutenant. VG-2229." A junior NCO introduced himself.

"Well, Corporal, I am Second Lieutenant Yos and I am taking command of the detail by orders of Fleet Admiral Yos." She waved her arm in the direction of the prisoners and their guards.

"That's fine with me, ma'am. We're just getting the prisoners some food while they do a fuel transfer below decks." So that's what they did with those small asteroids they had pulled in from the rings she figured. Her father must have had Commander Charge process them right in the Quill's own energy converters. It would be a low grade of sublight fuel, but it would work for the tugs. "They told us it wouldn't be much more than another half hour before we load them up onto the CT-11 parked outside."

"Let me know when we move. I'll be over here taking a look at our prisoners." Phasma indicated. She stood fifteen meters from the prisoners as a crewman from the starship's galley was carting away the finished remains of the meal they had been provided. They looked like an unkempt bunch if she ever saw one. There was a four armed Jillsarian who had stuffed two of his muscular arms inside of his suit and several other aliens from all over the outer rim. They each had a look of fear about them that said they were completely alone in the universe. There was the small exception of an Ishi Tib and his Gran friend who seemed to be protecting a pair of Firrerreon girls a few years older than Phasma. Their hair drew most of her attention as it hung loose and multi-colored down to their waists. It had a lustrous shine that must have been natural to their species as she couldn't figure how slaves would be able to keep it in such condition. She felt a pang of envy as she noticed that most of the stormtrooper squad nearby was also occasionally glancing at the teenage girls. Phasma wondered what her own hair would look like if she let it loose after a lifetime of keeping it in a tight bun as was approved Imperial Navy protocol for female personnel.

Her train of thought was broken at the approach of the stormtrooper corporal. "We're ready to hand them back over to the zero-G assault troopers on the tug, Ma'am. They're stating that they will be departing in about fifteen minutes."

"Very good, Corporal, um . . . you and your men aren't coming along." She realized she might have blown her story as the words escaped her lips. The Corporal didn't seem to notice.

"No, Ma'am, that tug has its own compliment of SpaceTroopers to guard the prisoners. I understand they're having all sorts of trouble maintaining their airlock so its captain, who's a CPO by the way, is requiring enviro-suits for her whole crew." Phasma nodded her understanding. She ordered the squad into action and they guided the prisoners to an access tube that had been run between the Quill and the docked CT-11. Phasma donned her own helmet and followed behind the prisoners. Halfway across Phasma noticed fuel lines and power cables outside being retracted back into the Quill. She was welcomed aboard by a pair of friendly SpaceTroopers that took her by the arms to help her make her way into the airlock.

"Welcome aboard the Pulley, Lieutenant." One of the men greeted her as the two of them secured the access tube. No sooner was the airlock secured behind them than the tug was pulling away from the Quill. Phasma stayed at the airlock viewport for a minute watching the fleet recede behind her. No turning back now she told herself. "It should be two hours at low sublight speeds till we reach the asteroid field, Ma'am."

"You can watch the prisoners from the ship's bridge. I don't think your enviro-suit can last more than an hour or two in hard vacuum." The other one suggested. He pointed the way out for her. It wasn't that big a ship she thought, as she made her way to the bridge. She greeted the 'Captain' as she stepped aboard the crammed little bridge. He was indeed a Chief Petty Officer, and technically Phasma outranked him. She felt it wouldn't be proper if she pulled rank on the sailor as it seemed he was doing a fine job without her.

"He doesn't know you're here does he?" The enlisted man asked her as he guided the starship towards the asteroid field that was steadily getting larger in his forward viewport. She was amused that the craft was controlled by a waist high steering stick much like a TIEs instead of a nav computer and helm controls like a Star Destroyer would have been.

"Who do you mean?" She asked innocently.

"The Admiral. There's no way he would have sent his only daughter out on this crazy mission. You know we're not due back till tomorrow and even then we're heading straight to the Carbon instead of the Quill."

"Oh, him, of course he knows." The CPO just snorted at her explanation. She was a little startled the the tug wouldn't be heading back to the Quill, but it made sense that whatever they found out in the belt would have to be towed back to the large refining ship in the Fleet.

"Whatever you say, Ma'am. None of my business." He spent the next hour and a half showing her the ropes of the tug's guidance systems, and even let her take the stick for a little while. It was an exhilarating experience, but it had to end as they entered the belt. The planetoid they were after was a huge monster that they could see with the naked eye shortly after leaving the Fleet. The asteroid belt was much sparser than belts she was used to back home in the Subterrel and the CPO didn't have any trouble dodging the few rocks between them and their target.

"Mining teams to the port airlock and retrieval bins." The captain announced over the ship's address system. Lieutenant Yos watched in awe as the tug pulled up to the side of the cold giant. She felt like she could reach out and touch its surface as the CT-11 came within ten meters of its face. Suddenly red suited figures were moving upon its surface below her.

She watched as the huge Gran manhandled a gasifier back and forth across the asteroid's surface. His Ishi Tib friend was using a carbonite nanofiber tube to suck up all the lose ore that was being stirred up from the mining. She saw the two teenage girls set up a sluice to ferry the ore to the receiving bins through a series of electro-trommels that sifted out unwanted ore from the debris. The time frame for this first dig was so short that she even noticed some SpaceTroopers helping out the prisoners by setting up a large drill while another one used a macro-stope to take analysis of the ore samples the slaves were extraditing. After several hours the slaves had spread all over the face of the monster and a large pit had been excavated below her. She passed the time trying to keep track of the white clad SpaceTroopers on the asteroids grey surface.

"How much are we gathering up, Chief?" She asked.

"We can carry five hundred thousand tons of high grade ore, which we'll have in another eight hours. Then we sink tow cables and blast holes and blow off as big a chunk as we can and tow it back to the fleet."

"Wow, how big are we thinking?"

"At least a fifth of its mass. That should be enough to fuel at least the attack squadrons in the Fleet for a few months, but I doubt your father is going to forget about the rest of the Fleet just to save his Star Destroyers." The chief explained. Phasma was deeply impressed and she had grown up around miners.

Sometime after the second watch, Phasma had found a small rack to sleep on and grabbed some shut eye. She was woken up several hours later by a large shaking and rushed back to the bridge. She was greeted by a sight she would never forget. Slave and SpaceTrooper alike crammed the rear viewports as a giant chunk of asteroid was torn off of the monster that was now behind them. Kilometer long durasteel cables ran from the ship back to the piece they had grabbed. Suddenly the diminutive tug was towing a rock the size of a Star Destroyer in her wake. Phasma felt as if they were in the path of a disastrous avalanche, but the CPO deftly handled his craft to maintain control of the large asteroid.

They started heading back towards the Tarkin's Fist, while the CPO spoke into his commo gear. She turned in time to be the first one to spot the Fleet again when the captain handed her a personal comlink.

"It's your father. I think you missed curfew."
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Dusk Mission Lander, Ceres, Main Belt Section, Asteroid Field
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The central processing unit was having trouble making sense of the commands it was receiving from its home base. Everything was coming through garbled. As a precaution the Lander had put itself in a safety stand-by mode until it received communications that were more clear.

Its instruments went into a passive scanning mode, and even the sudden presence of a mobile heat source, roughly 97.0 Fahrenheit and 160 pounds, nearby wasn't enough for it to break with its established protocols.

The Lander didn't realize how lucky it was that it wasn't noticed by the heat source as it was busy drilling a hole in the surface a hundred meters from the device. The white clad heat source dropped a satchel of unknown origin in the hole, and then moved away. The Lander was only concerned with what kind of minerals had been dug up by the disturbance.
It would ask permission to explore the hole once communications was restored, and until then it would wait in stand-by mode powering up its power cells with distant sunlight. Several hours had passed since the heat source had been detected
or contact had been made with base, so the Lander sent an inquiry for instructions.

A moment later the ground swelled beneath the Lander and it was violently propelled off of the surface. Its last recording before being smashed by another huge chunk of asteroid was an image of a yellow craft towing a piece of Ceres away.
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MAAT/i 1845 on approach to Imperial Dungeon Ship Abandoned Hope, center of Tarkin's Fist fleet formation

SF-4738 thought the inside of the darkened LAAT/i reminded him of a Rhen Var meat locker. It helped that half of his platoon had been crammed aboard the thing, but only a little. The only light the troopers had was that of their glow rods which gave the inside of the LAAT/i the feeling of being inside a dewback's belly. He ducked down and looked through the pilot's cockpit and saw the distant Gamma shuttle that was towing a line of fifteen unpowered LAAT/i, MAAT/i, and even one of the Theta-class of shuttles. Another Gamma flew nearby towing a similar line of transports from a diffrent Star Destroyer. The entire formation was led by a fueled TIE/bc that was carrying a contingent of zero-G assault troopers.

The pilot ahead of him was doing everything he could to keep his craft orientated on the same horizon plane as the rest of the flight. One LAAT/i ahead of them was spinning uncontrollable around and around on the durasteel tow cables. SF-4738 was glad he wasn't on that flight, as there's nothing like vomiting in your own helmet to start off a combat mission.

He turned back to the sealed crew compartment. When this mission was announced only enough fuel hadn been processed by the refining starship the Carbon for a few transports that were lucky enough to get any power at all. SF-4738's LAAT/i wasn't one of the lucky few. The veteran sergeant looked over the troopers close to him. Lieutenant Mahan was close by, but had donned a full set of scout trooper armor as he wouldn't have survived the trip without it. The young officer still looked like he was shivering, but SF-4738 had warned him to wear a full set of armor back on board the Insertion for more warmth. Mahan had said he wanted to have the men able to locate him easily in the upcoming fight. SF-4738 would have stuck with more armor. Hopefully the officer would live long enough to realize his mistake.

The lieutenant was armed with a vibroblade as well as a nasty looking Gand silencer, which was a type of energy baton. SF-4738 was the only man aboard that still carried his beloved E-11 blaster, but that was only because of the extra long vibrobayonet he had attached to its end. He also carried several pairs of stun cuffs, his own vibroblade, his combat gloves, and an Exchange Negotiator for taking down bigger thugs. Behind the Loot were the two troopers he had assigned as the officer's bodyguards HF-3105 and JN-6166. JN-6166 had a huge shockstaff along with a personal Z2 stun baton, while his partner was armed with a beastwarden's shield from Geonosis and a vibrorapier. Every trooper in the cargo bay was similarly armed with whatever he could pull out of the Insertion's weapon lockers and get powered up by a Gonk droid. Who ever thought of sending the stormies in without tibanna for their blasters, was probably earning a medal for this, SF-4738 figured. He'd been in the service long enough to know that the Fleet came up with the big ideas while the Corps did the bleeding, no matter how ridiculous those ideas might be.

SF-4738 had even been informed in the mission briefing that they were bringing a Gonk from the Star Destroyer Slash to power up anything they might need on the mission. What a mission it would be too. Almost every transport or cargo ship in the Fleet was carrying some sort of compliment of either slaves or prisoners and most had experienced some sort of uprising during the blackout that occured after the Fleet emerged in this system during the 'Big Jump' to the maw. Ninety-nine percent of them had been put down by the local guard forces that were already in place, even if they didn't have blaster technology anymore. The slave uprisings had generally died down once the guards started taking hostages and SpaceTroopers started arriving to help out. Still there reports of several guard forces getting whooped on pretty bad.
Platoon sergeant SF-4738 ducked back down again and looked at the approaching battle line of Moff Seco's Ploo Squadron. Well in the distance was the newest addition to the Fleet, a giant asteroid that was being worked over by an army of red enviro-suited slaves near the Carbon. Four CT-11 space tugs were slowly making their way through the fleet insuring that every starship had enough fuel to at least start up their reactors. It was a slow going process, but the Fleet Admiral was determined to save every ship in the Fleet, if it was at all possible. SF-4738 wished him luck. The only starship in the Fleet that wasn't showing any signs of life was straight in front of their assault line and directly in the middle of Moff Seco's squadron.

The Lictor-class Dungeon ship the Abandoned Hope sat like a gigantic black coffin above the orange gas giant that silhouetted it for all to see. At a thousand meters it carried ten quad turbolasers as well as two tractor beams, but all of those were known to be powered down like the rest of the blasters in the Fleet. What worried SF-4738 the most was that the ship also carried 860 crew members, who were assumed dead or hostages, as well as nine thousand of the worst prisoners Grand Moff Tarkin had shipped off of Desparye. At least three thousand of them were capital crimes offenders with death sentences hanging around their necks.

"I wonder why they don't just use one of the tugs to push her into a lower orbit and let the gas planet take care of her." Lieutenant Mahan joined him at the edge of the cockpit.

"I think the tugs are a little preoccupied at the moment, plus I heard Moff Seco's a little upset about losing one of his ships. I think they got us doing this as a favor to him, Loot." SF-4738 explained. "How about we step back inside the crew compartment, sir, and let these guys do their jobs."

The two men stepped back inside the cargo hold with the rest of the platoon. Mahan checked the function of a trooper's vibroaxe that was standing near him. We'll make a good officer out of that boy yet, SF-4738 thought.

"Hey, Sarge, did you hear about the Admiral's daughter." JN-6166 asked. The young officer was a favorite topic of all the stormtroopers who loved all the training she put in with them. She was almost an honorary member of the Corps even if she never saw combat with them.

"What now? She didn't single handedly save the Fleet again and get promoted to Grand Moff without ever going to the Academy again did she?"

"Not quite, Sarge," HF-3105 explained. "It turns out she ran away."

"Ran away? To where? We're all stuck in the same spot in space." Mahan asked.

"The lead TIE/bc is docking right now with the Abandoned Hope's airlock. Three minutes to LZ." The pilot cut across the comlink.

"She ran off with a bunch of SpaceTroopers to that asteroid they brought back. I hear the Admiral reamed her pretty good for it when she made it back to the Quill." HF-3105 stated.

"Those zero-G guys get all the girls." JN-6166 complained.

"You're more than welcome to join them, though I don't remember your aptitude scores being high enough, and besides the girl's only ten. Lot more piffers your own age back on ship." Lieutenant Mahan tried to joke with his trooper.

"Let's cut the chatter and get tactical, Troops." SF-4738 yelled over the platoon net. Suddenly every trooper onboard was getting out whatever hand weapon they had brought along and powering them up. They mentally were preparing themselves as well, to go tooth and nail with the scum of the Galaxy in the next few minutes.

"We're the next transport to unload, thirty seconds." The pilot announced. SF-4738 took another glimpse ahead and saw that the MAAT/i ahead of them was unloading a platoon of stormtroopers over to the airlock. A few Crowd Control stormtroopers moved with them. SF-4738 recognized them by their huge gripper claws and empty repulser jetpacks on their backs. There was a sudden lurch as the line grew taught and their transport was pulled into place. The armored door sprung open and they were greeted by the sight of six SpaceTroopers manning the airlock.

"Go. Go. Go." SF-4738 yelled over the commo and his boys lunged across open space towards the waiting dungeon ship. When all of his men made the leap a SpaceTrooper slammed the outer door of the airlock down. Two seconds later the inner door shot up and his platoon was swarming into a small hanger bay. SF-4738 was glad the ship had power running to its inertia dampers somewhere or the loss of gravity would have made this job all the more harder. The company's Captain was gathering the platoons together in the center of the room. Several black and red armor clad men stood guard at the one blast door to the hanger that hadn't appeared to be welded shut, but was barricaded closed instead. SF-4738 noticed the bloodstains that were scattered about the walls of the hanger.

"Men, this is what's going on." The Captain addressed the entire company. "These eight Imperial Dungeoneers are all that remains of the ship's compliment. Life sign indicators from nearby warships are stating that we still have over six thousand prisoners onboard and in control of twenty-three decks. The only part of the ship we control is this small maintenance hanger, and we have to move out as more companies are coming aboard behind us. We are mobilizing under urban attack plan Dorn. Lieutenant Trimmons, your heavy platoon had lead. Mahan, you guys are in support, followed by 2nd, 4th, 5th, and 6th platoons. We go in one minute." The Captain stepped away from the front of the company and rejoined the headquarters unit.

Trimmons platoon took lead, which was unusual as they were the most heavily armed platoon, but they did have the Crowd Control Troopers so SF-4738 figured the Captain wanted them to get into the fray early. Two engineers helped the Dungeoneers take down the barricade. As soon as it was down a bit, trash and debris started being flung over the top edge of the obstacle. A Dungeoneer stepped forward and flung a glop grenade over the top and the commotion on the other side died down. A loud bang and a thud later and the barricaded door slammed to the ground.

The whole platoon surged forward with SF-4738 in the lead. He almost had to grab the Loot by the collar as he didn't quite keep up with the rest of the men, but HF-3105 and JN-6166 were keeping pace with the young officer. SF-4738 brought his focus to the front of the formation and tried not to trip over any of the prisoners who were stuck to the floor from the exploding glop grenade. The trooper's glow rods and a portable glow lamps held by some of the men were the only illumination they had, and it gave SF-4738 the impression that they were charging down a rancor's throat. A Crowd Control

Trooper grabbed a human prisoner by the neck with his gripping claw while a shocktrooper nailed the prisoner with a force pike as they pressed on. The unlucky prisoner flopped to the ground, while an assault trooper slapped a pair of wristbinders on the human and kept going.

The principle of attack plan Dorn was a fast moving suicidal charge to seize the starship's access stairwells and turbolifts. Once you had control of those areas you could isolate the other decks while being able to freely move between them yourself. The whole company was now charging down the passageway as they steamrolled over any hapless prisoner that stood in their way. No quarter was given to any being who stood their ground. A Rodian swung a steel beam at the front of the column, but before he could make contact five troopers laid into the alien. The troopers were already moving past their fatal attack as the Rodian's brains spilled out onto the deck.

A Gamorrean burst out of a side hallway and smashed the trooper in front of SF-4738 into a nearby wall. Before the trooper could even fight back or the Gamorrean knew what hit him, SF-4738 slammed the point of his vibroblade into the Gamorrean's brain stem up to its hilt. SF-4738 slowed enough to extract the blade and help the fallen trooper regain his feet before he was on the run again with the rest of the column.

His HUD showed him the blueprints of the ship and he was relieved to see the company was on the right path. Ahead of him in the column two Sullustans suddenly dropped from the ceiling panels directly on top of the Loot. JN-6166 dropped one of the aliens with his baton, while the Lieutenant gut stabbed the other with his vibroblade. HF-3105 kicked the wounded alien to the side of the hall before decapitating him with his shield. Mahan stood to his feet again, but this time it was as if his entire uniform had been dyed red after he had become soaked in the Sullustan's blood. SF-4738 snapped at them to keep moving as the four of them were already falling from their positions at the head of their platoon.

The hallway was slick with blood, guts, and ice which caused several stormtroopers to slip and fall. Their buddies did the best they could to get their friends to their feet again as the column burst into the main access area of the starship. A Falleen was gutted by a stormtrooper at the front of the column before he could release his pheromones, and SF-4738 noted all of the Black Sun tattoos on the alien as he went through his death throes. A pair of Whipids was all that stood in front of the column as they reached the open turbolift shaft and the stairwells. The inertia of the charge pushed one of the Whipids down the shaft where he screamed all the way to his death fourteen decks below. SF-4738 bayoneted the other Whiped in the thigh while a dozen other troopers inflicted fatal injuries on the alien long after he was dead. No quarter was asked, and none was given.

Several stormtroopers with the Headquarters platoon and the Captain stopped to secure the target. Shocktroopers dropped Merr-sonn thermal detonators down the shaft and explosion rattled upwards a few seconds later.
"3rd Platoon, on me!" SF-4738 screamed as he led the charge upwards. He deliberately chose the tougher direction as the seized the stairwells. For what seemed like a lifetime he pushed, shoved and slashed his way upwards. An unending mass of aliens and humans kept falling on him and his men as they climbed higher. He caught bits and pieces of communications as he fought and somewhere in the back of his mind he understood that the deck they had been on had been secured by the follow up company, and that medics were hauling his wounded troopers back to the airlock for MedEvac. He lost his vibroblade when it got stuck in a human prisoner's hip, but pressed on with only his vibrobayonet.

Suddenly they burst upon the bridge level, and were jumped by a bunch of angry looking Trandoshans. SF-4738 felt one of them try to bite through his face plate on his helmet, but shoved the lizard back far enough to swing his rifle down on its head, before he realized it, he had pierced the lizard over a dozen times with his vibrobayonet. The Trandoshan didn't get up again. The charge swept over the bridge and every alien was either killed or subdued within a few blood-spilling moments. The Sergeant looked at the troopers around him and grinned with a pride he had never known. Each man had given his all, and it showed as each of them was covered in the blood and tissues of the smashed prisoners. Mahan took off his helmet and threw up adding to the carnage on the deck. He stood back up and grinned at SF-4738.

"Good work, Loot. Boys, you did a fraking astral job. Keep securing the access doorways." He turned on his comlink and spoke across the battalion net. "Upper stairwell and bridge secured." A minute later another sergeant announced the bottom stairwell was also secured.

"I guess we won, Sarge. The race, I mean." HF-3105 said with a gasping voice, as he fought to catch his breath.

"Son, any battle you walk away from, in the end, is a victory in my book."
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A.T.A., Hat Creek Radio Observatory, Undiscovered Planet, Unknown Space
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"Seriously Ted, how can the NSA just snap their fingers and we have to realign 350 antennas at the drop of a hat?" Marshall asked.

"I think it's because they can lock us up in one of those secret prisons they have." Ted responded as he finished entering coordinates into his laptop.

"Dude, you've been spending way too much time on the interwebs. You buy into every wild conspiracy theory out there.

Why would the NSA have secret prisons when they have a ton of non-secret prisons scattered all over the Union." Marshall looked out the window at the nearest hill and imagined the hundreds of radio antennae scattered over its face were slowly turning to face their new targets.

"It's better than spending every waking moment watching that sci-fi space show from the last century that you fantasize about all the time. The only thing I'm really worrying about the NSA, is why they have us looking at something in our own system."

"Maybe it's like a giant asteroid, like in that old movie." Marshall suggested. "We'll need to get those elderly actors together again to go and blow it up."

"I'd pay to see that. Ok, the first images are coming through."

The two astronomers paused a minute to analyze the images. "It's just a bunch of asteroids way out there. It doesn't even seem like they're getting any closer either, or the radio spectrum would show the distance as decreasing."

"That's all fine and dandy, but what I want to know is why a bunch of asteroids are broadcasting radio signals that are far more advanced than anything I've ever seen."

"Holy cow, you're right. What does the Jet Propulsion Laboratory have in the area?" Ted asked.

"Just the Hera satellite, as far as I know, unless the NSA has some kind of super secret spybird way out there."

"Here's another conspiracy for you to figure out."

"We are not alone?"

"Yep."

Yard 4, Imperial Container Ship Chain, unknown space

Ashla ran her hand along the wall and shivered as she felt the icy build up that covered every centimeter of exposed metal. She was now completely wrapped in heavy winter gear. She had been able to find some her size from a Dantooine trader who had been most eager to barter for the uniforms she had stolen from the ship's guard force a week before. The trader had promised her the cold weather survival gear was the same stuff that the CloneTroopers supposedly wore during the siege of Mygeeto during the War. She didn't know if that was true or not, but she did know she was a lot warmer than most of the slaves in the hold. She had also found an oversized Twilek stocking cap to wrap her montrals in, and with a few sewing modifications, it kept her head appendages quite toasty.

She pulled aside the plastoid blocking her entrance and sat at the edge of her shelter with her legs dangling off the side. Gravity hadn't returned in any high amount, in fact if you released an object at shoulder height it would take a good five minutes before the object hit the deck. If you were eating with a fork you had to be careful your food didn't float away before it hit your mouth, and you could forget about anything that needed a spoon. She'd heard a rumor from another slave that the gravity wasn't really back on, but they were instead in orbit around some large class of planet and they were feeling micro-gravity from it instead. Ashla really didn't know enough about astrophysics to form an opinion either way.
None of the regular yard glow lamps had ever came back on, but there were a few portable spotlights strapped to the guard walkways high above. They bathed the container canyons below in an eerie blue light, and it didn't help that ice covered everything. The only power that the guards had turned on were air circulators because of the fires that the slaves had lit after the returning gravity had given them some sort of control over the flames. There was a strong smoky smell in the air none-the-less. Ashla ripped open one of her MPETs and started its chemical cooker. She bundled her hands around the device to milk whatever warmth they could find out of it. She hoped the smell from her cooking didn't travel too far, as her shelter was still unnoticed as far as she was aware of. It appeared as a thousand other little crevices and shelters did around the yard. The only issue she had besides the heat in the place, was that her datapad and power cell for her lightsaber were still dead, but that seemed to have been the case for every electrical device the slaves had squirreled away.

High above her were heavily clothed guards moving in teams with charged force pikes. They seemed to be extra cautious in this yard after one of their squads had been decimated in the darkness after the power outage. Ashla smiled proudly and wondered if it was proper Jedi like behavior or not. She chose not to think about that aspect of it too closely. Instead, she wondered how they had gotten charged force pikes and batons once again, and why they weren't carrying blasters instead. Whenever she had snuck up to the upper most containers to listen to the uniformed troops on their patrols she heard rumors of a power cable and the possibility of a working Gonk droid somewhere onboard. It wasn't fair that none of that power was making its way down to the slave yards.

The Togruta retreated back into her shelter with her belly full, and slid along until her back was against the far wall. She stretched out and kicked the door shut. After a few seconds of letting her eyes adjust to the dark she reached into her pack and pulled out a green glow rod. She loudly snapped it and watched as her room and white winter gear turned to a multitude of green hues. It would have been perfect camouflage for Master Yoda she thought with a laugh.

Her thoughts of her former life at the Jedi Temple reminded her that it was time once again to meditate on the Force. She crossed her legs over each other and rested her forearms upon them. She slowly closed her eyes and then looked deep inside of herself for the Light Side of the Force to come forth. She felt no resistance in the feeling, but instead felt the mystical power rush to her as if she were a sponge in a crystalline lake high in the desert. She boldly reached out and felt the life forces of the slaves below in their canyons and felt the duty bound feelings of guards and sailors aboard the starship. She looked for the rest of her old pack amongst the giant yards and discovered that a few had become one with the Force since last she had felt them. She pushed aside the feelings of sorrow she felt at the loss of nearby friends.
She didn't feel the presence of any other Force adepts aboard her starship and believed she was safe in her meditation if she dropped her guard a little more. For the first time in half a decade she felt completely relaxed as she immersed herself in the ancient Force. She hadn't felt this good since she was a youngling back at the temple. Suddenly the thought of her attack on the guards came flowing through her and she knew without a doubt that the unprovoked assault hadn't been the way of the Light Side. She suddenly felt the presence of shame regarding her actions and slowly paused to push those feelings aside.

She remembered an instance when she was a youngling and focused on the lesson she had learned that day. She had been six years old and her group of younglings, the Bear Clan, was ending a telekinesis session with Master Ki-adi-Mundi when she had spotted the great Togruta Master, Shaak Ti, walking the halls of the Jedi Temple with Master Yoda. She had immediately rushed over to her fellow pack member. When the Master had seen her approach they had embraced in a powerful hug which was the traditional greeting of all Togruta when meeting a pack mate. Yoda had excused himself and Shaak Ti had asked Ashla Ti to walk with her to the temple gardens. Ashla remembered how excited she was to be explaining all of the training she was going through as a youngling to such an esteemed Master.

Another class of older younglings, the Rontos she recalled, was practicing their force battle mind techniques in the garden that day under the watchful gaze of Master Depa Billaba. Ashla had spotted another Togruta in the class, but this one was a member of the Tano pack of Shili. Ashla had immediately assumed a fighting stance and bared her fangs at her potential adversary. The older student noticed the young Ti and pounced in her direction. Neither of the potential combatants ever made contact as Ashla suddenly felt the Force pulling her away from the Tano who was now suspended in mid leap herself.
Ashla turned and saw Shaak Ti with an extended arm using the Force to restrain the youngling Jedi. Master Billaba was doing the same for the revolting Tano as well. Shaak Ti took both Togruta by the rear montral and excused herself from the garden with both rambunctious younglings in tow. Master Billaba resumed her lesson with the rest of the Rontos as they left the area. Master Ti walked far enough until the three of them were alone and couldn't be overheard.

"I don't want to hear any excuses for what just happened back there." She scolded the two younglings, who even though they were subdued were glaring at each other out of the corners of their eyes. "Knock it off you two. I know that on Shili, packs will fight and war whenever they come in contact with another pack as a means to secure food and hunting grounds, but that is not the way of the Jedi. It is the divine will of the Force that I witnessed your little altercation before it escalated to something more severe. I alone amongst the Jedi Masters understand what it is to be a child of Shili just as you two are. You cannot simply attack another being based on what they are or what they do. Fighting should always be the last resort not the first. Do you understand?" The two young girls nodded slowly. Ashla wasn't sure she had meant to fight, but was just reacting to a natural impulse to attack the Tano.

"Ahsoka, I have had this problem with you, when you first arrived here with Master Koon from Shili, but we have become great friends despite our packs being different. I hope you and young Ashla can do the same. You two might find you have more to embrace over than battle over. Ashla, I want you to always love the differences that make every being unique and always look for the good in every being you come across."

"Yes, Master." Both girls echoed each other. Master Ti made both girls embrace in the traditional greeting of pack mates and Ashla found that she hadn't been as revolted as she thought she should be while it was happening. She ran into Ahsoka several times over the years before the Clone Wars and had become friends over time. Ahsoka had been one of the first younglings to be assigned to a Jedi Knight after the horrible slaughter of Geonosis, and Ashla had lost track of her after that. The Clone Wars were such an intense period as the Bear Clan's training became condensed to prepare them for their lives as padawans. After Order 66 she went on the run for so long that she never did learn what had happened to either Ahsoka or Master Ti. She hoped they were still safe and on the Light Side of the Force.

She lifted herself up to her feet when she came out of her meditation. Ashla reached out with the Force and opened the flap of her pack. She guided the pieces of her defunct lightsaber out into the open. With a flip of her wrist the objects started to whirl around as if they were caught in a cyclone. She concentrated and saw through the Force the proper place for each piece within the larger weapon handle. Within a few second, Ashla reached out and grabbed the fully assembled and spinning lightsaber. She hadn't felt the Force this strongly since before her time on the run. She stuffed the Jedi weapon back down the side of her boot to conceal it.

Ashla left her shelter once more and stood at the edge looking over the canyon below. Several fires far below were being huddled around by freezing prisoners while at the same time casting dancing shadows along the walls of the canyon. With a small gesture Ashla looked over her shoulder and telekinetically covered the lit glow rod with a blanket to conceal the light from escaping her shelter.

She jumped down a few levels. Each time her fall would happen slowly as it took the low gravity onboard the ship a moment to pull her mass towards the deck below. It was actually fun, Ashla told herself, once you got used to, and it made climbing back up again much easier.

She patrolled the yard looking for good barters. The Toydarian water dealer was now an ice dealer which amused her how the male could change a disaster into an opportunity. Besides the odd Black Sun member or rough looking thug in the dimly lit alleys Ashla was feeling safer than she had in years. She figured she was the only Force adept anywhere onboard or aboard whatever starships surrounding the Chain.. She suddenly had a theory she wanted to test out.

Somebody had mentioned that their particular starship was located somewhere in the middle of a vast armada. If that was true the Emperor probably had a Dark Side Adept or two on at least one of the ships of the Fleet. She was feeling a little confident that she could sense them before they found out about her. She found a quiet nook and reached out again.
The Force filled her completely again as it reached across the space around her. She felt the life forces of millions of beings on board a thousand starships that stood in formation around her. She felt almost a universal sense of stress and fear at an unknown impending doom amongst the crews of the fleet. Some sort of great saving plan was starting to have effect, and the promise of fuel and power came with a feeling of optimism that was just starting to grow in the upper echelons of the armada.

One thing she couldn't discern was the presence of neither the Dark Side anywhere within the Fleet, nor the Light Side when she thought of it. She felt brave enough to try to reach out throughout the entire system. Ashla had never tried anything this big before, but felt the Force swell from her like a tidal wave. Suddenly it all came rushing back to her.
The Force was out there, but it was a strange version of it. Somewhere in this system the Force existed, but it felt like

something was choking the life out of it.
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Hale Telescope, Palomar Observatory, Undiscovered Planet, Unknown Space
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The service technician was busy sweeping around the floor of the giant mechanical housing of the scope, when the motors and servos started up. The roof above the man parted to allow the almost one hundred year old telescope access to the sky.

The man had worked here for almost ten years and was used to commands coming from all over the world ordering the observatory into action to look at this nebula or that quasar. He barely even noticed whenever it came to life anymore as he started emptying the trash cans that had been filled during the day by visitors and tourists.
When he returned from the bin outside he glanced at one of the computer stations being manned by the astronomer on duty. The other man was busy watching a reality show on the television.

"What's that the telescope is checking out?" The janitor asked.

The astronomer barely glanced from his show, when he answered over his shoulder, "I don't know, somebody from D.C. sent a request for the scope to be turned on. I haven't checked it out yet."

The janitor looked closer at the image on the monitor. "What are all of those diamond shaped things? It looks like they're in some kind of formation, like the kind we used to do when I was in the Navy"

"Huh?"
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Signal Interception Station, Imperial II-class SD Quill, unknown space

"So it's pretty low grade stuff?" Lieutenant Knebler asked.

"That's my understanding of it, not completely flarg, but it should be enough to work our reactors for awhile until we're loaded up with something of a higher grade." Commander Yutu sat in the middle of the Signal Interception station. Twenty minutes ago this area had been a dark cave, but he had finally been given authorization from the Fleet Admiral himself to power up and the whole suite was slowly coming back to life.

It helped that the refining starship the Carbon was now stationed off of the Quill's starboard side and was steadily giving the flagship the minimum amount of fuel she needed to finally power herself. Yutu had taken a look at the fueling vessel an hour ago and had been impressed with what he had seen. The Carbon was covered in the most state of the art distillation and purification equipment that served the Imperial Navy. Several tenders and smaller fuel carriers lined her bow section, and Yutu had actually noticed reactivated droids working some of the larger machinery that covered her hull. The Carbon still towed the large chunk of asteroid that had been retrieved by the Pulley a few days before, but it was now on a much smaller scale after the Carbon started grinding it up. It still worried him to have such a large asteroid in close proximity to the Quill, but he had been overruled when he had voiced his objections. A CT-11 space tug was on station nearby in case something went terribly wrong.

Yutu rushed back to his station when Commander Charge had announced over the ship's address system that they were firing up the main engine reactor. That had been almost three hours ago, as they waited for a big enough charge to be built up to restart most of the ship. Once a comlink message from his fellow commander in engineering came through, telling him to go ahead, Yutu ordered his sailors into action.

Hyperwave Signal Interception was the first system to come online. Yutu watched as the subspace radar reported the absence of any other craft in the local system making hyperspace jumps. He was a little concerned when the sensors didn't also discern the presence of the HoloNet or hyperwave radio as those usually filled the HSI with a rush of signal intercepts. They also could have been used to triangulate the position the Fleet found itself in if they located any hyperspace beacons.
Next to come alive were the Full-spectrum receivers which Yutu had half expected to be the first sensor on line. He searched their monitors and saw a wide variety of information coming in, from power levels on starships around the Quill to the location of other asteroids in the area. Two CT-11s made their way back and forth from the Fleet to the local belt as he watched them on the screen.

"Commander, the electrophoto receivers are coming on line." An engineer reported from across the suite. Yutu watched as a small hologram projector shot up and faded to a view of the Fleet and the local planet.

"Notify Gunnery that they can start using those to test target their weapons. Even if they don't have any blaster gas the Admiral's going to want them in good working order." The commander ordered.

"Sir, you might want to come over and look at this." Second Lieutenant Murp suggested from the front of the room near the Dedicated Energy Receptors and Aural Sensor station. He stood over two sailors that had hydrophone listening earpieces over their heads. Yutu walked over to the men.

"Put it up, Chief." Murp ordered one of the sailors, and the technician leaned forward to activate a switch on his panel. Suddenly the suite was filled with the din of a thousand voices at once. It sounded like a dull roar, but in the middle of every few screeches and howls was a snippet or two of basic.

"Where is that coming from, Lieutenant?" Yutu asked

"It's not nearby, whatever it is." The junior officer responded.

"Sir," one of the technicians spoke up. "It seems to be the same wavelengths and power levels as that probe we captured the other day. It just seems to have weakened as it traveled a bit through space."

"Commander, the signals are originating from deeper in the local system." The other technician added.

"I agree, sir. The computer is suggesting that we are receiving almost forty thousand audio and visual signals." The two technicians were now scrambling with the controls to isolate the signals from each other.

"Are they aimed at the Fleet?" Yutu asked. "Is someone out there trying to jam our own signals?"

"I don't think so, sir, they seemed to be too broadly spread out." Lieutenant Murp reported. Lieutenant Knebel came over to the weigh in.

"Sir, the Fleet's own hyperwave radio seems to be drowning these signals out. Even our small comlinks and comsets aren't picking these up, perhaps they are on such a low wave length that they're just not noticeable to our gear." The other officer suggested.

"It's a good thing our more powerful sensors could pick up this noise. Does anyone know if whoever sent this can pick up our hyperwave transmissions?" Yutu pondered aloud.

One of the sailors spoke first. "I'd say they've noticed us by now, sir. Our gear is probably drowning out everything they've got. Wherever they are they're probably undergoing some major communication failure issues right about now."

The technicians from the other stations turned their heads to listen to the strange noises while others removed their earpieces and ignored their own sensors. Except for the primitive signals the sensor suite was as quiet as a tomb for a few short minutes.

"I think I can make out some of the same binary code that was being used by that alien probe droid we captured." Lieutenant Knebel observed.

"Lieutenant Murp, contact the Admiral. Tell him we are engaging a fleet wide communications blackout starting immediately. I'll have the protocols for him momentarily." Yutu ordered. The junior officer rushed out of the station. Yutu worked out what had to be done quickly in his mind. All shipboard commo was fine as long as they used shortwave comlinks that had frequency hopping scramblers on them. Every officer and most of the NCO's had been issued that type of equipment. The comset usage would have to end, unless they were following the same regulations. Ship to ship commo could only be undertaken with encrypted laser communication and extremely short wave hyperwave radio with every type of security device imaginable attached to it.

"Is the computer recognizing any of it?" Knebler asked the technicians.

"It isn't any known Imperial signal, nor is it on a range used by any known system, sir." One of them responded.

"It's an extremely high amount though, sir." The other tech added. "It's like we where sitting in orbit around Imperial Center and the entire Senate is trying to call home at once."

"It's too bad we don't have any protocol droids charged up. They could make sense of this junk in no time." Knebler stated.

"The computer core can discern a lot of it. It should have a rendering here shortly." The aural sensor tech said. "The visual signals we are intercepting are all 2d, sir."

"That's odd. Who honestly uses 2d anymore?" Yutu asked

"No one I know of. I'd go crazy without my imagecaster." Knebler answered.

A technician from Electro Signal Triangulation spoke up. "Commander, we're getting a location on the signals. They seem to be originating from a position one five five million kilometers from the local star. Could be a possible planet there?"
"Sir, we are picking up the presence of gravity wells in that direction as well as three others from within the inner part of this system." A crewman manning one of the full-spectrum receivers reported.

"At least four more planets, besides the four we've already discovered? That should help navigation figure out where we are. Alright, button up, boys." Yutu started moving around the suite again. The holovids and holoprojectors were slowly coming to full power around the station. "I want Tarkin's Fist on commo lock down. All signals interception and intelligence is going to come through this office, no matter what the other Moffs have to say about it, and that comes directly from the top."

"Now as for this newly discovered planet or spacestation. I am of the belief that this is the source of the captured probe that we discovered a few days ago. Since they are evidently ahead of us in the intelligence game I want to know everything we can about them. The next commo leak this Fleet has I want to know about it immediately. Heads will roll if we don't keep a lid on this. Now call in all the help you need, I want all shifts working on this around the clock. Get to it, sailors." Yutu dismissed the technicians to their stations and there was a flurry of activity as men rushed to fulfill his commands. Within the hour he would know everything about this mystery planet or he would know why not.

"Lieutenant Knebler come over here." The junior officer approached him and Yutu leaned in close to talk in hushed tones to the man. "Please inform the Fleet Admiral that we are no longer alone."

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Oval Office, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Recently Discovered Planet, Unknown Space
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The President hated these types of meetings. Anything that involved the National Science Advisor usually went over his head, and he wasn't sure there was anything to this whole global warming subject he was always preaching about. Besides his predecessors had done enough to hopefully turn the tide, and he'd rather think of pandering to the energy corporations instead of trying to fight them. There was a lot more money in it for his supporters that way.

The door swung open and was held in place by a Secret Service agent as the National Science Advisor entered followed by the Director of the NASA, as well as the General in charge of the NSA. The President raised an eyebrow as he had never seen these three men in each other's company before.

"You have twenty minutes, Gentlemen." The President informed them.

'No, Mr. President, we are going to need you to clear your schedule for the rest of the afternoon." The general retorted.

"Excuse me? Where do you think . . ." The Army officer threw a file onto the desk. It spilled its contents out across the piece of furniture. The President's eyes got bigger as he quickly scanned the pictures that had slid out with the thick stack of documents.

The NASA Director spoke first. "Mr. President, we are no longer alone."
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Alpha Hanger, Imperial II-class SD Quill, Unknown Space

"She certainly is a work of beauty, my Lord." Fleet Admiral Yos remarked as he received the visiting Moff. He technically was Kuat's superior, but old habits died hard in the Empire where a Moff was something to fear.
Kuantus slowly descended the landing ramp of the sleek craft. He avoided eye contact with the Fleet Admiral for a moment, instead he admired the layout and design of the TIE racks above him as his two aides followed him in his descent. The mechanical launchers weren't a design of KDY, but had instead had come from the drafting boards of his rivals at Sienar Fleet Systems. If he hadn't recruited and stolen their best engineers before their grand adventure for his own use, he would have been truly envious.

He smiled when he noticed that the reception was lacking any type of formality. He had only notified the Quill five minutes ago of his departure from the Kuat's Might in the hope that he would be able to catch the new Fleet Admiral off guard. A few flight deck crewmen were all the honor guard he was to receive, and if he didn't know better he could have sworn the Fleet Admiral was breathing heavily from what no doubt had been a stressful rush from the ship's command bridge. He saluted Fleet Admiral Yos in the Kuati style when he reached the bottom of the ramp. The officer waved him off as it was unseemly for a Moff to salute a military officer, despite the chain of command Grand Moff Tarkin had set in place when he had ordered his secret fleet into the maw.

"If I had to guess, that's a Punworcca 116." The Admiral seemed rightfully in awe of the craft. "You know, we had standard blast to kill orders if we ever came across one of these during the War. It was believed that Count Dooku was traveling about the Outer Rim in one of these."

"I heard that rumor as well. This is not the same one I hope. KDY was fortunate enough to secure two of the vessels shortly after the cessation of hostilities." Kuat explained as the two of them took a moment to walk around the craft. He was extremely proud of his possession and couldn't refuse to indulge the other man's envy.

"Do you have both with you, or did you leave one in the care of your son, the current Kuat of Kuat."

"Oh, I have both in my possession. This is the only one in working condition as I have engineers and ship designers going over every millimeter of the other craft. We still don't know a whole lot about their propulsion systems."

"I'm sure the Geonosians aren't telling much these days."

"No, not after their decimation during the war, it's pretty hard to come across one of the bugs these days. Do you know of any within Tarkin's Fist?" Kuat asked. Niobe and Gage took their place alongside the starship's pilot who was present outside of the craft as well.

"None that I know of. I heard scuttlebutt that there were still a few working for Tarkin, but he must have kept those to himself. We sure could have used this vessel over the past week. As you can imagine we've had a hell of a time getting any sort of starship underway."

"I believe you, however, it took quite a bit of effort to retrieve this craft as it was packed away on another starship within my squadron."

"No matter, in another week we will have all sorts of small craft available and fully powered except of course, for their weapon systems." Yos explained with pride. "You know it was my daughter who came up with the plan to repower the capitol warships in Tarkin's Fist."

"I had heard that it was so. It was surely a stroke of genius. Though I must say, it's an odd sight to see all of those fighters dangling from beneath our ships these days." Kuat remarked. He meant every word. When the plan had been transmitted to their Squadron, Admiral Hadrian had thought it was suicidal for any pilot to try it. Kuat had seen the simple brilliance of the plan and had ordered its implementation at once. It had allowed for all sorts of research to resume aboard his starships. In a way, the works of the daughter had allowed for him to start forgiving the sins of the father.

Yos seemed to be reading his mind. "I hear you've restored some of your research." The Admiral gestured towards the hanger's airlock, evidently he was finished with his inspection of the craft. "Have you come up with any solutions to our Fleet's current fuel shortages?"

"The next being who comes up with an alternative means of sublight drive propulsion that doesn't require a fuel source will be even wealthier than I am. I feel we are still decades away from that point, but not to worry, we do have several of the top minds on the subject within the ranks of my researchers."

"That is splendid," both men started walking out of the hanger with their aides following in their wakes. "My best officers are estimating two years before we can set up a refining program for hypermatter."

"My experts on the subject are telling me the same." Kuat believed in coming to the meeting prepared. He knew what areas would be on the Fleet Admiral's mind. "The problem lies in the fact that we simply do not have the space or room to erect a large scale fuel distillation program along with hypermatter production. Perhaps if we landed on one of the moons of the nearby gas giant we would be able to set up a much larger operation."

"That is a question I would like to propose to Moff Culter." Yos suggested.

"Yes, what a stroke of luck that we have one of the preeminent terra formers the Galaxy has ever known, and he commands a fourth of your Fleet." Kuat mused. He really never found the other Moff much of a threat, but actually more of a respected colleague. If he hadn't been an Imperial Governor already Kuat was sure he would have recruited the man to come along with them anyways. Besides, from what he had heard of Culter's military abilities, he knew the man would never be a respectable rival.

The entourage stepped aboard the turbolift and immediately were propelled upwards almost fifty decks until they reached the Flag Bridge. When they stepped inside several other high ranking officers were also present. Yos made introductions of several of the officers before Kuat introduced his two aides. They all sat at a silver circular table while HoloVid images of Moff Seco and Moff Culter joined them. Kuat pictured them sitting at similar tables aboard their own flagships surrounded by nothing but their aides and holograms.

"Gentlemen, I would like to start out the meeting with briefings from my officers. This is the way I see every weekly meeting as taking place. Are there any objections?" Kuat was actually interested in what the naval officers had to report, and so didn't raise any objections.

The supply officer went first, and was joined by a Commander Charge from engineering. They reported that while almost every supply was still in the abundance they had when they had made the "big jump', fuel and blaster gas were completely non-existent throughout the entire Fleet. The Commander also reported on the conditions of the reactors and sublight and hyperdrive engines which seemed as pristine as the day they rolled out of the KDY driveyards. He also requested that a team from KDY inspect every starship. Kuat understood how useful and dependent he had become, and instantly granted the request.

The Fleet Operations officer, a Commander Dual, was next and reported on the activities of the Fleet's four CT-11 space tugs as well as the efforts of the refining starship the Carbon. Admiral Yos gave a special thanks to Moff Culter for the use of that vessel. When the operations officer laid out the plan for refueling the Fleet Kuat raised his first objection of the meeting.

"Why is it that the warships are the first to receive fuel from the Carbon? Moff Culter and I both have orbital laboratories and factory ships that would greatly benefit the Fleet if they were fueled up first." Kuat reminded the group. "The whole point of us entering the maw was to develop technologies that would enable us to protect the Death Star and start a new science based utopia for the Grand Moff."

"And what is if we can't defend that utopia. We need those warships online as soon as possible. Moff Culter what are your estimates for getting this Fleet underway?"

Moff Culter's image shuddered for a minute. "I believe it will be six months before the attack squadrons are completely fueled at our current rate, if we don't make planetfall somewhere soon. The rest of the Fleet will have their sublight engines in operation within one standard year. I suggest we move closer to the asteroid belt to save time on ore mining from the asteroids there."

"I agree, once sufficient fuel is found we should move Tarkin's Fist there. Within the next week I'm ordering the space tugs to start hauling some of the Fleet out that ways starting with Moff Culter's squadron, since they are the closest to entering a decaying orbit with the nearby gas giant." Yos threw in. Kuat realized he wasn't going to win this argument right away, but also knew it was up to him to disperse the fuel as it was delivered to the Kuati Third Fleet. Science would not be stopped he told himself.

Yos signaled for the FleetOp officer to continue. He went on to describe how each warship would do a short shakedown cruise once it was refueled, starting with the Quill, which should be refueled sometime in the next two days. The man told of the operations against the Lictor-class Dungeon ship the Abandoned Hope, and Kuat smiled when he noticed Moff Seco squirm in embarrassment from losing control of one of his own starships. Evidently thirty seven stormtroopers had been killed in the retaking of the vessel, and only two thousand of an original count of nine thousand prisoners had been recaptured. Most of the sporadic fighting by the rest of the slaves amongst thetransports of the Fleet had been quelled days ago.

The last officer was the chief intelligence officer for Tarkin's Fist whose name Kuat recalled was Commander Yutu. Yutu started his briefing by stating that an immediate communications blackout was again in effect. All comsets were to cease being used for ship to ship communication and only very localized signals were to be sent. He went into the details of the probe droid that had been recently captured. It was of an archaic type that wasn't even aimed at the Fleet, but was instead doing reconnaissance on the gas giant. Kuat thought this was strange from a military viewpoint, because he couldn't figure out how an enemy could ever put forces on the surface of a gas giant unless there was some sort of upper atmospheric base that had so far remained undetected. The device had also sent signals to the inner system. The officer went on to explain how all signal intercept stations in the Fleet were now connected to the SigInt suite aboard the Quill. Then Yutu dropped the bomb.

"We are not in the maw." The young officer reported. He gave a rundown of the low grade and unsophisticated signals that they had been receiving since this morning. The surprise on everybody's face when the commander announced that some of the signals were in a language that was very similar to Galactic Standard Basic was pure classical theatre to the Kuati Moff.

"Where are these signals coming from?" Moff Seco's image inquired.

"We've located the source as being within the inner section of the inner system." He pushed a button and a holoprojection of the system came into life in the middle of the table. "We've also located three other gravity wells in the area. Moff Culter you may be interested in the second and fourth gravity wells." Yutu explained.

"Yes, I can see that they both fall within the habitable life biosphere. They could be excellent candidates for terra forming. Admiral Yos I request an immediate reconnaissance of the area." Culter seemed to be jumping for joy from his seat.

"It will still be some weeks before we can get a ship that close to launch recon TIEs, but I assure you it will be given top priority." Yos soothed the Moff. Culter's image picked up a datapad and started working out calculations of his own.

"Gentlemen, I have been away from the Signal's Intercept Station for the past forty minutes. A lot could have changed in that time. If you'll excuse me." Yutu asked, and Yos dismissed the man.

"What do you think?" the Fleet Admiral asked.

"It could just be a listening post for someone." Seco suggested. "A spy base perhaps, that sends out probes to check on its neighboring planets from time to time."

"It's sending a tremendous volume of signals for it to be a listening post. Everyone in the entire sector can hear it." Kuat responded.

"The third gravity well is where all the signals are coming from, correct?" Culter asked. "It could be another ecumenoplis like Coruscant, Nar Shaddaa, Anaxes, or even the Admiral's home world of Denon. In which case, we have to prepare ourselves for an influx of lifeforms."

"I agree with Culter's assessment. This volume of signal activity can only be the works of a society that has billions, perhaps trillions, of beings." Kuat added.

"The opportunity for conquest exists, if they truly are as primitive as we should assume they should be. That is, if they're sending this jawa-rigged gear out to us, what could they possibly have to defend themselves at home." Seco suggested.

"Gentlemen, our first order of business must be to bring our Fleet to operational levels. We are still a ways away from bringing ourselves onto the offensive. Besides our standing orders are to keep Tarkin's Fist at the ready, for the time when the Grand Moff calls for us." Yos stood up. He marched around the table to a spot where he could reach the holovid. "Now does anyone have any further suggestions for how we can go about gathering tibanna gas for our blasters and turbolasers again?"

Kuat and Cutler both raised their hands at once. The two men had been in contact with each other, and had been able to run a couple of ideas past their counterpart. Kuantus spoke for the both of them, as he knew it was his turn to save the Fleet.

"We do."

Mining Asteroid, Main Belt, Unknown Space

"These enviro-suits are starting to smell a bit ripe" Brakatak complained over his shortwave comlink. Even though he was in a hard vacuum the Gran moved his arm upwards to smell his armpits.

"Did it help?" Frip asked from nearby.

"In space no one can smell you stink." Keatly laughed over the comlink while she worked the sluice that she and her Firrerio cousin Ashlei were manning. The asteroid had lost most of its mass over the past three trips and no longer produced enough gravity for them to stand upon its surface. As a result every being was secured by several safety lines and a series of pitons hammered into the planetoid. The sluice's legs had been buried almost a meter deep to keep it from floating off.

Across the impact crater they were working in, almost a hundred slaves now toiled in their red enviro-suits. Brakatak had kept his small herd together for three trips to the asteroid over five days. He still used the same gasifier that he had utilized on their first trip, while his Ishi Tib friend sucked up all the molten ore he was creating with the carbonite nanofiber tube. The other end of which dumped out into the girl's sluice. Impurities in the ore were vaporized and vented off into space. Brakatak had noticed five other teams like theirs working amongst the slaves here. The remainder of the captives manned drills and picks while others moved pieces of asteroid many times their size to collection bins behind the nearest CT-11. It reminded Brakatak of a grub-ant hill back on Kinyen.

Brakatak wished they could have been back aboard the Manacle with his herd. Being away from his own kind was starting to drive him a little insane. His mind seemed to be running much faster than usual and he missed the general mellowness that flowed whenever he was part of the herd. Not that any of his new friends were all that bad. Frip seemed to be in the same boat as him and was missing his school, but was trying to make do with this new small family. The girls came from a race of humans that according to them was almost extinct. They seemed accustomed to not being around their own kind.
For some reason they had to attached themselves to the huge Gran and funny little Ishi Tib.

A blue suited geologist, that Brakatak had been informed came from a Kuati starship that had somehow become attached to an Imperial fleet, was making his way through the prisoners. He was being escorted by a stormtrooper who was wearing a tank for a suit. The slaves had gotten used to the SpaceTroopers over the past week. They loved to sneak up on the slaves in the odd total silence of space and make sure they were working full out. The SpaceTroopers made Brakatak almost jump out of his own enviro-suit a couple of times. The odd thing he had noticed about the troopers here as well as onboard the Star Destroyer he was bunking on, was the idea that they seemed to be treating alien slaves better than he had ever witnessed from the Imperial troops. They didn't seem to have their officers screaming about duty to the Emperor and looking down their noses at other species as he remembered in the slavepits of Desparye.

The geologist made a motion for Brakatak to kill the power on his gasifier. The Gran did so, and Frip and the girls moved forward with their safety lines to see what he was doing. Brakatak held up three fingers to let the geologist know what comm channel they were on. With a quick flip of a knob on his belt the man joined their little corner of space.
"Hello everybody, I'm Grif Towlin from the Corporate Sector School of Mines." The geologist introduced himself.

"What's a Corporate Sector black boot doing working for the Empire?" Brakatak regretted the words as they came out of his mouth. The big Zero-G trooper advanced on him, but the scientist waved him off.

"First off, I'm not sure if there's much of an empire out here," Brakatak pondered what the man meant by that, "Secondly,

Moff Kuat paid me and my family a tremendous amount to come along on this venture. Now what kind of ores are you beings coming across in this section of the asteroid?" Brakatak was still wandering what he meant by the word 'venture', when Frip spoke up.

"Kammris for most part, Doonium lots, Duralium some, and even we find big rare Chalon and Corintium everywhere. Find new things all the time." The Ishi Tib reported.

"That's what we've been discovering too. Rothana should park a couple of driveyards out here. They could build another sector fleet from all the material we've found." The geologist informed them. He picked up a small chunk of ore that Brakatak had been blasting when they approached. "Looks like Guerrerite. Some of this stuff is so rare it's only found in one or two places around the known Galaxy."

"The Fleet Admiral is going to be excited when we report how many precious metals we've been discovering, sir." The SpaceTrooper piped in. The geologist seemed to make a sour face from the other side of his helmet, evidently the man didn't have a high opinion of the military.

"Yes, I guess he will be." The geologist retorted. Brakatak saw the movement behind the men before they did. A giant derrick they had been using to drill for deeper ore was slowly tilting towards them. Warping durasteel cables were tugging the machine through the zero-G in their direction. Several distant slaves rushed out of its path. Brakatak was sure that if there was an atmosphere there also would have been a lot of screaming and the noise of metal bending and tearing. One of the red suited workers on the crashing derrick was whipped off into the void, well beyond the hope of rescue from the CT-11s above.

The Firrerreo girls tackled Frip and the three of them thudded to the ground. The geologist was just beginning to turn when Brakatak grabbed the front of his enviro-suit and dropped them both to the ground. He barely had time to sweep the legs out from the SpaceTrooper, but the derrick still had time to deliver a glancing blow to the armored trooper as he went down. The trooper flopped through the dust and dirt until he came to a stop several meters away. The derrick kept going on its sweeping path, colliding with other machinery and snagging the safety cables of dozens of workers who got yanked along in the silent crash. The drilling machine finally came to a rest along the rim of the crater.

Immediately there was a gasping and rush of air across their channel. Brakatak checked Frip and the girls, while patting the geologist down for any injuries. The man seemed to slowly be grasping what had just happened to them, but otherwise he seemed unhurt. Who else was on their channel Brakatak thought to himself. Suddenly the answer came to him, and he disconnected himself from his safety ropes before covering the distance to his target in a single bound.

He half landed on and half crashed into the giant white form. The SpaceTrooper seemed to be screaming in silence and was flailing about with wild abandon. He struck Brakatak several times as the Gran patted him down looking for the tear in the man's armor. From the trooper's left side he saw dust on the ground being blown away in some sort of small current. He flipped the trooper onto his right side and found a hand sized tear in the man's armor and self sealing body suit. Evidently the hole was too big for the suit to automatically fix itself. Brakatak acted quick and reached in the thigh pocket of his suit for his own emergency patch. He ripped it from its packing and slapped it on the hole, but it only covered half of the area that was needed. Another patch was suddenly handed to him and he looked up to see Frip offering his as well. They both nodded to each other in silent understanding. They were both good males and would do everything possible to save the life of one of their captors. Brakatak slapped the other patch on the trooper's tear.

The trooper's life support started to equalize the pressure in the suit once again, and the trooper stopped swinging his arms and legs about. The geologist ran up to the group with a pair of naval corpsmen who took over from Brakatak.

"What's your name again, Gran?" he asked.

"Brakatak, sir."

"Brakatak, you and your friends here just saved our lives. I'm going to make sure the powers that be hear about this. Maybe we can get you some better treatment and accommodations out here in the belt." The geologist promised him. The corpsmen lifted the wounded man to carry him away to a med station that had been set up on the asteroid. The geologist turned and followed, but Brakatak doubted he would ever really see the man again.

Along the crest of the crater other slaves and troopers worked to free the prisoners that had become entangled in the wreckage. "It odd sight, I seeing stormies and slaves side by side working." Frip observed.

"Yes, it is." Brakatak agreed.

"I've never seen them act that way." Keatly remarked. "Ashlei, come sit down. The guards are busy with that mess over there." She pointed to the debris, "Might as well slack off while we can get away with it."

"Thank you Girlie for Frip's life save." The Ishi Tib hugged Ashlei as she sat down next to him.

"No problem, Frip, we all know you would have done the same for us. We're your school now right." She giggled. Brakatak smiled as he felt himself accepting his new herd.

They rested in the distant sunlight, wondering what kind of job the Empire would have for them next. Brakatak broke into a long winded story about wanting to be a rancor wrangler when he was little. He had the group laughing in no time. As he wrapped up the story he noticed his fishy friend bopping his head as if he was listening to a tune.

"You tuned into the HoloNet there, Frip?" Brakatak asked.

"No know what it is. Start hearing it when we work before scientist come around."

"What channel?" Ashlei asked.

"Two five one one." Frip answered, which was mysterious in itself because nobody used comlink frequencies in that range. The three of them turned the dials on their commo and listened in.

The beat was certainly addictive; it contained drums and some kind of stringed instruments that seemed to be electrified somehow. The singer sounded like a young human female, but her language seemed to be barely basic, as it was more guttural and slurred."

"It say in ads in same odd non-basic basic that it be Radio Deutschland. What that be Brakatak?" Frip asked.

"I have no idea, Frip, but it's not bad. It sounds kind of like Glimmik or Heavy Isotope music. I wonder where it's coming from."

"The fleet, probably." Keatly suggested.

"Something tells me Deutschland isn't anywhere near the fleet." Brakatak wondered aloud as he sat back and stared at the billions of stars that shined above the small group that relaxed on the face of an asteroid.
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Heliocentric Orbit, Inner Solar System, Unknown Space
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The space telescope rapidly orbited the star sending mountains of information back to its home. A home it never planned to see again as its orbit would someday decay and plunge it into the star. A molten death it would experience several million miles before it ever closed with the boiling ball of fusion.

Its home was calling it now. They were giving it new orders. Asking it to ignore its mission and turn its telescopes and sensors on a new target. These orders were going out to over a dozen explorers just like the space telescope. All of them were being told to use their precious propellant and look at something else within this very system.

The small satellite obeyed because it was never programmed with the ability to disagree, no matter how improbable its orders seemed to be. With an outpouring of gases the small craft slowly spun around until its scopes were lined up with the new target. Even the billion amero Hubble II was turning its sensors towards the target from its orbit around home.

It took hours of images and sensor data of an area around the large fifth planet in the solar system and several areas in the mid-asteroid belt beyond the fourth planet. The CPU brain of the craft would have been impatient to turn back to its original position and continue with its primary mission if it knew how to be, but the orders never came.

Home wanted to know more.
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Imperial II-class SD Quill, in orbit around fifth planet of unknown system

None of the other officers got treated as badly as she did. That is what Second Lieutenant Phasma Yos had determined from the way her father had chewed her out a few days before. She felt she should have been awarded for taking the initiative in trying to return the Fleet to normal operating standards, and instead her father had suspended her from her normal duties, until further notice.

Who knew how long that would be? She had hardly seen her father, the Fleet Admiral, in the past few days since their argument. His duties had kept him on the bridge since then, and only the kitchen droid in their quarters had given her the message that her father would be away for most of the morning on an inspection tour of the Carbon refining vessel. Phasma was actually glad she was missing that tour, as it was probably as boring as it sounded.

She tried to keep her mind off of things by studying with her TTS-15 tutorial droid, but distractive thoughts kept tearing her away. She just couldn't focus on her lessons of Intermediate Huttese or Advanced Imperial Ethics any longer. She ordered the droid to power down, and for a second she felt sorry for it as it seemed to let out a sigh as the light left its photo-receptive eyes. This droid as well as the one in the kitchen had only been powered up the day before and were amongst the first on the Quill to be allowed to do so. Life was slowly returning to normal she thought, and even remembered somebody had announced that they were now completely back at 1g of gravity for the entire starship.

She flopped down on her sleeper and grabbed her datapad. She had several messages from her instructors over what type of homework and subjects she was supposed to have been studying, as well as a few remainders of upcoming training that was to resume soon. The officer in charge of training evidently wasn't informed of her suspension she figured. She wrote him a quick note letting him know of her status.

She was also informed of new funds in her bank account. While waiting for the 'big jump' around the Horuz system there had been strange orders for every officer and crewman to close their existing accounts in whatever bank they had, and open new ones in the Bank of Kuat. She remembered disliking the notion because it could possibly tip off someone to their plans, especially beings in the Intergalactic Banking Clan. When she had voiced her concerns to her father, he assured her that the sailors and troopers of the Fleet needed to get paid someway or they'd have a mutiny on their hands. What they were planning on spending their credits on inside the barren maw Phasma had no idea. She just figured when everyone left the maw after ten years they'd all be wealthy troops.

The new funds surprised her though, because as a cadet in the Navy she didn't receive any sort of monetary compensation, but as a newly minted Second Lieutenant she now had more credits than at any other time in her life. She had no way of knowing that her stipend wasn't that much, but to the ten year old girl, that she was, she felt as if she just won the Galactic Mega-Cred Lottery.

The one Tatooine sand fly in the ointment was she had no way of spending her well earned gains. With the HoloNet being down, and from what she had learned, downright undetectable to the warship's sensors, out here she had no way of accessing the billions of stores and shops that she wanted to spend her credits in. Sure the Quill had a ship's store, but all you could get there were new uniforms or toiletries since they weren't even getting the latest issues of all the HoloZines she liked to read either. There was the enlisted crew's club as well as the pilot's pub and the officer's club, but she was still a few years from finding any sort of enjoyment in one of those establishments. Even though she might try the pub eventually if a certain TIE pilot were to ever ask her to join him.

Eventually, she found that even the local HoloNet that normally would have been established in a fleet this size, especially with so many dependants onboard other starships, was also going to have to be blocked by the mandatory blackout her father's security troopers had enacted. All because some mysterious alien base was thought to be somewhere close by, and it wouldn't help their cause if you let them start reading the Tarkin's Fist's mail. She understood the security concerns, but that didn't mean they didn't annoy her.

Phasma sat up from her sleeper and sighed as she realized she needed to get out of her quarters or she was going to go a bit stir crazy. She reached for her boots and pulled them on. Standing up she grabbed her uniform tunic and checked herself in the mirror. Every hair seemed to be in place and her make-up was within uniform standards, so she grabbed her cap and fled the suite.

At first she thought about checking out her duty station in the operations shop of the Quill a few decks below her in the conning tower, but worried about the repercussions of her father finding out about her being there again. He had been so upset when she had been returned to the Quill from the Carbon along with the first shipment of fuel. She had never seen him so angry with her, but the strange thing was he never once raised his voice or yelled at her. Even though Phasma had known her father had been furious with her, the look on his face had been one of pure relief. The last thing he had told her, after suspending her, was a warning for her not to make him regret giving her two hard earned promotions.

She had only been trying to help, but had ended up scareing and disappointing her father. She vowed to herself that she wouldn't let him down again. The worst part of it was that she didn't even feel as if she had helped out Tarkin's Fist any. The most she had accomplished on her trip to the local asteroid belt was getting a nice nap out of the deal. It could have been her first command, but she had differed to a CPO for the entire journey.

She strolled from deck to deck instead, without a specific destination in mind. Eventually Phasma found herself down in the TIE/In Starfighter repair bays behind the Beta Hanger. Not a lot of activity was taking place down there since there hadn't been enough fuel for TIE flights since their arrival. A few mechanics were busy exchanging the two ion engines from a TIE/bc on one end of the bay while a few Naval Troopers stood guard over an area to the rear of the bay.

Her curiosity sparked, she made her way down to the far end of the bay. The Naval Troopers were armed with stun batons and saluted as she approached. She didn't even need to ask what they were guarding as the huge shape of the captured probe took form behind them. Another Second Lieutenant was busy tearing apart components from the primitive reconnaissance droid.

"Hello, Lieutenant . . ." she paused for effect, and waited for his name.

"Murp, I'm with SigInt." She realized when he didn't ask for her name that it was unnecessary considering who her father
was. The story of her ordering the TIE outside the Quill was making her something of a legend onboard.

"What does Commander Yutu have you doing with this droid?" She asked.

"We're taking it apart to see how it ticks. Plus we're really interested in what type of data it was collecting, Lieutenant Yos. You interested in lending a hand?" He asked in a friendly enough manner.

"Sure, I've been suspended from my regular duties so I was looking for something to keep me out of trouble." She agreed eagerly.

"Hand me that hydro-spanner over there," he indicated with his thumb. "Yeah, we heard about that up in SigInt. It's kind of a bummer for you, huh?"

"Yeah, this is a pretty big droid, I'm not even sure of what I did wrong." It was weird talking to someone of the same rank she thought. She was used to being a cadet and thus lower than the dirt on other officer's boots. It was strange to have an equal.

"Well you went AWOL, an officer of the Empire is never to leave their post unless properly relieved. You probably got lucky that your old man is the Fleet Admiral or you could have ended up losing some rank or worse, especially if we had some kriffing ISB scum aboard. Pardon my language, ma'am." Murp explained as he removed a cowling from one of the solar array supports.

"Worse?" She asked confused.

"Oh yeah, I got a cousin that serves onboard of the Devastator in Vader's fleet. If you mess up there the Dark Lord himself will come down and choke the snot out of you. A lot of good officer's careers and lives have been ended by that one."

"Yeah, I've seen HoloVids of the man, and I have to say he's a little spooky."

"It's all that Force business. Thank the Emperor we got rid of those nutty Jedi back at the end of the War."

"I guess." The Clone War was something that happened before her birth and held little interest for her. She decided to switch the subject. "So where do you think this droid came from?" she asked her peer.

"First of all, we don't think it's a droid anymore. You see it doesn't have any sort of AI or brain. It just responds from commands from somewhere else and reports on stimuli it receives. It has a pretty primitive CPU, but that's about it. Secondly we've got a good guess where it originated from, but nobody is ready to make a definitive call on that one until we do some proper recon." He didn't say a lot, but what he did say spoke volumes. An odd trait for someone in intelligence to have, she thought.

"So it's probably from that undiscovered gravity well, the one with all the strange signals coming from it, that everyone's talking about." She prodded.

"Could be. At this point it's really anybody's guess." He opened up the main torso of the machine and revealed a host of what appeared to be ancient forms of data collection devices. If Phasma had to guess this thing was from before Pre-Republic times. Murp noticed her look of confusion. "Yeah, this stuff is awfully rudimentary, most of its even digital if you can believe that?" She remembered the term from her lessons, evidently it had been some kind of electrical programming used way back during the days after the fall of the Rakatan Empire.

"So was it spying on us?"

"We thought so at first, but we have been able to read a lot of its programming. It seems it was on a long term mission to the gas planet for a period of what we believe was five years. After that it was supposed to explore another asteroid belt on the outer part of this solar system before journeying to explore another star system nearby."

"How? I don't see any sort of sublight or hyperspace technology. How was it going to get there?" She asked.

"The programming doesn't really tell us what its plan was, but we're actually starting to think that it was going to float out there under its own inertia once its limited fuel gave out. It amazed me when Commander Yutu had been informed of it. We figured the closest star to be more than a century of travel away under the means of travel this little probe had available. What kind of race would wait for an answer that long?"

"How were they going to get it anyways? The primitive radio on this thing would have sent a hyperwave signal that would have dispersed into static well before it reached back to this system." She was really confused by the probe. It was so utterly alien to her, that she decided it was one of the ugliest things she had come across in her short life.

"I agree, the design is incredibly flawed. It has an oversized radio beacon and solar arrays for collecting some small traces of solar energy while in deep space, but those would probably be torn off from micro-meteor strikes in the much denser asteroid belt on the outer portion of the system. If you really want to blow your mind, try figuring out how our fleet made it through that chaos without being smashed into a billion teeny tiny pieces." She actually hadn't thought of that. The computer core had reported traveling through the belt, which had allowed astronomers aboard the Fleet to discover it
when the power started flowing again.

"Murp, we really need to find out who sent this thing."

"Oh, we will. But will we do it before whoever else is in this system finds us, is anyone's guess."
----------------------------------------
Firing Range, Weapon Locker Grek, Acclamator II-class SD Fool, Unknown Space

CC-2224 lined up the target's torso perfectly in the weapon's sights. As he exhaled he held his breath as he had been trained to do and gently pushed the trigger stub. The Velocity-7 dart shooter had no recoil to speak of, as the Kamino Saberdart shot across the range. The only sound in the room was the impact of the projectile striking the plastoid stormtrooper armor he had hung over the target.

He reached over and pushed the target retrieval button and the target rushed towards him. The dart had sailed perfectly towards the target and struck the armor directly where an enemy's heart would have been. Much to Cody's disappointment was the fact that the dart was only embedded in the armor and had failed to fully pierce it at a range of fifteen meters.
Cody had never thought much of newer armor they had forced on the troops after the War. It pinched in the wrong places and the shin guards cut into the top of your foot. The things were more for show than function, and he'd hate to have to stop a blaster bolt with one of them. But the armor had surprised him when he started his little tests with the dart gun he had come across. The old clone armor would deflect the dart completely, but if the Fleet Admiral ordered him into battle he'd have to wear the newer gear. Hopefully they went into battle against an enemy that only had blow guns he mused.

"Su'cuy gar!" A voice greeted him from behind. Cody turned and recognized Bly entering the blasting pit next to his.

"Yes, I'm still alive vod. I've been down here most of the afternoon testing out these crates of dart weapons we had stowed away in the hold." He pointed towards the large crate at his feet with one hand and offered it selection to his fellow Clone Marshal. Bly took a second to look inside before choosing a DAS-430 electromagnetic projectile launcher for himself. "Be careful where you aim that thing. It fires neural inhibiter darts, and I'd rather not be paralyzed for the next few days if you catch my meaning."

"I've yet to miss a target I was aiming at." Bly assured him. "You know it too bad we only have a small arms range. I'd love it if the Fool had one of those larger ranges like on the bigger warships."

"Yes, but I'm betting there's a lot of bored mongrels hanging around those ranges these days without any blaster gas." Cody pointed out. "If you think about it we're the two most well armed troopers in the whole of Tarkin's Fist at the moment." He indicated the forty odd dart weapons and slugthrowers in the crate and scattered around his blasting pit. Several other clone officers and troopers were currently trying out some of the exotic weapons from other stations on the range.

"Actually, if those boys in white got to digging around their own armories a little deeper they might find out that they have quite a few Imperial repeaters, heavy repeaters, and even some 84-U hunting rifles. It might have saved them some KIAs in that bloodbath on the Abandoned Hope." Bly suggested.

"Evidently, someone's been checking into the Fleet's cargo manifests." Cody joked.

"I'm not the only one if what the rumor mill is starting to turn out is true." Bly lined up his target and calmly put a dart into each of its eyes. "Try doing that from the back of a BARC speederbike going full out sometime. I saw Neyo do it once."

"Are you talking about the scuttlebutt where there's some kind of base sending ancient types of probe droids out to spy on us?" Cody remarked as he dug through his weapons cache. He was determined to find at least one slugthrower or dart weapon that could penetrate the armor.

"That's the one. When we were sent on this mission by the dear old Grand Moff Tarkin," Bly was obviously making a jest as he despised mongrel officers as much as the next clone, " we were supposed to be met by Captain Daala and her four Star Destroyers. That was it! The maw was supposed to be a closed off empty system completely devoid of life, and yet the Fleet's sensors are picking up a huge volume of signals indicating some kind of civilization close by."

"I personally no longer believe we ever made it to the maw, or if we did we skipped off one of those black holes that surround the place and kept right on going." Cody hefted a CZ-25 Flamethrower onto his back and primed the lighter and blasting mechanism. If he couldn't penetrate the armor he would roast whoever was inside of one alive.

"So you don't think that's Daala trying to contact Admiral Yos either?"

"Not with such ancient methods. She would simply send an identity code, and Yos would respond in kind. There probably was some kind of cease blast code Tarkin gave him for when we entered the maw, so the Captain wouldn't open up on us." He let go with a squirt of flammable propellent that ignited and fried the target. The polarized lenses in his helmet grew darker to compensate for the sudden glare of the flames.

"I heard there was something like that. Well we're supposed to have whatever system we end up in to ourselves, so that we can set up Tarkin's super utopia and blah blah blah." Bly started searching for a new weapon to try out.
"Don't forget about Bacara's plan for us to form a clone refuge, for us to live out our golden years in some semblance of peace and prosperity." Cody motioned for the other clone to try out the Dissuader KD-30 slugthrower and handed him a piece of armor to slap on his target.

"That's what I was getting at. Us clones have already done our part don't you think?" Bly retrieved his target and began slapping the armor onto it. "If there is a group of unknown beings in this system Yos is going to have to wipe them out.

Otherwise how is he going to keep all of Kuat's and Culter's research a secret. One Imperial agent gets to that base and the game is over for Tarkin and Yos."

"I hear you, and after Yos blasts the osik out of that place it'll be up to the clones once again to mop up."

"That's exactly my point. Why waste mongrel stormtroopers, when you have perfectly good blaster fodder in some rapidly ageing clones left over from the last War." Bly looked right at Cody, but aimed the slugthrower downrange. The gun kicked a bit in his hand and still hit center mass of the target at maximum range of twenty five meters. The Dissuader fired a specialized hollow round filled with borless acid that instantly started dissolving the armor around the target.

"Kandosii!" they both yelled. "I trust in Bacara though. As far as Yos knows we're just another oversized stormtrooper corps, and so what if we still call ourselves a clone corps on the datapads. A lot of units still use unit designations from the war, like the 501st Legion does in Vader's fleet to name just one example." Cody soothed his friend's worries. He signaled another clone to come over and take over with the new weapons. The man trotted up and jumped down into Cody's firing pit, but not before the Clone Marshal slipped the Velocity-7 under his yellow kama. He got out and stood on the edge of Bly's blasting pit, offering a hand in helping the other clone up.

"I'm not that old yet." Bly started to climb out of the pit when the whole starship gave a sudden lurch before the inertia dampers adjusted. Bly lost his footing and landed on his shebs at the bottom of the pit. "What the dar'yaim was that?" he howled.

"It's early." Cody stated nonchalantly.

"What is?" Bly attempted to once again ascend from his hole. This time he succeeded.

"We've got one of those CT-11s assigned to the Anoat Squadron again. It seems that it's going to be a while before we get any fuel for our reactors, since Kuat's hoarding his for his labships, and Yos is filling up the warcraft in his squadron first. So as a result one of the four tugs going back and forth with empty ore haulers to the asteroid belt and back is instead being utilized to tow us to a higher orbit, so that we don't get sucked into the gravitational well of that big beast behind us."

"And Moff Culter was alright with this?" Bly asked in disbelief. They exited the range and turned to make their way to the gym. Most of it still wasn't powered up, but the weight machines didn't require any energy to speak of anyways.

"I heard he didn't even raise an argument. He's more concerned with exploring this unknown base and seeing if there an undiscovered planet that could be used in a terraforming effort. When was the last time an Imperial cared for a clone's opinion anyways. I heard Bacara blew a gasket when he heard we'd be last in line at the fuel pump." Cody explained. This had all happened in the past few shifts, and Bly had been off-duty for those, so this was all new to him.

"Old grumpy, huh? I would have loved to have seen that. If he and Neyo ever blew up at each other I bet you could hear a pin drop."

"Probably just try to stare each other to death. Anyways he's got Culter to agree to bring him along during the next weekly meeting with the Fleet Admiral. We should have a Theta fueled up by then."

"Yeah, I heard Seco was a little irked when Kuat was the only one to show up in that sailing boat of his."

"It worked. I heard he's got the Admiral wrapped around his finger." They came along one of the forward facing viewports of the starship. "Something looks out of place?" Cody pondered aloud.

"Yeah us, we're being towed out of the line at the moment remember." Bly tried to remind his friend of what he had just been told earlier.

"No, I mean at the front of the Fleet." Both clones stopped and flipped down their macrobinoculars. Bly raised his hand and seemed to be counting with his fingers the number of starships he should be seeing.

"Stop when you get to a thousand." Cody ribbed him. "It's the Quill. She's missing from the formation."

"Well I'll be. Yos must have filled her up and taken her on a shakedown cruise to see if there were any problems with her engines." Bly added.

"There she is." Cody pointed to a triangular shape near the asteroid belt. As they watched the ship started to get larger as it made its approach back to the fleet.

"Hopefully in a couple of weeks it'll be our turn." Bly stated. They both turned and resumed their journey to the gym. "And then it's on to attack that strange outpost."

For all of the clone's sake, Cody truly hoped not.

TIE Maintenance Bay, Imperial II-class SD Quill, Unknown Space

"Captain Roblin, may I present your new squadron." The newly promoted Lieutenant Commander Vertitas gestured to the nine black-clad pilots in front of him. The men formed one neat rank as they stood to attention, waiting for their new squadron commander to inspect them.

"Everyone take your buckets off so I can get a good look at you." Timus Roblin ordered. As if it was a choreographed maneuver each of the TIE pilots took off his helmet in unison. They were a clean cut lot, he observed. They were each the pride of their respective academies. Six of the men wore the rank insignia of second loots, while two of the pilots still bore the rank of an ensign. He'd have to watch those lads most of all, he noted to himself.

The last man bore the rank of a first lieutenant, which he hadn't worn the last time he had seen the pilot. "Hello August, that new rank cube suits you well." August had been the only remaining member of Mynock Squadron and the only surviving panelman that had followed him after those rebel missiles during the Death Star attack. It was a no brainer who his new executive officer would be in the squadron.

"Yes, sir. It's wizard to see you've escaped the captivity of the Imperial Nursing Corps. Vicious taskmasters those ones are." He grinned and Roblin was surprised to see that Vertitas was even having a smile as well. The rest of the pilots in the formation looked appalled that one of their own could be so friendly with a superior officer.

"Yes, I had to fight tooth and nail, and a few other body parts as well, to escape their nefarious clutches." Roblin was disappointed to see that August was also the only pilot in the formation to be wearing Combat Flight Wings. Well if there really was an enemy base around these parts, as he had been hearing around the ship, these men would see action soon enough. "It's good to see you, August. Herein you're the XO, so I'll need to talk with you later on squadron matters." Vertitas nodded in agreement.

"Captain, I see you have things well in hand. Remember to contact me in FlightOps before you get started." Vertitas turned to Roblin, and both men actually gave each other a proper salute without a hint of disdain for the other man. The Lieutenant Commander turned and marched out of the bay leaving Roblin alone with his squadron.

"Alright boys, let me brief you on today's training, but first of all let me welcome you to Mynock Squadron. We used to be the number three squadron onboard the Quill, but since this is the new wing commander's old squadron we got the bump up to the number one slot. When in flight, my call designation is QI2-1-1. August your 1-2, and now the rest of you count off, starting at three." Roblin waited for the count to finish. "Alright those numbers are your new call designations. Unofficially we'll be working with personal 'call signs' when we're on the squadron net, but under no circumstances do you inform the Wing Commander of that. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" Roblin was almost deafened by the enthusiasm of their response. "Alright then, I know what types of snubfighters you all trained on at flight school, but the standard fighter of Mynock Squadron is the TIE/In Starfighter." He noticed the two ensigns looked nervous; this must be the first time for both of them inside the newer fighter, Roblin figured. He made a note to check the men's flight records later.

"We are also the secondary flight after Bantha Squadron in the TIE/sa bombers, and Eopie Squadron for the TIE/bc, TIE light duties, TIE/fc, TIE/gt, and especially the TIE/rc series. So we will be doing training flights in all of those craft until everyone of you is one hundred percent proficient on every fighter onboard." The black clad pilots looked eager to get started.

"Right, today's flight will be with the TIE/In. These ten Starfighters are the only flight that has received any fuel. So we'll be the only one's out there today. I wish I could say we were at a weapon hot status, but not a single one of these craft has any blaster gas. So, on the off chance we do run across any enemy fighters or pirates on this mission, remember your duty and know that your fighter can also be utilized as an effective ram. We call that maneuver the We Both Die or the WBD for short." Not a single man flinched when he mentioned the suicidal option so he figured they were as ready as they ever would be. He hoped it wouldn't have to come to that, but nobody was really sure what was in ths system along with the crippled Tarkin's Fist, could be a nest of Rebels out there for all he knew. "Alright everyone get up to the TIE rack behind me. Lieutenant August and I will take the first two TIEs and lead you out. The rest of you file in your craft in numerical order so you get used to it. Alright, dismissed." He figured he'd give them a proper briefing once they were underway, or he'd just wing it and make it up as he went along, which was much more his style anyways.

The rest of the flight took off for the ladders up to the TIE racks at a sprint, while August came over and shook Roblin's hand. "It's good to see you, August. When they gave me this squadron I thought I was going to have to build it up purely from a bunch of rookies."

"I'm surprised Vertitas didn't try to skrag you over. There was a rumor that I might end up in Howlrunner or Bandigo Squadrons, but then I heard you were coming back, and I had to see you stick it to old Vertitas one more time." They both were grinning from ear to ear.

"What about the squadron? Are they all good lads?" Roblin was concerned as the two men slowly walked to the ladders.

"It was kind of a scramble to get new pilots after that missile attack. Tarkin wanted full compliments on every starship in his Tarkin's Fist, so none of them went through the weeding out process that the rest of Admiral Yos's fleet went through. All that was required was that they were single and had no family, because there was no way to get their dependents into the Horuz System in time. They all came from the Death Star's fighter corps, but I swear they've all been in COMPNOR indoctrination seminars right up until boarding the Quill, the day before she jumped into hyperspace. It's rubbing the other pilots in the wing the wrong way too."

"Any fights yet?" Roblin asked. He really had been too distracted with his injuries and the retrieval duties of the past week to keep up on gossip.

"No, but there will be. It's only a matter of time." August warned as he ascended the ladder. Roblin pondered the other man's words of wisdom as he made his way to his own fighter.

Once he sat in the ejection jump seat once again all his worries seemed to flow right out of him. He strapped the crash netting of the jump seat over his shoulder and felt a small tinge, but forced his mind to ignore it. He ran his hands over the flight panel and powered up the twin ion engines. A low whine hummed in his ears as the smell of ozone from the engines filled the cockpit. He gripped the stick and activated the racks to move the squadron to the hanger. With a familiar jerk his TIE was moving above the bay along a rigid track embedded in the ceiling racks. His flight computer told him that the other nine Starfighters in the flight were right on his tail. After a few rigid left turns the launch rack had him facing the hanger's docking shield with nothing but open void beyond.

"FlightOps, this is Mynock Flight requesting permission for departure." He asked over the comset. They were using special encrypted localized sets to maintain the blackout conditions the Fleet was under.

"Roger that, Mynock Flight. You are approved for departure from Alpha Hanger." Flight Control responded.

"Good hunting, QI2-1-1." Vertitas suddenly offered over the comm. Roblin didn't know what to make of that. Miracles could happen he told himself.

With a sudden blast of ozone Roblin rocketed out of the hanger and into the freedom that every pilot felt when they climbed for open void. His subspace radar told him the rest of Mynock was launching right behind him. "Alright boys, switch over to squadron channel four, and form up into attack formation Echo-3." No need to stress them out to early he told himself. He watched as the other fighters took up the formation. It was a little slower than he would have liked, but he would work that out of them. "Not good enough, 1-8, 1-5. All of you drop back and we'll do it again. This time like you mean it." He imagined that Lieutenant August was stifling a laugh from his own fighter.

"Alright Mynocks, attack formation Echo-3 on my mark," he waited the space of two heartbeats, "Move!" This time was a lot cleaner, as each pilot knew where he was supposed to be. He noted one or two Starfighters overshot their position in the formation by a meter or two, but quickly fixed their mistake. He had them try the formation twice more, before turning back towards the Fleet. He paired the men in teams of two panelmen and had them practice pursuit flying with one playing follow the leader with the other. His own panelman was Lieutenant August and they hung back to observe and correct sloppy flying.

"1-7 and 1-8, stay away from the Star Destroyer Flood. They're testing out their defensive shields today and I don't want to see either of you get zapped." As he said the words he swore he saw strange electrical pulses surge from the warship and almost clip 1-7's Starfighter.

"1-7, your new call sign is Zap." Roblin informed him.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Zap out." QI2-1-7 said over the comm. Now he was sure August was laughing, as much as he was sure the other young pilots would do whatever it took to get call-signs of their own.

"1-1, this is 1-2, I got a likely target for our training exercise."

"Where's that, 1-2?"

"It's out beyond one of the Acclamator IIs, the Chariot." August downloaded the targeting information into Roblin's flight computer and the new Captain saw the target he was talking about. It was only three kilometers in diameter and was orbiting in retrograde to the gas giant's equator.

"Mynock Squadron reform into Echo-3." This time was near perfect as the pairs of fighter craft rejoined him and his wingman. A few seconds later they were racing past Culter's Squadron, which was still in the process of being towed to higher orbit, and charging towards their new found target. The small moon grew proportionally larger in his viewport as they approached.

"Alright Mynocks, the first step of Aerial Combat Meneuvers is detection and identification. 1-2, what is it that every pilot should remember?" Roblin asked.

"The first to spot the enemy wins." August answered.

"That's right. That's why we're always scanning and checking our sensors whenever we're in flight. This is also the time to choose to attack or retreat. The next step is closing with the enemy. We use speed, concealment, and deception to find the best attack position with the type of enemy force you are approaching. 1-3 and 1-4 approach the target." He watched as the two broke off and acted as if they were strafing the moon's surface. QI2-1-4 flew in perfect over watch position as his panelman made his run.

"That was great, remember boys to always watch out for your panelman and they'll watch out for you. Next stage of a void fight is the attack. You want to do everything possible to ensure a successful attack phase. Four out of five kills are made at this phase of combat. 1-5 and 1-6 make your runs." He watched as the next pair shot out of the formation and mock attacked the asteroid. He noted a few corrections he would go over in the debriefing after their training was complete.

"The fourth stage of combat is the maneuver phase. This is where vape fighting comes into effect. Zap and 1-8 you're up." He ordered, as QI-2-1-5 and QI2-1-6 returned to the formation. He really wished they had blaster gas so he could judge the effectiveness of each attack. "In a vape fight the first priority of every pilot is to survive, everything after that becomes secondary. In the weeks ahead you'll be practicing this until you can take on the best pilots in the fleet."

"One of which, just happens to be your Captain, so pay attention." August warned the younger pilots.

"Last, but not least is disengagement. 1-9 and 1-10 perform your runs and then we'll perform a disengagement back to the Quill." He played particular attention to their attack run as they were the two most junior pilots in his new squadron. "The best way to disengage is to destroy the enemy down to the last man. A lot of good pilots have lost their lives when they thought the battle was won, just to have one last bloodsucker pop up and shoot them down on their way back to base. The battle isn't over until Mynock is back in the racks."

The last two finished their runs and Roblin ordered his squadron around. They quickly rejoined the Fleet. They weren't the best pilots he had ever flown with, but they would be some day, he told himself. It was such a major step for the Fleet to have a combat fighter cover once again, that Roblin chalked up this training flight as a victory of sorts. With his own squadron of TIEs under his command, he suddenly felt that all was once again right with the Galaxy. He flipped on the FlightOps comm channel.

"Watch out universe, the Mynocks are back in town."
------------------------------------------
Droid Access Tunnel F7-P, Imperial Cargo Ship Chain, Unknown Space

Ashla slowly pushed the pack holding all of her worldly belongings ahead of her as she crawled along the tiny darkened access conduit. She had tied a red glow rod to her bag to help guide her way through the maze of tunnels she had come across.

A few hours before, she had been strolling along the alleyways and canyons of containers in the deep holds of the Chain looking to trade whatever she could find for more food. Her supply of MPETs was slowly running out and she needed another source of nutrients to keep her going. She had wished there were more pets or small animals onboard, but she feared those had all been devoured by their owners long ago. Togrutas like herself, found most small mammals to be a delicacy, and would try to hunt them down whenever there was a chance.

When the power to the cargo ship had finally been restored, the ship's temperature controlling atmospherics had quickly melted the layer of thick permafrost that had coated every surface in the yard. The result had been the presence of an overpowering mold scent permeating the entire hold, while small ankle deep streams of defrost pooled in the bottoms of the canyons.

Ashla was lucky to come across a container of military armor that was being ransacked by a large group of slaves. She had picked up a pair of white SeaTrooper boots that had adjusted to her size. She tore off the folding swim fins and made her exit before another prisoner decided to fight her for her prize. Her old boots were fine except they soaked up water like a sponge, but she had managed to trade them for a few sandwiches from a merchant who dealt with clothes and consumable merchandise.

While trying out her new footwear in the icy water, at the bottom of the canyon in front of her home, she noticed that the pools seemed to possess a tiny current. Her interest peaked, she followed the flow of water until it disappeared underneath another wall of cargo containers. With a sigh she looked at the height of the mountain before her. The problem with the power coming back was that the inertia dampers also cut in. She didn't know of any alternative routes around the mound in front of her and resigned herself to the climb.

As she climbed, dozens of other slaves perched on ledges and cliff edges watched her to pass the time or perhaps to distract themselves from the monotony of captivity. She scrambled over the top and squeezed through a bunch of Quarrens resting at the peak, before she slid down one of the support cables running down the sides of every pile of containers.

With a big splash she landed at the bottom of the next canyon. She was thankful once again for her new boots as her lower legs and feet remained dry and warm under the chilly water. She stood there for a minute trying to figure out which direction the water was flowing. Once she had determined the current's flow, she followed it for several meters, before her feet connected with a metal grate along a darkened corner on one of the high walls of the yard. Ashla bent down as far as she could without submerging herself. The bottom of her front two montrals went under the water and instantly relayed just how cold it was, but they also echo located and told her of the layout of an undiscovered tunnel ahead of her.
She pulled herself erect again and stood in place for a moment contemplating her new discovery. Was this really a way out, she wondered. If so why hadn't some water-based species already tried it like one of the Nautolan or Quarrens. She felt around the base of the grate and didn't come across any welds or bolts, but when she tried to move it with her hands the thing didn't even budge a millimeter. It must have been made of some sort of mineral that was extremely heavy she thought. She looked around again to make sure no one was watching her with her find, before trying something else. In the shadowed corner she reached out with the Force. She remembered the lessons she had learned as a child from Master Yoda about doing and not trying, and how size mattered not to a Jedi. She felt the Force merge with her will and with a few small scraping noises witnessed the grate pull free from its place of anchor. She was amazed how much power she
retained in the Force after years on the run.

She dropped the grate back into place with a clang and tried to be inconspicuous as she made her way back to her own quarters. A half hour later she was back in her shelter frantically gathering her pack and small food supply, as well as the last gallon of clean water she owned and the pieces of her lightsaber. With a quick look around to check if she had missed anything the young Togruta left her shelter for what she hoped was the last time.

She climbed up and over the mound of containers again, hoping that no one became curious about her or the large pack on her back. She told herself that a lot of slaves in the yard carried all their possessions with them whenever they traveled outside of their shelters, so she shouldn't draw any unwanted attention. Before long she was standing in front of the grate again. She made sure she wasn't being observed by any other beings and then repeated the Force lift to move the grate aside.

With a sudden plunge she was instantly submerged within the tunnel. Her pack threatened to weigh her down, and she immediately regretted her decision to get rid of the swim fins when she couldn't feel a bottom to the tunnel. She paddled with her hands until she was facing her entrance again. She raised a hand and Force-lifted the grate back into place. The thing weighed as much as a Hutt so she was pretty sure that she wouldn't be followed.

She snapped a red glow rod and let it float away in the current. She disappeared into the darkness as she followed its light. After about twenty five meters her lungs were starting to scream for oxygen, but ahead of her was a slight greenish glow in the roof of the tunnel. Another five meters and her head broke the surface of a maintenance closet of some sort. She climbed up onto a service walkway and unhooked her pack letting it hit the deck, all the while gasping for breath. She wrung the water off of her montrals and tried to dry herself as much as she could. She pulled out the glow rod from where it had got stuck against a screen and stuck it in her boot. The room was lit with dull overhead emergency lights. Some type of nearby machine gave off a tremendous amount of heat so she used it to start drying most of her belongings.
She explored the area for a while as her clothes dried out. The stream emptied into what appeared to be an industrial water filter and cistern. Ashla was glad she got out when she did as she didn't relish being entombed at the stream's ending. It was a hour of navigating maintenance and service areas before she was convinced that there wasn't any conventional means of escape from the room. All the doors she had come across could only be opened with a security card from the other side. High above, hidden behind some power cells she noticed a small opening into a service conduit of the type usually used by repair droids.

Most of her gear was dry and she changed out of her wet clothes for new ones that were just slightly damp before gathering her pack and attempting an ascent. Once she reached the hole she threw the glow rod from her boot as far as she could, to get some light shining into the tiny passageway. She echo located and reached out with the Force to get a better picture of what the tunnel was like. She hefted herself into it with a grunt and immediately her defenses seemed to rise on their own. Ashla kept her guard up as she crawled along the conduit.

She was sure it was taking her even further from the yard she was trying to escape. When she rounded a corner she scraped her side against some kind of sensor on the wall. She held up her glow rod to the device and discovered an inactive motion detector. The walls ahead of her were lined with them, as well as some lethal looking types of small depowered defensive systems. Evidently the power hadn't been returned to many of the starship's systems yet. She continued her journey on all fours without a clue where this tunnel would lead.

After about twenty minutes of crawling past more and more sophisticated security sensors she saw a purplish light cutting through a screen several meters ahead. She pushed her pack over it and gazed into a room that lay beneath her. The room contained two inactive security battle droids left over from the Clone Wars as well as a pile of bricks and several crates. When she kicked the screen aside she dropped the glow rod into the room. The red light mixed with the dim purple to reveal that the sides of the room were lined with what appeared to be security deposit boxes.

Ashla dropped into the vault like the silent hunter that she was and landed on the pile of bricks. They clanged metallically against each other and she picked one up to take a closer look. The color was weird because of the lighting in the vault, but she was pretty sure she was holding up a bar of pure silver. Ashla let out a hiss of astonishment through her fangs as she tried to count the number of bars beneath her feet.

She motioned with the Force and her pack joined her in the vault. She emptied it of everything except her lightsaber and threw ten of the bars inside of it. She also deprived one of the battle droids of its blaster, while she stuck its vibroblade into the back of her Togruta sash. With a quick flip of her wrist one of the security boxes ripped off of its hinges. She reached in a pulled out stock certificates from the Timme UniStar Armnaments Corporation. She silently counted more than a million credits worth of certificates before flinging them on the floor. She flung open twenty more boxes and peered inside. Most of them were filled with more stocks and bearer bonds from across the galaxy, which the young Jedi ignored, but whenever she noticed jewelry or credit chips she would sweep them into her pack.

She noticed a power couplet in the corner of the vault and plugged in her datapad and the diatium power cell from her lightsaber. While they charged back up she went back to ripping off doors of boxes and crates in the vault. Several times she paused and remained still as she listened for movement from the other side of the safe's huge door. Evidently, she must be near some of the crew as she heard man-made noise and casual voices every so often. It made her more cautious in her looting. To cover her tracks, she replaced the blaster at the feet of the droid, she had a sneaking suspicion it wouldn't have worked anyways, and closed as many of the open deposit boxes as she could.

She started emptying out one box from one of the last rows when she noticed three small objects inside. She recognized the shape as a sort of crystal and held them up to the glow rod so she could make a better determination of their identity. Her heart skipped a beat as she felt a small connection in the Force to the first crystal. The red light of the glow rod didn't help her in determining the crystal's color, but she was positive she was holding an Adegan crystal. It was the exact same sort of lightsaber crystal that Master Kolar had given her when Ashla had become his Padawan learner. The next small jewel was what she thought was a piece of Kasha, a rare crystal that allowed its user to clear their mind and focus while in battle. It was the last tiny piece that truly astonished her and she wanted to make absolutely sure of its identity before trying out the small gem. She tucked it away in a pocket along with the other two crystal and retrieved the rest of her gear, before climbing up into the service tunnel once more.

It wasn't two minutes later, that while she was shoving her now much heavier pack ahead of her, that a small mechanical noise followed by a series of clicks started up within the tunnel. She had been sure to stow her gear in an unused portion of the conduit and replaced the screen so she was pretty sure the noise wasn't coming from the vault. It suddenly dawned on her that the security devices along the wall were starting to emit a small red indicator light.

"Fierfek!" She howled as she started pushing the pack with her head while crawling on all fours as fast as she could. Well behind her the red indicator lights were turning blue nearest to the vault, and more were being activated closer and closer to her. She crawled for all she was worth, eventually even giving the pack a shove with the help of the Force. She looked back and saw a laser grid activate and start to sweep the conduit for any intruders. It turned in her direction and she started to sweat as she noticed the end of the sensor line twenty meters ahead.

Her boots and elbows clanged against the metal walls of the corridor as she lurched through it, with the laser grid closing on her fast. In the chilly air of the tunnel, sweat dripped from her montrals and stung her eyes. Her echolocation gave her no sense of how close the lasers were closing with her, but the Force was letting her know they were almost on top of her. Just as Ashla felt as if she would be sliced to ribbons by the security device she lunged past the last motion detector and the web of red lasers came to a halt a few centimeters from her feet. It let out a low buzz, and then turned and reversed its direction as it continued on its assigned patrol. Ashla let out a huge sigh of relief when she noticed the tiny burn marks on the sole of her right boot.

She jumped back into the maintenance room, and started organizing her haul. The first thing she did was check out the third crystal. It was a light orange crystal that she couldn't believe she was holding. It had to be a Solari crystal, only one had been made famous by the Jedi Revan thousands of years ago. There had been a rumor that there were a few more of the light-sided crystals. Ashla had heard that only someone steeped in the light side of the Force would be able to use one, and now one of them was lying in the palm of her hand.

She ignored everything else for the rest of the day as she positioned and tuned the three crystals into the hilt of her own weapon. The power cell had been fully charged and she had inserted it into the weapon as well. Filled with the calmness and focus of the light side she purposely reconstructed her Jedi weapon from the memory of what Master Kolar had imparted in her, while ignoring outside stimuli such as thirst and hunger.

When she felt it was finally ready the Togruta stood up and assumed the first position of Djem So. She flicked the activator switch and with a familiar hum that warmed Ashla's memory, a long blue blade emerged from the hilt. She felt the warmth of the weapon upon her montrals as she held it in the ready pose above her head.

"Now we're in business."
--------------------------------------------
Flag Bridge, Imperial-II class SD Quill, Lead Formation of Tarkin's Fist

"We should have done this a week ago." Fleet Admiral Yos informed the young intelligence agent that was observing the Holovid of the probe launch along with him. The Quill had only been back on station for the past two days, and at the moment was monitoring the shakedown cruise of the Imperial I-class Star Destroyer Slash, one of his own Subterrel Squadron, that was currently making a short orbit of the nearby gas giant. It was the fourth warship in the Tarkin's Fist that had taken on enough fuel to maintain its reactors for a short shakedown cruise.

He reminded himself that he would be sailing the entire Tarkin's Fist closer to the asteroid belt next week so that they could be closer to their primary fuel source, as well as offer the miners out there some better protection, especially if the newly discovered local inhabitants of this backwater solar system objected to their presence out there.

Those local residents had weighed heavily on Yos's mind since their discovery last week and were what had facilitated First Lieutenant Knebler's presence on his Flag Bridge this morning. The presence of four new worlds inside the inner system had been confirmed from their gravity well signatures and through the use of long range sensors and optics. The discovery had left the Admiral in quite an ethical and professional mess. On one hand, there wasn't supposed to be any inhabitants in the maw. Grand Moff Tarkin had emphatically stressed the need for secrecy in this mission, and Yos felt that Tarkin would have wanted him to wipe these aboriginal beings out. Leaving no witnesses breathing would certainly help maintain security, and it wouldn't be the first planet razed by the Empire. Secondly the option of leaving the system, and avoiding any contact any time soon, just wasn't feasible for the next few years if he wanted to keep the entire Fleet intact. On sublight drive engines it would have taken the better part of two decades to reach the nearest system. Lastly there was the possibility of enslavement, which actually seemed like the most feasible settlement. Moffs Culter and Kuat were both arguing for the startup of rather large projects that would require huge amounts of manpower to achieve, and he wasn't positive if they had brought along enough Imperial prisoners and slaves to fulfill every need.

Moff Culter had come up with a rather ingenious plan for the gathering of blaster gas finally, and Moff Kuat had backed him up. When the Grand Moff had originally sent him on this mission into the maw he had attached a horrendously huge Cardon I Space Station along with his cargo carriers. The original plan was for it to be attached to the asteroid that the Maw Installation was based upon, and thus triple its existing space, and provide a base for his ground forces to field themselves out of. For now the space station just floated a few kilometers behind his starship, with nothing more than a skeleton crew keeping her afloat, until Culter had given him the idea for a plan that turned the Cardon into a large gas mining facility along the lines of Bespin's Cloud City.

When they had first scanned the gas giant behind them with life scan indicators they hadn't found the presence of any biological life of any sort. Tibanna gas is usually the by-product of large Beldons, which were nothing more than big bags of gas themselves. Their absence forewarned of nothing worthy of value ever being found in the gas giant's interior. A junior meteorologist onboard one of Kuat's orbital laboratories had continued to search through the high levels of hydrogen and helium and had come across a natural mix of other elements that formed a gas that was almost an exact twin of tibanna. Most of it could be found in the area behind the giant red-spotted storm that orbited the world. The Cardon I would have to have several safety features installed before it could brave the massive winds of the gas giant, but it was feasible. Yos had almost passed out when he heard the news, and was especially excited when he learned the gas only needed to go through a short spinning process before it would be able to be used by the blasters and turbolasers of the Fleet. Culter had some of the necessary equipment aboard several of his cargo transports. The very first sample of this new gas went into arming the probots now hurling into the inner system.

Oddly enough, they had the mining equipment to extract the gas, but no base to house all of the machinery. Extensive investigation showed that they would have to have a sealed base of some sort, as he didn't know of any species that could have survived in the toxic atmosphere of the fifth planet. That was when Kuat had suggested the use of the Cardon I as a base of operations. Culter had even suggested the use of a tribe of Ugnaughts that he had on one of his transports.
That had raised another problem as the Chief of the Ugnaught tribe had argued for his being's freedom as well as ten percent of the profits from the gas's sale after his tribe processed and spun it. Yos hadn't seen an issue with granting them freedom, as he had been considering doing the same thing for the slaves he had ordered out into the asteroid belt, but he hadn't planned on selling the blaster gas to anyone since he commanded every starship in the Fleet. After long negotiations with the Ugnaught Chieftain, it had finally been agreed that the Cardon I would sell gas to the three squadrons of the Moffs while Yos's Subterrel Squadron would receive their supply for free, in return for the Ugnaught's freedom. Culter and Kuat didn't seem to mind, but he had heard scuttlebutt that Seco had almost gone through the roof when he had heard about the arrangement. Rumors also abounded that the Ploo Moff was clamping down on and securing any precious metals and valuables he had onboard his own ships, especially after it had come to light that the slaves aboard his squadron's ships might be breaking into some of the more valuable stores and vaults amongst his transports. Yos had read a troubling top secret assessment, from Fleet Intelligence that the Imperial Credit Unit might be starting to lose its value amongst the Fleet; the longer it seemed they were to remain away from the Empire and the HoloNet, the worse it would become. All the more reason to get Tarkin's utopian society up and running as fast as possible, even if it was on the backs and sweat of the inhabitants of this system.

One of the space tugs was currently docked with the Cardon I as it was refueling and refitting next to the Carbon. The Admiral wanted to make sure its repulse lifts had plenty of fuel, and the Carbon's Commander had assured him that he could give the Cardon enough for two years at the moment. It would have to do, Yos thought as he glanced at another report. He noted that the Ugnaughts were also embarking from their transport towards the spacestation, as well as five hundred other newly freed slaves that had agreed to come along and man the mining facility. Yos had also ordered a full battalion of stormtroopers from his own squadron, aboard to protect his interest in the venture, and to provide internal security as well.
He had fought the urge to send Phasma along to keep her out of trouble, especially if there was an impending war on the horizon, but he knew his daughter would never forgive him for making her sit it out on the sidelines. She currently was taking an acceptance exam for the academy he was setting up. She was aboard one of the Moff Kuat's orbital laboratories and wouldn't be back until tomorrow. He had felt guilty for punishing her, but the fear he had felt at her disappearance let him know how he couldn't bear to lose her. He thought of Phasma's mother and wondered if she had ever acted in such a manner. Phasma's birthday was in a few weeks and he had already thought of the perfect gift to mend any broken bridges between them. When his mind stopped with his familial distraction, it came back to the Cardon I and the business of running a wounded Tarkin's Fist.

Wozz, the Ugnaught Chief, had guaranteed the first shipment of high grade blaster gas in one standard month. It was a relief to finally find the solution to one of the Fleet's most troubling problems, but as a pragmatic man the Fleet Admiral saw many more on the future's horizon.

The present was foremost on his mind at the moment. "How much longer do you think?" He asked the junior intelligence man. The officer's superior Commander Yutu was at his own station a few decks below in Signal Interception. Normally it would have been Yutu reporting to him.

"The first two should reach the fourth planet tonight, followed by the probes sent to the third in two days. The last two shouldn't reach the innermost planet for almost four days." Yos already knew the answer, but the stress of waiting was starting to get on his nerves. He signaled the naval steward nearby for a cup of Manellan Jasper tea to sooth his stressed anxieties.

Tarkin's Fist had dispatched sixteen Viper probe droids for missions within the inner rim of the system. They had been paired for the three planets that seemed to bear no life forms and a full squad of ten of the droids had been sent to the third planet, the one that had been sending out so many signals for the lads in CommScan and SigInt to intercept. One of the probots had been lost when it had smashed into an asteroid on its way through the belt, luckily it had been one of the ones sent to the third planet so there had been some room for error in that particular reconnaissance mission.
The situation had been quite revealing when he had taken a meeting with Commander Yutu a few days before. The Chief of Intelligence for his fleet had laid out what they were dealing with. Yutu had determined from 2d signals and some few snippets of rudimentary 3d, that he had intercepted, that they were dealing with another bipedal human race. When Yutu had shown him the many images he had collected Yos had assumed from the variety of races that were present that these humans must have several colonies in the local sector at the very least. Yutu had informed him that they hadn't detected any so far, but they had been surprised by a few signals coming from the planet's solitary moon. The commander had assured him he was compiling extensive amounts of data about this new society of humans, and would be presenting as much as possible as his crimson-clad boys in intelligence came across it. Back home, COMPNOR would someday be excited to hear they found another race of beings to fit into their High Human Culture agenda, but Yos had told himself before leaving on this mission that he could never stomach reporting to the likes of those Imperial lackeys again.
The Viper droids were coming to the inner edge of the asteroid belt and started to split up towards their designated targets. "Tell me, Lieutenant, have you ever heard of the legend of the 'Far Outsiders' before?" He asked Lieutenant Knebler.

"They're supposed to be some sort of alien race from beyond the galactic disk, supposedly quite nasty, sir, but I had only thought that was a bedtime story meant to scare little younglings." The lieutenant responded as he checked the holoprojection against information on his datapad.

"So had I." Yos wondered. "So had I."

Yellowstone National Park, Smaller Continental Mass, Third Planet in local system

The Delta Force operator stopped for just a second to catch his breath. He had just sprinted from the ridge line two miles away, after making sure the National Guard soldiers from Colorado were ready and in place for their coordinated ambush.
The alien robot weapon was closing in on them quickly, according to a spotter in a firewatch tower that was using a land line to keep in touch with the rest of the unit that had been rushed into the area over the past few hours. The operator wished he could use his own commo, but the alien kept broadcasting on its own more powerful transmitters and unfortunately that was causing communication problems over a three state area.

His Special Forces team sat on the opposite side of a large open meadow that had been, until a few hours ago, used only by a local herd of horses. The animals were now hiding in the woods somewhere off to his rear. He crouched in his position and waited for the target to make an appearance. He tried to recall everything he had learned about it on his trip here aboard an old V-22 Osprey, and had decided that it wasn't much. The alien machines had landed in about nine different places around the globe and had headed for power and military installations wherever they could find them.
According to reports from Mexico City these things required a lot of firepower to take them down. They seemed to shrug off any small arm's fire you threw at them. He clutched the grip of his TDI Vector SMG a little tighter. He had been briefed that the regular NAU army units down there had used a few Leopard 3 main battle tanks to finally take their alien robot out. His own team had been rushed into Yellowstone way too fast for anything that heavy to come along with them. After the carnage this thing had left with the Idaho Falls police force, he wished they had more time to pack along some heavy artillery.

"LT, we've got movement." One of his team's snipers informed him. The man was peering through the telescopic sight of his Barrett M82A3 rifle. The operator watched as the spider-like machine emerged from the treeline and floated across the meadow. As far as he could see it didn't seem to have any means of propulsion that was keeping it afloat. For a tiny second it reminded him of a jelly fish like the ones he had seen growing up on the coast of southern Upper California.
"4000 yards." The spotter announced the range. "We have a shot."
"Don't fire, wait till the Guard engages." He ordered. It seemed like an eternity as the robot glided towards his own position, and he silently prayed that the Colorado men didn't fire too early.
Right on cue the National Guard opened up with their M307 machineguns, and LWRC squad automatic weapons. He clinched his dragon skin body armor tighter as he watched the rounds from the Guard bounce off of the alien intruder. What he thought was its head spun around and returned what he couldn't believe were actual laser beams at the Guard troops.
Several explosions rocked the position on the other side of the meadow.

"Now! Move! Move! Move!" he screamed as he led three two man teams out of the thick forest. Every other man carried with him a SMAW or a shoulder-launched multipurpose assault weapon. His great-grandfather would have called them bazookas. The teams closed the distance in seconds, but the machine was already reacting.
It opened up on the team on his left at a distance of only two hundred meters and blew both men to a bloody pink spray before they even knew they were under fire. "Fire!" he screamed, as the teams stopped to aim their weapons. He sent off a spray from his own gun to distract the alien for just a second longer. Two high explosive dual purpose rounds from the remaining SMAWs raced at the robot while the machine cut down the second team an instant after they fired.
It ducked the first round, but the second caught it directly in what he thought were its legs. The machine lurched for a second and then aimed at the three men still remaining in the field. This was it, he thought. There was no way they could reload and get another round off before it wiped them out.
The machine seemed to look at them for just a minor second before internal explosions ripped it to a thousand shreds. A piece of fiery shrapnel caught him in the arm, but he hardly noticed the impact, as he stared at the fireball and crashing wreckage before him.

"LT, we did it!" one of his men screamed. "We kicked ET's butt."

He looked at the burning carnage in front of him in stony disbelief. "Did we?"

Soundproof Conference Room, Signal Interception, Imperial II-class SD Quill

Yutu listened to the science team's report with growing concern. The officer before him was a Lieutenant from the Quill's Exploration and Scientific Observation Shop, and therefore directly subordinate to Naval Intelligence, which made Yutu this female's boss. An honor he could have done without at the moment.

"Why don't you sit down and tell me the whole story again like I'm an Imperial Marine." Yutu told the science officer. The woman reached from the chair across from Yutu and laid out several reports and her own personal imagecaster. Several holoprojections of the Galaxy arose next to another stellar body of unknown origin.

"As you can see, sir, the two are very different." She explained. Yutu stared irritatingly at both images, before motioning for the young officer to continue. "We first knew we weren't in the right place by the sheer abundance of visible stars. If we were indeed inside the maw cluster there would have been very little light making it through the series of black holes that ring the maw installation. It was supposed to have been as if we were staring at a barren black canvas except for the light the installation and the fleet emitted. The presence of starlight was an immediate shock to the members of my team."

"I remember the total lack of starship light and power as being a total shock to everyone else aboard Tarkin's Fist when we arrived, but go on." Yutu tried to lighten up the serious minded officer.

"Yes, right. That was a confusing to us as well, sir. Since it was some time before the power was returned, some of my team noticed that they couldn't pick out any of the common constellations in the known Galaxy, such as The Ronto, The Silly Rabbit, The Burning Snake, Eye of the Pirate, Hutt's Tail, or even the Jeweled Lizard. In fact we couldn't recognize one familiar star in the sky."

"So then what happened?" Yutu prodded the woman along.

"Once we had power restored to our large electrotelescopes and long range imaging sensors we were able to take a much more complete look around, and what we discovered was quite startling. First of all, as every youngling knows the Tingel Arm of the Galaxy wraps itself around the exterior portion of our 'home galaxy', well it has come to our attention that we currently reside in a galaxy that has four to six major arms that all come out of its galactic center. The science teams also noted the absence of the Rishi Maze and any of the seven satellite galaxies that orbit our own. We then picked up the presence of a super black hole in the center of this galaxy which is very similar to the one in our own, but we estimate that this one is several hundred times larger than the one in our home galaxy. The flimsi I could write on that find alone could keep me busy until . . ."

"Lieutenant, please you were saying."

"Yes, our galaxy is a Sb type galaxy, while we have determined that this is a galaxy type SBbc, with a diameter of 30,000 parsecs as opposed to our galaxy that has a diameter of on 37,000 parsecs."

"So are you saying there is a lesser potential for close encounters of alien races in this galaxy?" Yutu asked.

"Perhaps so, sir. Our galaxy supports over 400 billion stars of which only half have orbiting planets and only ten percent of those have ever developed any type of life. This new galaxy seems to only hold between 200 billion and 400 billion stars, and my teams are finding that only about nine percent of the ones we've explored so far have had any orbiting planets. We haven't come across a single piece of evidence for the existence of life in the local galaxy, excluding of course the local system we're in right now."

"Of course. Do you have any thoughts on the life we have found so far?" Yutu needed every scrap of information he could get his hands on.

"Just from signals we've intercepted we are estimating that you are dealing with a 0.7 to 0.8 type civilization of several billion individual beings, though from the amount of communications they put out we figured that amount to initially be much larger (It's as if each of them had their own personal mobile communication device), as opposed to Tarkin's Fist which comes from a type 3 civilization of an estimated 100 quadrillion different life forms.. Other than what you probably have already seen, I doubt we can give you anymore to go on until we are able to go over the reports the probots are sending back."

"That won't be too long. Let me tell you we're getting some really good intel from them. When your teams get the reports I want you to focus on power bases and other weaknesses that we can exploit. You can assume most of their stuff is pretty archaic, so they should be easy to cripple. They seem pretty rustic by Imperial standards." Yutu gave her a rundown.

"How do you know they'll be hostile, sir?" The other officer asked.

"We've already lost five of the nine viper probe droids that we sent to the third planet to hostile engagements with the inhabitants. They all had self-destruct mechanisms, so hopefully they won't be able to get much out of the wreckage. Is there anything else, Lieutenant?"

"Just one thing, sir. If we really have left our own Galaxy how did we get here? I mean, for millennia the Hyperspace Disturbance at the edge of the Galaxy has prevented all hyperspace travel from taking places outside the galactic disc, and now suddenly we're in another galaxy far, far away from our own. It just doesn't make any sense."

"Well, we seem to have used up our entire supply of hypermatter getting here if that's any consolation, even though the computer cores are reporting that we didn't, but keep that between you and me. Report to me tomorrow and I'll have preliminary reports for the science teams to go over." Yutu informed the other officer and both Imperials rose as the science officer then made her way to the door. "One last thing, Lieutenant," Yutu added to have the woman pause for a minute.

'Yes, sir?"

"Your top priority is to find our 'home galaxy' above all else. This is of course above top secret." Yutu ordered. Both officers had worked in intelligence long enough to know what that meant.

"Yes, sir." Both of them saluted and the science officer vacated the room.

Yutu went back to his desk and started storing the classified files into his own secure office safe, when he was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Sir?" Lieutenant Knebler asked as he popped his head in the doorway.

"Come in, Lieutenant. Secure the door after you." Yutu could see the red lit atmosphere of the Signal Interception station for just a moment as the junior officer came through the entrance. Yutu motioned for him to have a seat.

"Commander, this is the preliminary report on the events of the 'big jump'." The lieutenant reported as he handed over a small datapad that Yutu recognized as not being Knebler's own personal one. A good intelligence man knew how to keep sensitive materials from being traced back to him.

"Go on, who do we torture first.?" Yutu asked with a sly grin. "I mean interogate."

"That's just it, sir, we have several."

"Well then start with the most likely."

"That would be someone in Moff Kuat's squadron. You can't make a direct connection, but it seems that the Moff ordered a complete memory wipe of an extensive amount of data systems when his computer cores came back online. We have evidence that he was illegally undertaking research on most of his starships against the Fleet Admiral's direct orders." Knebler informed him.

"We had a suspicion that was going on over there. What can you do when it's a Moff defying your orders though; as long as he didn't kill anyone, I doubt that the Fleet Admrial will raise a finger against Kuat. Was there any type of research that involved nav computers or hyperspace of any sort?"

"Not that we can tell. There was some on new armor systems for the stormtroopers and some hydroponic vegetable nonsense, but nothing overtly obvious." Knebler sounded disappointed.

'Keep digging, Lieutenant, there has to be some reason a research-obsessed Moff got rid of all that data. I want complete background reports on all the scientists doing research during that time, and I want you to check and recheck each one of them." That should keep the junior man busy and his mind off of his failure to find a saboteur, Yos hoped.

"Yes, sir, the next likely suspects are beings who interfered with starship systems during the 'big jump'. While normally this would have affected the operations of only one starship at a time, but we were all connected by an advanced design of a slave rig, based loosely on the Katana Fleet design."

"Yes, there's really no telling what effect that had on Tarkin's Fist." Yutu agreed.

"Several ships had malfunctions of their navigation systems including four cargo ships, a Lancer-class frigate, the Abandoned Hope, although we believe that one was smashed during the prisoner uprising, and even one of the Imperial I-class Star Destroyers in the assault line."

Commander Yutu hadn't heard about that. "Which one, no wait, let me guess, one of Moff Seco's."

"Actually, sir, it was the Insertion in Fleet Admiral Yos's own Subterrelian Squadron." Images on the datapad switched to a three dimensional blueprint of the Star Destroyer in question. "It's captained by Hash Halser. He's been in the service since before the Clone Wars where he earned several commendations for his service on Saleucami," Knebler started going though service records on his own datapad, "but it also says here that he served alongside several men that fell in the Emperor's purges of the Navy after the war. He was then stationed at Kessel and Cilpar before he was transferred a few years ago by the personal orders of Grand Moff Tarkin to serve under Admiral Yos in the Subterrel. The Insertion is his first command and his crew all give him high marks as a Captain."

"He's hardly the sort to sabotage an Imperial Navy plot against the Emperor, especially if Palpatine is behind the deaths of some of Hadrian's friends during the purge. Especially if he was recieving some sort of patronage from the Grand Moff as well. I'm going to need you to also look into the service records of anyone that transferred aboard any vessel in the fleet during that week we were in the Horuz System. For example those pilots that all came aboard this ship to replace the losses in Mynock Squadron." Yutu had his subordinate raise and guided the man towards his viewport, where they gazed at the crippled, defenseless Fleet around them. "I want you to especially focus on the starships that lost their nav computers, and anyone who had access to a nav computer. I suspect that despite Isard's best efforts the ISB may have gotten someone in a position to do some damage."

"It wasn't like it was a big secret what we were up to once you got on board. A newly arrived ISB man would have to have been shocked by what was going on, especially the lack of political officers within the Stormtrooper Corps." Knebler added.

"Yes, that was a calculated risk by Tarkin and Yos. I'm surprised there hasn't been an uprising or mutiny within their ranks. That's another angle to look at for a possible saboteur."

It's minimal, sir, but we'll look into it as well." Knebler assured him.

"Good, we can't afford to leave any glitterstone unturned." There was a small buzz on the intercom on his desk. "Yes, what is it?" he pushed another button and a small blue hologram of Second Lieutenant Murp emerged.

"Commander, we have something out here you should take a look at." The young signals technician reported.

"What is it, Senior Chief?" Knebler and Yutu exchanged curious looks over the desk.

The little hologram spoke. "Sir, we're picking up transmissions in basic from the fourth planet in the system now as well. They seem to be in communications with the third planet."

"Sir, they seem to be advancing on us?" Lieutenant Knebler exclaimed.

"Well someone's just going to have to go out and say hello, aren't they?" Yutu smiled.
---------------------------------------------
Command Bridge, Imperial I-class SD Insertion, Asteroid Belt

"She's handling just fine Captain." Bridge Commander Volt reported from the helm. He ran his hands over the new controls that had been reinstalled, and hoped he never saw the old ones again. "The new nav computer is working out just as fine as the old one did." The best thing about the new equipment, was that there wasn't a trace of the sabotaging Mauler Virus he had implanted in the old one.

"Don't forget the old one dumped us here in the middle of unknown space and then blew itself up. Come around three five five degrees and avoid that larger rock up ahead." Captain Halser ordered from his place by the main viewport. He stood with his arms crossed behind him gazing out of the forward viewport, issuing occasional orders over his shoulder. The ISB spy was amazed at how the elderly Naval Officer spotted incoming asteroids with his naked eyes.

"Roger that, turning to three five five." Volt responded. It had been a frustrating week for the crew. They had to wait for repairs to be completed on the Insertion while they watched their sister starships the Flood and the Slash go through their own shake down cruises. The ISB man had felt impotent as he had watched the progress of the flagships of Moff Kuat and Moff Seco go through their paces. They would have had to wait on Culter's Tector-class star destroyer the Trapped, but the Moff had been gracious enough to let them back into the rotation ahead of them. As Major Eritech of the ISB he had heard the Moff had other things on his mind besides starship operations. An odd trait for a Moff in command of a sector fleet to have, he thought.

"We have a likely candidate at two o'clock high Captain. Registering it at three meters with a speed of 634 kilometers an hour." A subspace radarman reported from the crewpit.

"Full power to starboard deflector shields." Halser turned and yelled into the crew pit. "Where's it going to strike?"

"Two hundred meters in front of the Turret Aurek on starboard hull." Volt answered, "ETA fifteen seconds."

The crew was silent as they waited for the impact, and Volt stepped alongside the Captain to get a better view of it himself. The asteroid and the Insertion were traveling towards each other too fast for him to pick out the rock's approach, when suddenly there was a splattering of debris on the right side of the ship. Large concentric green circles spread out from the point of impact as the shields held. More of them blossomed in front of the Command Bridge as the debris was swept over the hull and crashed into the superstructure of the star destroyer, before being left in the wake of the Insertion.

"Status report." Halser bellowed again.

"Starboard shield at sixty five percent and climbing." A technician from the pit reported.

"No known hull impact Sir." The deck officer added. "Starboard shield should be back to one hundred percent in two point five minutes."

"Excellent. Well done crew." Captain Halser turned and congratulated his men. "That should do for a deflector shield test." He turned to Eritech, "For the rest of our trip let's avoid anymore collisions like that. I don't want to think about what would happen if we hit anything bigger than that."

"I agree Sir. I must say, I'd rather be ramming rebel fighters than lifeless asteroids." He fought down the bile in his thoat as he thought of what he'd rather be doing to his traitorous Captain as well.

"As would I. Have you come across these mysterious rebels the Emperor keeps yammering about?" Halser leaned against the viewport and kept his voice low so their conversation wouldn't be shared with the rest of the crew. Eritech took everything Palpatine said as law, and couldn't believe someone could believe that Palpatine 'yammered'. His spy training kicked in, and he immersed himself in the character of Bridge Commander Volt.

"Not yet Captain, but if the Emperor says they're a threat I'm apt to believe him. I mean look how much damage the Jedi did at the end of the Clone War." Eritech thought this was as good a time as any to further feel out where his captain's sympathies lay.

"Yes I served with a few of them during the war. I never did see the revolution that everyone says they were planning. I thought a couple of them were rather honorable men and women." Eritech wanted to pull out his sidearm and place a blast right between the traitor's eyes. By the Emperor he wished it wasn't empty of tibana.

"That just goes to show you never can tell. That's why we must stay ever vigilant." Eritech quoted doctrine he had learned at the secret training center on Imperial Center. "I bet when they figure out what happened during the big jump they'll trace it back to some sort of rebel cell within the fleet."

"Actually I was just thinking about that, when we got our orders to take the Insertion to the other side of the belt to do some recon, we also received notice that we're to turn over the remains of our old nav computer to Fleet Intelligence aboard the Quill." The captain's eyes narrowed, as if he was studying Volt's reactions.

Eritech thought his heart stopped for a second, but his training as a spy kept him from revealing anything to the captain. "I think most of it went into the trash compacters Sir, but I'm sure we can get some men in there to retrieve it. I'll see to it myself."

"Actually Major Whirl in Starship Supply has already gotten most of it. I ordered him into the garbage this morning. He's got some troopers guarding it in an undisclosed location somewhere onboard. I don't even know where he's got it stashed away, but those were the orders from Commander Yutu on the Quill."

"The new Chief of Intelligence? I haven't got to work with him yet." Eritech tried to look for an opening.

"Neither have I, but I hear Tarkin trusted him explicably, and Yos seems to be fond of him. So I guess we'll just have to get used to the man's methods. There's probably nothing to worry about. I heard there were several starships that suffered the same type of damage as us when we came out of the big jump." Eritech hoped that was true. Any chance to throw intelligence off of his trial till he was able to report to the ISB, he would gladly cling to.

"Captain we are exiting the belt." The helmsman reported. Volt could see the debris ahead clearing up. The local sun was almost twice as bright as it had been when they had departed the fifth planet's orbit, and he wondered when the opaqueness of the viewport would start to dim to protect the crew's eyes from being damaged. A glimmering red planet shined like a precious gem in the distance.

Eritech checked the helm himself. "We should be free of the asteroid belt in eight minutes at present speed, Captain." He informed Halser.

"Good, ready the two TIE/rc starfighters for launch. I want to get them underway as soon as possible." The captain walked over to the port crewpit, until he was standing over the crewman from Flight Control to ensure that his orders we're being carried out. When he was satisfied he turned and walked back over to where Volt was standing.

"I don't envy those two pilots." Eritech suggested. It was a twelve hour trip to get to their destination, followed by a planned five hour recon, and then another twelve hours back to the Insertion. The star destroyer couldn't even help them out and close the distance any because of fuel concerns that were still haunting the fleet. As it was they barely had enough to return to Tarkin's Fist and still keep their reactors running. Fleet Admiral Yos had promised them first in line at the Carbon when they returned.

"Nor do I, almost thirty hours without a refresher. That's got to be rough." Halser agreed. Volt remembered the man came from fleet operations and had never been a pilot himself. "At least we gave them plenty of stim sticks and MPETs to chow on during their trip. I guess they'll have some way of dealing with other issues as they arise." The warship's Captain pondered. Volt had heard about what it was the recon pilots did in case of emergency during long flights, but he didn't think it polite to bring it up to a superior.

They passed the short interval discussing the mission at hand. Evidently over a dozen starship signal interception stations had begun to pick up small short-wave transmissions from the fourth planet in the system just as the Insertion had started her shakedown cruise. As the closest ship to the new find the star destroyer had been ordered by the Fleet Admiral to take a closer look. Volt wished the two recon TIEs were also full up on blaster gas in case they did run into any of this strange group of beings that inhabited this system. If they were indeed unfamiliar with the Empire they would get a quick education in who was the true power in the galaxy.

"TIE/rc Eopie one and Eopie two are go for launch." Flight Control reported.

"Proceed." Halser responded as the last of the asteroids passed behind the Insertion.

Volt and Halser watched as the two starfighters shot out from beneath the hull and raced ahead. Eritech thought it must have been less than a minute before they were too distant to pick out with the naked eye, but he could still follow their progress on the map reader Holoprojector on the bridge. It changed several times to switch between an overview of the system and the various positions of ships in the fleet. The Insertion was easy to pick out due to its separation from the rest of Tarkin's Fist still in orbit around the gaseous fifth planet of the system.

Twenty minutes later Bridge Commander Volt was relieved, and excused himself from the Command Bridge. As Major Eritech he spent most of his time off, searching every inch of the massive warship looking for wherever the crafty supply officer had stowed away the remains of the ruined nav computer, but to no avail. Dejected and exhausted he reported to duty the next morning gloomier than ever.

"Good morning Commander." The deck officer greeted him with a steaming cup of caf. Halser was absent, but he didn't usually come onto the bridge until later in the working day, as he liked to check with different stations throughout the starship before starting his command every day. Volt was sure the superior officer was somewhere checking with a certain officer who had eluded Volt for the entire overnight shift.

"Anything to report this morning?" Volt asked.

"The two TIE/rc fighters are due back in eight hours Sir. They had a pretty busy time of it a few hours ago." The other man informed him.

"Oh yeah. Did they find out anything interesting?" Volt asked, still trying to wake up from the hour nap that had been all he had been able to manage. Maybe he'll get a hold of stim sticks later in his shift, he thought.

"Yes Sir. It seems the enemy has some kind of outpost on the fourth planet."


North Martian Polar Orbit, Orion II-class Shuttle Enterprise, Unknown Space

The Shuttle Commander had been going into space for NASA for almost twenty years, and had been flying Raptors for the Navy for over twenty years before that, but he had never been plagued with as many problems as he had been for the past month.

His only companions aboard the giant long-range shuttle were his two other astronauts, the payload specialist and his stressed out communication expert. They had been the support element for the fourth and so far the longest Martian landing in human history. The three missions before them had been cake-walks, but two days after this mission had landed four other astronauts on the surface, as well as the components for a large inflatable shelters, greenhouses, and construction equipment, the commo has completely crapped out on them.
He floated over to the shuttle's radio gear and put his hand on the shoulder of the young woman manning the commo station. "Getting anything today?" he asked hopefully.

"It's frustratingly sporadic, just like every day for the past month. I've already done another diagnostic test and the computer keeps saying it's the same outside interference."

"What's Houston saying?"

"They're still not scrubbing the remainder of the mission. I think we've spent too much dinero on getting that runway built down there for us to turn back now. We did get a clear channel with them for about forty five minutes while you were sleeping, and that was about it. Spent the entire time uploading data back to them." She explained. "I got a hold of Martinez and the boys on the ground. They're doing ok. She still thinks we're getting interference from the sun."

"That would mean she and her guys down there would be getting major doses of radiation though and we haven't picked up any of that in over three months." They both floated at the station silently searching for new angles to the same problem when the Shuttle Commander swore he felt his shuttle shudder a little.

'What was that?" The communication expert asked worriedly. He hoped it wasn't something with the engines as he didn't
want to undergo a spacewalk without Houston's guidance.

"Hey Boss, get up here you need to see this." The payload specialist's voice came across the intercom, and the two of them rushed towards the crew cockpit area of the shuttle. When they entered the other crew member had his face pressed against the window, trying to get a view of something that was off to the left of the shuttle.

"They're coming back around." He informed them.

"What are?" The Shuttle Commander barely had time to ask when two 'H' shaped craft shot past the window before banking to the right to make another pass. "What the heck are those things? Are they hostile?"

"I can't tell. They haven't shot at us, and they're barely showing up on the FOD radar." The payload specialist responded.

"They look like bow-ties." The female astronaut observed. One of the alein craft came right back at the shuttle and seemed to be slowing down. The other UFO flew to a superior position and was obviously having a look over the shuttle, while the first one slowed its speed to match the Enterprise, until both craft were virtually nose-to-nose.

The shuttle commander squinted and tried to get as good a look as he could. He was staring at a black suited alien with huge black eyes and hoses coming out of its face. It was a sight that would stay with him for the rest of his life, which only seemed to be a only few seconds longer if they're hostile, he thought. The creature shockingly seemed to perform the German salute from World War II.

There was a sudden pop and the radio in the shuttle emitted a cloud of smoke. "I think they're trying to communicate." The female member of their crew stated. "Their radio just fried ours."

"Get it back up!" he yelled. He turned back to the window and the two craft were gone.

"Over there." The other crewmember pointed at the pair as they entered the Martian atmosphere heading in the direction of the Surface Lander team on the surface. He wished he could have chased after them, but the two craft were capable of speeds faster than anything he had ever seen. "What do you think just happened Colonel?"

"I think we just got felt up a bit."
-------------------------------------------------
Blaster Range 3, Imperial I-class SD Insertion, Assault Line Tarkin's Fist

SF-4738 held his Blastech E-11 high above his head. He stood in front of the of the massed ranks of his armored stormtrooper platoon and had them recite after him, the chant they had all memorized since their first days of basic training on Carida. A few clones and ge-nodes still in the corps had told him they even learned the chant on Centax-2 after they had been decanted.

"This is my blaster. There are many more like it." Their voices echoed off the walls of the blaster range as the men screamed the chant with all they could muster. The rising crescendo made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "My blaster is my best friend. It is my life. Without me my blaster is useless. Without my blaster I am useless. I must shoot straighter than my enemy, who is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will. Before the Emperor I swear this creed: my blaster and myself are defenders of my Empire, we are the masters of our enemy." 4738 was pleased.
Lieutenant Mahan stood at his side as he lowered his blaster again. "Wow that was kind of awe inspiring." The young officer remarked. The Insertion had been one of the first star destroyers to receive a bit of tibanna blaster gas from that mining facility the Fleet Admiral had set up in the atmosphere of the nearby gas giant. Rumor had it the old man hadn't wanted to test out the new alien gas on the turbolasers of his flagship the Quill, so the Insertion had been chosen to receive the first small shipment, after her successful priliminary reconnaiscance of the fourth planet in the local system. Captain Halser had always been a friend of the corps and had been able to cipher off a small portion of blaster gas for the stormtroopers to do some refresher range firing.

"You didn't have to learn that at the academy, Loot?" 4738 asked politely.

"No, we didn't get a lot of blaster training, just a bunch of COMPNOR political ideology and your basic course load of spoon fed poodoo."

"I can imagine Sir, if you'll excuse me." 4738 motioned the first squad forward. "Ok you grain maggots, remember you only get five shots today to reacquaint yourselves with the E-11s again. If I see any of you take an extra blast they're getting one of my size twelve boots to the back of the bucket. Get it?"

"We get you Sergeant!" The StormTroopers screamed in unison. They were an ugly mess. Every single trooper carried an individual melee weapon at their side, which gave them the appearance of pirates rather than the best infantry troopers the galaxy had ever seen. They had earned the right to carry the weapons during the Battle of the Abandoned Hope, when they had fought up close and personal, with some of the meanest prisoners and Black Sun scum in the entire Empire. It had taken almost a week to get all of the blood and guts out of the platoon's armor and body gloves.

At his command, the first ten troopers jumped down into the firing pits and patiently waited for their targets to appear. What they didn't know was that 4738 had arranged with the range control NCO to have the toughest cycle of targets pop up, which was available in the ship's computer core. Red lights above the range changed to blue and large aurebesh lettering proclaimed that the range was a weapon hot environment. 4738 watched as the men in the pits below him tensed up, as they scanned the range over open sights.

Suddenly a target sprinted across the firing range so fast that it was only visible for a second or two. Three blaster rounds flashed down the range, only to miss the rapidly moving target completely. After that surprise, target after target popped up, only to flop back down again less than a second later. 4738 counted rounds and signaled for the troopers to cease fire as soon as they had used up their small amount of tibanna. Those soldiers climbed out of the pits as another group of troopers took their places in the line.

Five minutes of furious mock combat later, and it was all over. "What the hell was that, Sarge?" HF-3105 complained through his bucket's external speakers.

His buddy 6166 also piped in, "Yeah Sarge, that was like being attacked by the entire Geonosian Bug Army, the way those targets were flitting about out there." 4738 tried to hide his laughter by shutting off his own helmet's speaker.
"That was to get you familiarized with your blasters again. What were the results, Lieutenant?" 4738 explained when he got a hold of himself.

"Thirty seven targets out of four hundred that were presented were registered hit by the range analyzing computer." Lieutenant Mahan eagerly reported.

"Right everyone against the wall in back of you. Move!" he bellowed and the entire platoon squeezed against the back wall. "That's three hundred sixty three laps down to the end of the range and back. One lap for every missed round. That should teach all of you to concentrate on your marksmanship. The range computer will count of how many each of you have done, so there won't be any cheating. Understood?"

"Yes Sergeant!" the troopers screamed, this time a lot less enthusiastically.

"Move!" The wall of troopers surged forward as they started their punishment run. 4738 slung his own blaster over his back and joined in. He was glad to see Lieutenant Mahan had accompanied himas well. The officer was lucky he didn't have to run in full stormtrooper armor, because after the first couple of miles the shin armor would really be digging into the tops of the trooper's feet, but he figured the officer boots Mahan was sporting couldn't have been all that comfortable either.
At one point they ran alongside of each other to keep pace. Around them several of the troopers were still sprinting and showing no sign of slowing down, while others were already showing indications of fatigue. It was time to get these men back into the gym and into shape he thought, and started going through a morning routine of physical training he would startup soon.

"When do you think we'll get more tibanna, Sarge?" The officer asked him after they hit the far wall and started their journey back to the starting wall three hundred meters away.

"I don't think it'll be anytime soon Sir. This stuff we got today was meant to go up to the turbolasers in the main batteries. The Captain was just doing us a favor by giving us five shots for the 9,700 StormTroopers onboard." 4738 figured.

"That's not including the Navy Troopers." Mahan added.

"Right them too. After Halser does some successful tests with the big guns the other starships in the fleet will start screaming for their own supply of the new tibanna from that gas giant."

"I heard it could be a few more months before they get production going hard enough to provide enough tibanna stock for all the infantry blasters in the fleet." Mahan had channels into scuttlebutt that 4738 didn't as an NCO. "We should be moving the entire fleet into the inner system here shortly, because I've been thinking that the Admirals are more concerned with fueling the fleet at the moment than they are getting enough tibanna for everyone.

"You could have a point Sir, but we might get some sooner than later if what I heard about the Insertion uncovering some kind of hidden enemy base on another planet in the inner system is true." 4738 sounded hopeful. From what he had heard, the atmosphere of that same planet couldn't support Stormtroopers for very long, so it would probably be a mission for zero-g assault troopers or EvoTroopers this time.

"I've seen the reports those TIE/rc fighters sent back. It's not that big a base. More like a squad sized listening post or OP. One blast from a star destroyer's main turret should end them quickly enough." The lieutenant stated as they hit the wall and turned back around to repeat their journey. "I think it's odd that there haven't been any attempts to contact this new civilization. Everyone is already referring them as the enemy, and all I hear about is what type of covert recon we're planning on doing against them."

"There's a reason for that Sir." 4738 had been in the service for much longer than Mahan, and had figured out how the fleet thinks many years ago. "First of all we're at an extreme disadvantage out here. We've barely got any fuel or blaster gas to speak of, a bunch of starships took damage during the big jump including this one, and we've got slave uprisings taking place all over the fleet. I know those have mostly been put down, but I'm sure they scared the crap out of command for a bit. Second the Fleet Admiral had bitten off more than he can chew. He's got refueling operations, gas mining operations, Moff Culter screaming about terraforming something or another, Moff Kuat yelling about getting all his research going again, and I've heard he wants to start up that mobile shipyard he's got in his squadron."

"So why should that bother the Fleet Admiral?" Mahan asked.

"He doesn't have enough slaves to deal with all the projects that are starting up, and he needs to keep the Moffs happy or there's going to be a mutiny and he knows it. So it can be seen as lucky that we just entered an unknown system where there may or may not be a planet with several billion beings on it."

"He's also lucky Grand Moff Tarkin stuffed this fleet to its gills with so many legions of troops. You see things in a very clear light Sarge, for a Stormtrooper." Mahan commended him.

"We're all not the 'do or die' types, as officer training may have led you to believe. Sir." 4738 explained.

"You really think there would be a mutiny?" Mahan asked sheepishly, as if he somehow doubted stormtroopers could shoot an imperial officer in the back.

'Oh, there's already been some grumblings Sir, there always is with the troopers. It could get worse if the Fleet Admiral keeps us couped up like some Hutt's Rancor, but give us some tibana and something to blast and we're as happy as a Kowakian monkey-lizard." He watched as two troopers collided in the narrow confines of the range.

"I'll deal with this Sir." He split off from Mahan and colorfully scolded the two troopers to get moving again or else he'd add more laps to their total. Both men hurried off with more enthusiasm than he was sure either of them actually felt.

4738 ran for a while on his own. The lieutenant ran alongside groups of troopers encouraging them forward like a good leader should, while his own men avoided him out of fear and respect for the grizzled old platoon sergeant. He wondered to himself what the presence of an enemy planet within this system meant for the corps. He had no doubts that if a war was coming down the hyperspace lane the Stormtroopers would be in the thick of it. They'd win too, of that he was absolutely positive of, especially if this new enemy was as primitive as everyone thought.

He had mainly fought against enemy forces that were somewhere along the same technological level as the Empire, but he had never had any doubts that they could ever be defeated, especially if the technological advantage remained on their side. He had a sudden image of Stormtroopers being defeated by spear throwing midget aborigines and had to laugh.
No, he convinced himself as he continued to run, the Stormtrooper Corps can beat anything you threw at it. With that 4738's day looked a little brighter.

Ready Room 6, Conning Tower, Imperial II-class SD Quill

"Happy birthday Jawa!" Her father greeted her as he burst into the room. He was followed by two senior commanders from his own personal staff. She recognized Commander Dual as the Quill's Operations Officer, but even though she had never met the other man she was sure he was the new Chief of Fleet Intelligence Commander Yutu. His reputation for professionalism and his discovery of a nearby inhabited planet had already spread throughout the crews of the crippled Tarkin's Fist.

She snapped to attention and crisply saluted her father. "Thank you Sir." She responded properly, something her father sometimes forgot when they were in the presence of other officers and the enlisted men. As the Fleet Admiral, he was responsible for the well being of over two million servicemen and a few more million civilian private contractors as well as the lives of over half a million slaves and prisoners, still she wished he wasn't so lax in discipline around her.
He hugged her and kissed her cheek. Phasma made sure he caught the look she gave him, that telegraphed the embarrassment he was heaping upon her. "Second Lieutenant Yos, you have already met Commander Dual, but may I introduce our fleet's stellar Intelligence Chief, Commander Yutu." He motioned to the officer who Phasma guessed couldn't have been out of his twenties yet. She'd heard rumors that he had been close with the Grand Moff, which explained his youthful appearance compared to his senior rank.

"It is a pleasure to meet you both." She greeted them as she shook each of their hands. Both men seemed to be searching her face for answers that she couldn't even determine the questions to, yet. They acknowledged her, and then took their seats in front of her father, who stood behind a small podium at the forefront of the conference room.

"I called you three here to present my views on the current status of Tarkin's Fist." Her father started his address. It was odd to see how at ease with command he was. He had served with Dual for years and Phasma was her father's daughter, but he had only known Yutu for little over a month and he was already completely comfortable around the young officer. She made a mental note to apply that in her own command demeanor when her time came.

"As you two commanders already know, through recent reports that have only been circulated at the top levels within the fleet, it has become highly evident that we're completely lost." Phasma tried to suppress a gasp. Her father had always seemed omnipotent, and for him to get his entire command lost was almost inconceivable to the eleven year old.
"To say the very least." Dual agreed with him.

"Yes, quite right. New evidence is starting to point out the possibility that we have actually left the galactic disk that we have always called home. Science teams throughout the fleet are currently looking for our home galaxy."
"Any luck so far?" Phasma asked. Her dreams of seeing the great planets of the home galaxy were slowly fading away. She suppressed her shock in front of the gathering of superior officers.

Commander Yutu fielded her question. "We have already investigated a nearby galaxy 2.5 million light years away by electrotelescope, but we have discovered a far more likely suspect at a distance of three million light years from us. Without hyperdrive capabilities we estimate the travel time to be just about three thousand standard years at sublight speeds to reach it."

"The hyperspace anomaly has always prevented such travel beyond the galactic disk. How did we wind up here in the first place?" Dual asked this time.

"That is the million credit question, Commander." The Fleet Admiral responded. "But not the one I called you together for." The listeners leaned closer. "As it stands I am the senior commander in this particular theatre of operations. I have been granted command over three slippery Moffs who would like more than anything like to turn this small system into their own personal kingdoms. The chain of command is something that must be respected or it's entirely possible that we could not only suffer a mutiny, but an all out civil war as well. My intentions are to keep the Moffs as dumb and happy as possible. Culter wants to terraform and Kuat wants to research every possible form of science. The most I can tell about Seco is that he wants to keep some semblance of the Empire as well as eliminate any threat he can perceive."

"These are all reasonable requests Sir." Phasma pointed out, but felt ashamed that she may have spoken out of turn.

"Exactly and I can agree with much of what they are asking for. My only problem is shortages. We are short on fuel, power, and tibanna gas for the blasters, and if we don't get greenhouses and clone livestock soon we'll be running low on food in a little over a year, but the one thing I'm completely short of is manpower. The slave army we have brought along with us is completely inadequate for all the projects we will soon embark upon. Luckily for us we have come across a planet that may make up for our shortfalls."

"Do you plan to invade Sir?" Yutu asked.

"I plan on giving them the chance to submit in the name of the Empire."

"Not much of the Empire out here Sir." Yutu asked.

"Correct that is my point. The troops need to be paid, food needs to be raised, and homes have to be built. In order to maintain some semblance of order, I have moved to seize most of the precious metals aboard the fleet as well as use the minerals we're finding in the asteroid belt, to start to free and pay the prisoners that aren't violent offenders. They shall be the basis of the society that Tarkin intended for us to build. Our own dependents shall of course be the elite class and shall be granted privileges accordingly." Dual seemed to be nodding in agreement and Phasma remembered the man had a large family somewhere onboard a transport nearby. "The next phase shall be the invasion of the fourth planet in the system in order to build a secure base of operations, as well as provide land for agriculture and livestock needs. These should keep Culter busy as I've allowed him to go forward and do a deeper study of that planet. He shall have unlimited access to that world in order to terraform it to our needs as quickly as possible. Kuat shall also move his mobile driveyard into orbit around that planet and start laying the keels of the next generation of warships he is currently designing, this will essentially give jobs to the skilled labor force amongst the slave population. Seco shall be sent to the third planet along with my squadron for the third phase, which we won't get into here."

The Fleet Admiral pointed to his daughter. "I am at this time, relieving Second Lieutenant Yos here of her duties within the
training section and assigning her to the Operation's staff." Phasma turned to Commander Dual who offered a friendly smile.

"Welcome aboard." He offered.

Her father continued. "I am reinstating the Bureau of Operations on a fleet wide level with oversight from you two commanders, and in direct subordination to myself. Budgetary concern will be drawn out of both your departments as the two of you are already responsible for your sections on a fleet wide scale. As of this morning both of you are promoted to Captain senior grade. Congratulations." Dual and Yutu shook hands and slapped each other on the back. I am assigning my daughter as the head of the Diplomatic Services or DiploServe." Phasma couldn't believe her ears. This was a major command and she wasn't even in her teens yet.

"Other officers from around the fleet will be assigned to fill the other five divisions of the Bureau." Admiral Yos added.

"I already have several suggestions Sir, which I would like to see in some of those spots." Captain Yutu interrupted.

"As do I" Captain Dual added.

"I'm sure you do Gentlemen. I'm sorry Phasma, but you will probably be the most junior officer in the Bureau for quite a while."

"That fine Fa… Fleet Admiral. Thank you for this honor." She wasn't about to chide her father for the obvious favoritism.

"Yes my pleasure. I have already uploaded a list of your duties and responsibilities to your personal datapad. I suggest you study them as soon as possible and report to your two new bosses here." Her father gestured at the two new captains who were whispering a few names to each other. Phasma recognized some of the names as officers in the fleet that were known to be movers and shakers.

"Gentlemen, I will leave you to discuss your suggestions. Please have them for my approval at the next weekly Admiral's briefing. I would like this to be up and going before I meet with the Moffs this week, and Lieutenant Yos I will need you present for that as well."

"Yes Sir, The briefing with your staff or the Moffs?" She asked.

"The Moffs of course. As head of DiploServe they fall directly under your responsibility. Now if you would join me I have something else for you." He turned to Yutu and Dual who were both starting to stand as her father stepped from behind the podium. "Captains." The three men exchanged salutes.

Her father held out a hand and helped Phasma to her feet. He draped his arm around her shoulders as they left the ready room. "Dad, I'm an officer. This could look like fraternization." She whined in the voice that she knew her father never could resist.

"Who's going to court-martial me, the Emperor?" he laughed.

"Not much of an Empire out here." She echoed Dual's comment from earlier.

"Isn't that the truth. You know this new assignment does not get you out of attending the Academy. That will be one of our top construction priorities while Moff Culter is terraforming the fourth planet. Besides you, there are thousands of school age children scattered throughout the fleet that will be sent there."

"And I'll have to be valedictorian right?" she poked her father in the ribs as they walked along.

"You'll do fine. I have no doubt, but don't let my expectations stress you out. You are a brilliant young woman all on your own." She blushed at her father's earnestness.

"Thank you again for the assignment Dad." She responded.

"Let your old man spoil you every once in a while Jawa. By the way I still haven't given you your birthday present." His voice betrayed a trace of excitement, and she suddenly found the two of them standing before a large transpiristeel viewport facing the inner part of the system.

"I thought the new position was my present?" she asked.

"No, that is actually something I know that you will excel in. Secretly I don't believe the Moffs will be able to resist your charms, but let's just keep that between me and you. I have gotten you a present that reflects your grandeur." He gestured out towards the asteroid belt that was catching the light from the distant star at the center of the system. The thousands of rocks appeared as a sea of sparkling gems in the emptiness of space. "From here on in every chart and nav computer across the fleet it will reflect that Tarkin's Fist has officially dubbed this nav point in space as the Phasma Belt. I would have given you the stars themselves if I could Jawa." She felt a tear forming and her father hugged her and held her close as they both watched the starlight sparkle across the Phasma Belt.
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Command Bridge, Imperial I-class SD Insertion, Approaching Phasma Belt

Major Eritech had gotten used to the steady thrumming of the starship's reactors once again, and on several occasions had found that the small white noise helped him sleep better at night. He wondered if complete and utter silence would ever be the same, or whether it would terrify him for the remainder of his days. He wasn't actually the brave starship officer he pretended to be, since the first possibility of being stranded in the outer reaches of space without the embrace of the Empire had shaken him to his core.

Now the attitudes and opinions of his surrounding officers seemed to be one of moving ahead and establishing a new home here in this system, when they should have been looking for either a way back to their own galaxy or a way of reinstating the Empire where they were. So many of them seemed to be turning their backs on Palpatine that Eritech thought it was a crime they still called themselves members of the Imperial Navy. He had done some introspective thinking on his own behalf and had come to the conclusion that as the only member of the ISB, that he was aware of in the fleet, that it was up to him to find his own way to best serve his Emperor. His best idea to do that would be to find some way to destroy this traitorous nest of vipers, but he still hadn't found a way to incinerate the entire fleet at once.

He was currently at the helm under his guise of Bridge Commander Volt, guiding the star destroyer Insertion towards the new mining colony being constructed in the outer portion of the asteroid belt. He thought of the new name that had been given to the collection of rocks and space debris and wondered at the levels of nepotism that were obvious in the Fleet Admiral. The supreme commander of the fleet had become somewhat of the symbol of all of Eritech's anger and frustration.
Off of the port stern the refining starship the Carbon sailed under the Insertion's protection. She had been ordered to move closer to the mining facility in order to save time and fuel in the refueling effort. The Insertion was to remain on station, with the extremely low amounts of tibanna it had on board, in order to maintain some sort of protection. The Quill would lead the rest of the fleet through the Phasma Belt sometime over the next couple of weeks. Supposedly the Admiral wanted to make some type of large show of force when they entered the inner system. The nice thing about this particular duty was the Insertion was suddenly first in line at the pump. While fuel carriers would still be making runs to the starships of the fleet the Insertion would be getting daily deliveries until they were almost to fifty percent capacity, something none of the other starships nearby could even come close to claiming.

Captain Halser chose this time to stroll onto the bridge deck. As usual the deck officer greeted the captain and the two men exchanged pleasantries, while Eritech felt the hairs on his neck bristle from the lack of protocol. The Captain noticed Volt at the helm and came over to check on him.

"Steady as she goes Commander?" the superior officer asked with a grin.

"Yes Sir. The Carbon and ourselves should be on our assigned stations in just under an hour." Volt had gotten a little bit better at his helming and navigational skills in the past week, so much so that he hoped no one had picked up on his lack of starship experience.

"Good I have the bridge now. You can be relieved for other duties." Halser informed him.

"Sir?" Volt was confused. Had he done something wrong?

"This morning we received a packet ship from the flagship. There are several officers questioning crewmen and officers about the events of the big jump. They're in conference room 12 in the officer billet deck." Eritech's face must have given something away. Halser's eyes squinted as they searched his features for any signs of treason. "It's not as bad as it sounds. I just came from my own interview with them. It was actually more of a twenty minute chat, but they do want to speak to you, as our ship's log shows you were manning the helm while the slave rig was in effect."

"That is true Sir." No reason to give himself away. "I shall report to them now Sir. At your leave, Captain."

"You have it. I'll see you back on the bridge on your next shift." Halser dismissed him and turned and started chatting with the CPO that had been manning the helm along with him. Eritech quickly left the bridge, but slow downed to think of a likely cover story. He knew he couldn't dismiss the investigators nor could he go to some other area of the ship, as the warship's security devices would record wherever he went on board. No, he told himself, they would know if he didn't go straight to the conference room, and that would be an overt sign of guilt that he wasn't prepared to show just yet. Well he wasn't going to hurry to them, and he wasn't going to make their jobs easy. At his slow pace he had plenty of time to review the counter-interrogation techniques that had been taught to him by the best instructors in the ISB.

He arrived at the gray doors ominously marked CF-12 and contemplated his next few minutes. Normally his role was that of the other officers on the other side of the door. He recalled the countless traitors he had interrogated during the few years of service he had given his Emperor, and now that the roles were reversed it left an unpleasant knot within his guts. Eritech sucked in a large gasp of air and stepped forward as the doors slid out of his path.

Two stern looking officers sat at one end of the large conference room sifting through holoprojection images and their own datapads, which Eritech was convinced, were filled with hundreds of condemning files about him. "Bridge Commander Volt reporting as ordered." He stated as he snapped to perfect attention and fired off his best salute. The two men barely responded, while clearly lower ranks than he was, they showed the characteristic contempt of most security men. Maybe

Volt hadn't been the only ISB man to make it through the big jump, he thought.
"Have a seat Commander." The lead man gestured to a chair that sat in front of them. Volt noticed they seemed to be a lieutenant commander and a major, so by the chain-of-command they should be subservient to him, but he also knew the chain-of-command had nothing to do with criminal investigations.

"My name is Lieutenant Commander Travles of the Immobile and this is Major Just of the Flood. We both represent the Bureau of Operations within Tarkin's Fist." The senior man introduced them.

"Bureau of Investigations, of Imperial Intelligence, for a second there I was sure I was going to be facing the Imperial Security Bureau?" Volt made to sound relieved, but he was instead deathly frightened to find himself in the clutches of

ISB's sworn enemy within the armed services. There would be nothing greater for these two men than to uncover him as a secret undercover ISB spy for the boys in white to slowly take apart.

"The ISB's presence has been cleansed from this particular sector fleet. All security concerns will be going through the Bureau from now on." Major Just informed him.

"Sounds good, and what division do you guys represent?" Volt asked, seeking answers to his own questions.

"That is on a need to know basis Commander." Travles cut him off. Volt figured right away that they were members of either the Surveillance Division or worst the Renik Division, or counter-intelligence as it was more commonly known as. If that's what he believed they were, then their ultimate goal would be to ferret out him as a mole or saboteur. "First thing we need to know is where you were during the events of what is commonly becoming known as the 'Big Jump'."

"I was manning the helm of the Insertion. We were in formation with the rest of Fleet Admiral Yos's Subterrel Sector Squadron on course to the maw formation in the Kessel Sector." He made sure to keep his answers as proper as he could, while at the same time giving nothing away.

"How were the nav computer and slave rig device performing aboard this vessel?" the major inquired.

"Well within normal operating parameters. I don't recall having any of those odd fluctuations I've heard took place on the Quill." He tried to distract them with another lead. "The Slave Rig started up just fine and I never noted any deviation from our calculated flight plan, even when we arrived in this system the Insertion was stilled perfectly in formation with her sister warships."

"That has all been confirmed already. What was the status of the nav computer and the slave rig once you came out of the big jump?" Travles asked. "Were you also knocked unconscious as was the norm throughout the fleet?"

"Yes, I was, and I really have no clue how long I was out for. I do remember I had a splitting headache for a couple of days afterwards."

"As did I." Major Just added. "It has been discovered that headaches and migraines were a universal side effect throughout Tarkin's Fist during the big jump."

"The nav computer was completely demolished." Volt continued. "We found pieces of it scattered all over the bridge, while the slave rig was mostly intact, but had suffered damage as well. The nav computer showed signs of fire and explosive force yet it had been cool to the touch as if its destruction had occurred long before anyone investigated it."

"What kind of damage?" They asked together.

"Internal burns from its wiring mostly, as well as structural damage from the nav computer's destruction." Volt reported. He still hadn't located the NavComp's hiding spot on board, and was starting to suspect that it had already been transferred somewhere else within the fleet.

"You suffered no injuries from this?" Travles narrowed his eyes. "In your report you were standing next to the nav computer and slave rig, yet the slave rig was damaged and we have no reports of you sustaining any wounds in the incident."
Volt paused for a split second, he had never even thought about that. "The only conclusion I can come up with, is that the destruction of the nav computer happened sometime after the crew's incapacitation as well as the loss of power to the inertia dampers."

"Are you saying you floated away before the NavComp blew up?" Major Just asked incredulously.

"I'm just stating that it is one possible answer, Major." Volt hoped a reminder of rank would delay this line of questioning. The Lieutenant Commander must have been thinking along the same lines.

"Where were you stationed at before you started your service aboard the Insertion, Commander?" Travles asked.
His false service record had long been memorized, well before he started his infiltration of Tarkin's Fist. "I started at the Academy at Carida where I also attended the Imperial College as well. My first assignment was to the Hekver IV a Lancer-class frigate in the Dolomar Sector. After that I served aboard my first star destroyer the Fog, for two years in the Yaga Minor System. I was the starship's quartermaster during that time. I saw action in the Orinda System on the Imperial I SD Minefield, before emergency orders arrived directing me to take over Bridge Commander duties of the Insertion in the Horuz System." He reported happily. The only evidence of any of those lies was located in the fleet records and service records that they had aboard before the big jump. There was absolutely no way for them to verify any of the information he gave them with communication from the Empire being completely lost.

"It is a worthy record for one who ascended to your current position, so early in your career." Just replied, and Volt tried to ignore the sarcasm he felt was dripping from the other man's mouth. Obviously they weren't impressed.

"Well it is if you want a command of your own one day." He explained.

"With our current situation it will be quite some time before any of the senior command steps down. Could this have been done as a means of harming Captain Halser perhaps?" Major Just dug in an accusation.

Volt saw the slip up for what it was. "First of all if I am being accused of anything I would like the representation of the fleet's Judge Advocate Office. Secondly, if I follow that line of reasoning, I also plotted to take us to this unknown system where we would all slowly die as our supplies gradually ran out. Not exactly, the type of command I would be eager to undertake." Volt felt anger in his voice and tried hard to make the investigators think he was offended and surprised by their questioning.

Travles stared daggers into the other officer. "That is not what we are saying Commander at all. If you need to know you are only a person of interest in our investigation," He lied, and Volt knew it at once. "And that is only because of your new arrival within the fleet as well as your location at the time of the disaster." Travles explained. Volt knew that was enough to make him a major suspect in the case, and if ISB was handling the query he would have already received a blaster bolt to the rear of his skull, and his family would have been charged the price of the tibanna gas.

"That's all nice and wonderful, but I request any further questions go through my JAO representative." Both men had a look of total frustration upon their faces, and Eritech knew from being in their place many times before the aggravation they were feeling. He was also keenly aware of the next steps they would take to find out more about him. "Gentlemen." He said as he rose from his seat. He stuck his cap upon his head and spun around to face the door.

"Commander, we will be in touch. I hope you have a change of heart about cooperating with our investigation." The Lieutenant Commander from the laughable Bureau of Operations told his back as he reached the door. Eritech paused for just a second before leaving the room. The doors slid shut behind him.

"Well that could have gone better." He muttered under his breath as he put as much distance as he could between the investigators and himself.


White House Ready Room, NAU, Lesser Continental Mass, Third Planet

"We got em Mr. President." The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs reported. "Delta Force and Spetnaz are both reporting the joint strike task force over the Arctic ice cap has a confirmed killed on the last of the robots that touched down on Earth."
There was applause and congratulations to be heard all around the room. It had been a trying week for the Chief Executive. The entire month had been one with very little sleep, as he listened to reports from all around the globe of beings from outer space attacking Earth.

The attack had started with an alert from NORAD that nine objects had entered the atmosphere late last weekend. At first he had thought it was a rocket attack from the Chinese or possibly the Union of the South which had been eerily familiar of the last war. It had turned out to be much stranger than that. Nine war machines were confirmed to have been launched by the odd alien fleet near Jupiter and had crossed the solar system at an ungodly speed.

Two of the craft had landed within the borders of the North American Union and he had ordered his forces to make contact with the machines. As soon as his first soldier had approached one of the infernal devices around Mexico City the thing had opened up on the poor boy. It then took most an armored brigade and several hours of street fighting before a lucky tank round had taken the thing down, and even then there were reports that the thing had blown itself up. The one that tore up Idaho they had gotten lucky with. After the death and destruction it had left in its wake in Idaho Falls, Delta Force and the National Guard had managed to destroy it in the forests of Yellowstone.

"They've got footage of that guy blowing himself up in Iran to take out one of the machines. It's all over the internet Sir." His National Security Advisor informed him. There had been too many deaths and media coverage to cover this up. As he spoke there were FBI agents at every space observatory in the Union trying to suppress any information from leaking out, but word was getting around that something else was in the system.

"How'd the rest of the world fare?" He asked.

"Confirmed kills in European Union (They're once again stating we could have avoided this), Iran, China (Lots of casualties there), Russia, the Pacific (Though no one can confirm that kill as the water was pretty deep where it went down), Brazil (Who of course is saying it's a NAU killing machine), and now the last one in the Arctic Ocean." The Joint Chief told him.

"Ok, what do we do when the next wave comes down?" He asked the finest military minds of the NAU.

"We've got people testing out the alien alloys at MIT and the Jet Propulsion Laboratory." The CIA director told him. We haven't been able to get anything yet from the robots as their self destruct mechanisms knew exactly what they were doing. The guys we have looking at it are saying its light years beyond anything we currently have though."

"We have determined that they must have been scouts or probes of some sort." The NSA Director broke in. They searched out some pretty vital areas and they were broadcasting on that super signal of theirs almost nonstop. That's why coordination was so difficult for our forces whenever they were close to a target."

"Their fleet is using the same type of communication gear Mr. President." This time it was the NASA Chief who spoke up. "We've started to triangulate signals emitting from a Mars orbit as well as the ones already in the asteroid belt and Jupiter's orbit."

"My God!" The President of the North American Union exclaimed, "They're coming closer."
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AT-AT Ready Rack, Attack Hanger, Imperial I-class Insertion, Phasma Belt

The hanger was getting a bit crammed, SF-4738 thought as he made sure his platoon stayed somewhat together. When they had been ordered to report down here, he had figured it would just be his own company, but now he was seeing troopers from other battalions as well as the Armored Corps, Naval Troopers, and even Imperial Marines. Praise the Emperor for the fact that the armored assault doors were closed or someone would have been bumped out of the docking shield.
He stood on the giant footpad of an AT-AT in the ready position in the armor ready rack and peered over the sea of white helmets, mixed with small pockets of black where the naval troopers congregated. On the far side of the hanger near the main TIE landing bay was a raised dais of some sort with around fifty officers milling about at its base. With that much brass in attendance 4738 was glad he blended in near the back of the crowd. He figured his platoon leader, Lieutenant Mahan, must be up there somewhere.

A huge Imperial Banner was draped behind the stage so that it covered the entire far wall, and so that one couldn't peer at the TIE racks behind them. Several HoloProjectors had been set up along the walls of the hanger on all sides, and 4738 made sure he had a good view of one of them as well as the dais in the distance. The only three stormtroopers that he allowed to share his spot on the AT-AT's foot were the platoon sergeants from a few of the other platoons within his own company. The grizzled veteran troopers greeted each other and wondered who's fierfeking idea it was to brief the entire legion at once and onboard a starship on top of that. While the four veterans traded stories and scuttlebutt, the hanger was filled with the low roar of thousands of troopers conversing with their comrades. 4738 wasn't in charge so he could just sit back and watch how this all played out.

Suddenly the Command Sergeant Major of the 395th StormTrooper Legion marched in front of the stage. "Ten-Hut!" he screamed, and was rewarded with the noise of thousands of men in plastoid armor snapping to attention. The four sergeants were careful not to knock each other off of the foot as they all turned and assumed the correct stance. On another foot across from them were six troopers who knocked two of their number off when the command was given. 4738 was glad they weren't any of his men or they would have regretted it.

A lone officer strolled onto the stage from its rear, and 4738 could identify General Patreous only with the macrobinoculars within his helmet. The General was in his military finery from his row of medals upon his chest to the Dewback riding crop he still carried from his days at the Academy. 4738 could even make out the General's legendary Japor Ivory handled sidearm on his hip. He stepped to the front of the stage and saluted as the Imperial March continued to blare over the hangers PA system. He held that position until the anthem came to a rousing conclusion.

"Be seated." He commanded, and there was a huge shuffling noise as the men in the packed hanger tried to find room on the deck to sit. 4738 watched as hundreds of troopers removed their helmets to sit on so that they got a better view. His own perch on the foot was already high enough, so he kept his bucket on so he could continue to use the macrobinoculars. The General waited a few seconds before continuing.

"I want you to remember that no scum ever won a war by dying for their Empire. They won it by making the other poor dumb scum die for his Empire." The General didn't need any help from the speakers as his gravelly voice carried across the hanger. He seemed to pause for effect every few words as he spoke to his men. "All real troopers love to fight. All real men of the Empire love the sting of battle. When you were younglings, you all admired the champion Wuur marble shooter, the fastest runner, the big-league Limmie players, the toughest Teräs Käsi fighters. Imperials love a winner and will not tolerate a loser. Imperials play to win all the time. I wouldn't give a hoot in hell for a man who lost and laughed. That's why

Imperials have never lost a war, because the very thought of losing is hateful to Imperials. Now any Corps is a team. It lives, eats, sleeps, fights as a team. This individuality stuff is a bunch of crap. The bilious scum, who entered that stuff about individuality for the Satunda Evening HoloNews, don't know anything more about real battle than they do about farking. Now we have the finest food and equipment, the best spirit, and the best men in the Empire. You know, by the Emperor, I actually pity those poor scum we're going up against. By Palpatine I do. We're not just going to shot the scum, we're going to cut out their living guts, and use them to grease the legs of our AT-ATs. We're going to murder that lousy third planet scum by the bushel. Now some of you boys, I know are wondering whether or not you'll raise ship under fire. Don't worry about it. I can assure you that you will do your duty. This new planet of humans is the enemy. Wade into them! Spill their blood! Blast them in the belly!" He paused for moment.

"When you put your hand into a bunch of goo, that a moment before was your best friend's face, you'll know what to do. There's another thing I want you to remember. I don't want to get any commo saying we are "holding our position." We're not "holding" anything. Let these new humans do that. We're advancing constantly. We're not interested in holding on to anything, except the enemy. We're going to hold on to him by the nose and kick him in the rump. We're going to kick the hell out of him all the time and we're going to go through him like snot through a bantha. Now, there's one thing that you troopers will be able to say when you get back to imperial space. And you may thank Palpatine for it. Thirty years from now when you're sitting by your HoloProjector, with your grandson on your knee, and he asks you: What did you do in the Imperial service. You won't have to say: "Well I shoveled snot on Felucia." All right, now, you sons of droyk, you know how I feel. I will be proud to lead you wonderful guys into battle anytime, anywhere. That's all."

The General glanced over his shoulder and then slowly walked off the back of the stage. 4738 didn't know what to think. While it had been an inspirational and patriotic speech, it hadn't occurred to the sergeant that they were even at war. There hadn't truly been a major declaration of war since the Clone War, not that there hadn't been hostilities in the far flung corners of the Empire. It just wasn't the kind of stuff that made it on the evening HoloNews.

"That was a nice load of frak." One of his fellow sergeants stated. 4738 had trouble disagreeing. He'd heard speeches like that one almost monthly since his time in the corps, and he didn't miss them when he had gotten assigned to Tarkin's Fist and the 395th either. There was a low murmuring from the crowd of troopers around him as the men discussed the General's stump speech. It was disrupted by the presence of a fleet officer coming to the center of the stage in front of the massed troopers.

"My name is Major Standles, from the Signal Interception Station here on the Insertion." The man started his briefing, but this time he needed the assistance of the PA system to be heard. The HoloProjectors came to life, as 4738 snarled at some noisy stormtroopers nearby to shut it or he'd shut it for them. They obeyed.

"This is what we have so far from the reports from the Viper Probe Droids." 4738 vaguely recalled someone mentioning that they had launched several of them to scout out the inner planets, "A total of sixteen probes were sent into the inner system. Only the two that were sent to the fourth planet and one sent to the inner most planet are still transmitting data to the fleet. Natural causes destroyed four of the probes, but the nine that made planet-fall on the third planet in the system were all destroyed due to enemy action." Once again the murmurs of surprise crossed the hanger, even 4738 knew that Viper droids rarely attacked and only fought back when forced on the defensive. Somebody on that planet had shot at Imperial property, and they had shot first, he figured.

"We will be sending more detailed information to every officer from platoon leaders on up to brief you men more in depth, but for now this is just a general overview." The officer explained.

"So pay attention!" the Command Sergeant Major bellowed, his voice reached every corner of the hanger.

"Yes, well first of all, we are dealing with a human or humanoid civilization whose home appears to be the third planet. It goes by several names, and we haven't deciphered which one to apply to them as of yet. They have a small exploratory team or colony on their single moon, and another much smaller one on the fourth planet. These may be the basis for future colonization efforts on their part. Their atmosphere seems to be midlevel polluted and there is a low-level greenhouse effect taking place there. This may be because of their seeming reliance on gas turbine and primitive fuel-cell technology." There were several laughs around the hanger. 4738 couldn't blame them, these new humans couldn't provide a war, but were more likely to offer the opportunity for a massive slaughter.

"They also appear to be using highly advanced slugthrower technology. They have these weapons in all sorts of calibers from anti-personnel to anti-armor to anti-starship, though their capabilities of delivering them on target are somewhat limited to planet-side operations. Their small-arms fire was mostly ineffective against the Vipers, and most engagements with them were mostly one sided until these primitive humans brought up heavier weaponry. Eight of the nine Vipers were able to engage their self-destruct mechanisms, while the ninth was believed to be lost over one of the planets many oceans."

"That brings me to the planet itself. This world seems to have biomes of every classification and type. If and when we invade it won't be just SandTroopers or SnowTroopers, but will involve the efforts of the entire StormTroopers Corps. In this regard the Fleet Admiral has issued order TF-533ST, which states that in order to limit our own casualties the Corps is now authorized to utilize upgraded armor systems currently under development within the fleet as well as active and passive camouflage technology of the type that hasn't been seen since the Clone War." That was great news as far as 4738 was concerned. He always hated humping through the jungle in a bright white uniform that lit him up as a target for kilometers all around. As for the new armor, he reserved his judgment until he actually got a look at the new gear. His own HUD lit up to let him know he had a message from Lieutenant Mahan. The platoon leader had forwarded him the full report on the enemy's capabilities, and he passed it on to the three sergeants around him.

"Wish we could hurry this along so I could get a better look at this stuff." One of them said as a way to thank him. They talked though the commo in their helmets so that their men couldn't see their NCOs being disruptive.

"It won't be long now." 4738 guessed.

As if on cue, a Stormtrooper near the front yelled out. "When are we getting more blaster gas?"

"Yeah. I'd rather have a slugthrower than an empty E-11." A naval trooper added, and 4738 couldn't disagree with the sentiment. A supply officer jumped on the stage.

"Those concerns are being addressed. We need to protect the fleet first, which is why were still on the far side of Phasma Belt. When we have minimum levels of tibanna we are going to be moving on the fourth planet…" The officer got shouted down by angry Stormtroopers. One thing 4738 knew, was that if you wanted troopers of any sort to remain happy, let them blast something every now and then.

The rest of the briefing went much the same way, and 4738 only heard bits and pieces of what was being said. He got the impression that it would be several months before the corps was back up to normal operating standards when it came to tibanna. He was also pleasantly surprised when the intelligence officer reported the nine Vipers had killed or wounded at least three thousand of the enemy. Drawing first blood was always a good tactical move in 4738's book.

He watched as men filtered out of the back of the hanger, and a high ranking Bridge Commander was calling for the officers to take control of their men near the stage. He flipped his commo over to his platoon net and ordered his men to dismiss themselves and make their way back to the billets. He watched as several of his men who had their helmets on motioned to the ones who had taken theirs off, to dust off from the hanger. He said his farewells to his fellow NCOs and made his own escape from the briefing.

The veteran sergeant didn't care if the enemy was human or alien, or if they had blasters or slugthrowers, or even why the Empire needed to attack them in the first place. All he knew was his boys would be the first ones into any fight, and what he needed to know was the best way to get as many of them back in one piece again.

Moff Culter's Executive Offices, Flag Deck, Tector-class SD Trapped, Approaching fourth planet

It was as if a giant red eye was staring through the Kuat of Kuat, as he stared at the planet steadily growing larger in the viewport in front of him. For some strange reason the world made him think of war and fighting, but thankfully Kuantus was a civilized man and had never raised a hand in anger throughout his entire life. Instead he was more than satisfied to design the instruments for others to carry out their own wars, but he oddly thought this planet ahead could be the greatest of muses for the fleet of warships and vehicles he was planning on creating. It was a lingering thought, and he reminded himself that the planet ahead was just a ball of dirt, and not some God of War that would let him in on the hidden secrets of war craft.

"It's not really entirely red you know." Moff Culter came up from behind and stood beside him at the viewport. Both men wore the imperial robes of their office, Culter carried two flutes of Alderaanian white wine which he offered one of to his fellow Moff. Kuat happily took it and gestured back to the approaching planet.

"I can see the presence of an ice cap on both of its poles, so it must have some kind of water, which should be a great boon for your efforts." Kuat suggested.

"Yes, the Viper droids haven't explored the ice caps yet to see the condition of the liquid there, but I have high hopes. What I was meant was that the color comes from a high proportion of iron-oxide in its soil, which so happens is excellent for our terraforming operations." Culter was very much a man like himself. Both men had dedicated their lives in the pursuit of scientific achievement and trying to change the galaxy into their own imagined view of what it should be. Somewhere along the line the Emperor had seen something in Culter that had propelled him to his current high rank within the Empire. While most beings in their old galaxy had never heard of the man, Kuat could name a dozen planets throughout the Empire that had been made habitable colonies due to him. If the Emperor had gone and turned those thriving colonies into formidable garrisons and fortress worlds afterwards then so be it.

"Iron-oxide will also be most helpful if the Fleet Admiral allows me to put my mobile driveyard in orbit here. The position is most desirable with its proximity to the fifth planets gases and the nearby Phasma Belt for ore." The new name of the asteroid belt stuck in his throat for a moment. His recent meeting with the new head of DiploServe had been alarming. The girl had quickly figured out which buttons to push and was able to get the Moffs to cooperate with the Fleet Admirals orders with a true Imperial flourish. It just was incredibly hard to deny the eleven year old anything, and if the Kuati didn't know better, he could have sworn the Admiral's daughter came from royal blood of some sort.

"I gathered that is the plan, why else would he have sent you along on the Trapped's shakedown cruise, if it wasn't to get a better look for ourselves of the site of our future endeavors." Culter assumed. "The planet truly is fascinating. It's slightly alkaline and contains chloride, sodium, magnesium, and get this even potassium."

"Potassium?" Kuantus almost choked on his wine. The mysterious eighth element was only found in laboratory conditions back in the Empire. Some rare forms of plant life synthesized it for nourishment in the inner rim, but the element had remained extremely hard to come across. "Are you positive it's Potassium?" he gasped.

"Yes it was quite a shock to me as well. It makes me wonder what kind of native crops we will be able to grow there, or whether will have to import some from the third planet. The Vipers there reported the element's presence there as well before they were destroyed. It seemed the native plant life was highly dependent on it for their own survival. I would have liked more information, but the damnable intelligence service kept tasking the probes to find military targets. It was quite irritating dealing with those people." Culter complained.

"I can imagine. I suppose they are the reason we're not landing on the fourth planet on this go around." Kuat asked.
"You are quite correct, but we have been given the go ahead to drop off a special package while we're nearby." Culter was being cryptic, but Kuat got his meaning well enough. He had seen the commando shuttle being prepped when he had come aboard the Trapped's tiny TIE landing bay. Why the Empire had ever built star destroyers without hangers in the Tector-class was beyond him. It had been a design that had been championed by his sister during her tenure as head of KDY.

"You'll have to get me some samples of this potassium when you have the chance," Kuat always maintained the best relations when it came to business, and Culter was one of the best allies he had in the fleet. "I would love to see its applications in some research I have underway, especially durasteel and armor experimentation."

"You'll have it. This planet ahead seems to have more of it than the entire Empire combined." Culter assured him.

"What about the atmosphere there. I here it's quite harmful. Will it hamper your terra forming efforts?"

"Not in the least." Culter started pouring himself another glass of the sweet wine. "My workers shall be clad in enviro-suits for the first six months while on the surface. By then most of our facilities shall be underground. The presence of heavy minerals shall guarantee my ability to pay the freed slave workforce that Admiral Yos is giving me. Within half a standard year we shall return to the surface and I shall give the workers from Tarkin's Fist grants of land, while at the same time managing a large labor force of newly captive slaves from the third planet."

"Interesting, what will your first priority be in getting the world to a habitable level?"

"Our first step will be to fire up the planet's magnetosphere, which should help thicken up the atmosphere a bit." Culter was starting to lose himself in his love of terraforming. Kuat recognized it in the man, because the same thing had happened to him about other subjects. "Through mining we shall pull oxygen from the soil and release it into the atmosphere, once the magnetosphere is a going concern again."

"Right, you wouldn't want those solar winds blowing away all of your hard work." Kuat interjected.

"Yes, we should also move the slaves from the Phasma Belt onto the planet to help with the mining effort, most of the ore will go to your driveyards and construction of civilian sectors and factories on the surface of the planet."

"I like that. We have several new classes of starship that we are preparing to build there."

"Oh really, I wasn't aware. Where was I. Oh yes after that our major concern will be heating the planet. We will start up several fluorine mines to release greenhouse compounds into the upper atmosphere to slowly raise the temperatures planet-wide."

"Are there any major foreseeable problems that you see arising?" Kuat realized that the other Moff was leaving out literally thousands of smaller details, but at least the other man wasn't explaining things to him as he would a youngling. Kuantus had witnessed many good scientists do that over the years, only to regret treating the Kuat of Kuat in such a manner.

"Interference from the population of the third planet, but their orbit is currently taking them around to the other side of the local star. You saw Yos's report on the fact that he doesn't anticipate any offensive action from them for a period of over almost two standard years?" Culter asked.

"I did, but I didn't see any mention of when Yos plans on carrying out attacks of his own. He's probably waiting to set this planet up as a staging area first." Kuat had actually come to that conclusion several weeks ago, but didn't feel the need to let the other Moff know that he was a few steps ahead of him.

"The only major problem I foresee is in dealing with solar radiation, but that should only be for a short period before we get the magnetosphere going again and the atmosphere thickens up a bit. It should be interesting to do that while the dust is blowing."

"Dust?" Kuat had no idea what the other man was talking about.

"Oh yes the planet has some of the biggest dust storms I've ever seen, and I've been to Tatooine. One of the Vipers drifted into a storm and we almost lost it. It took the droid almost three days to unclog all of its machinery and start transmitting again." Culter poured Kuat another glass. This truly was becoming a fascinating little side trip for Kuantus.

"Any idea what happened to the three vipers that were sent to the first and second planet?" Kuat asked. He gazed back to the center of the room where Niobe and Gage reclined with several of Culter's aides amongst huge plush sofas. They made pleasant conversation, but were ready to assist their Kuat of Kuat if the need arose.

"The two that were sent to the second planet were destroyed within minutes of entering that planets dense superheated atmosphere. They were either crushed from the pressure or melted, which is also what we believe happened to the one that was lost on the first planet. It's proximity to the local star must have fried the droid within a few hours. The surviving one is currently traveling on the night side of the planet as fast as it can to keep ahead of the planet's day side. It's actually not giving us a lot of data to go on and I heard Admiral Yos believes we'll lose it over the next few days as well." Culter in his thirst for planetary geography had evidently kept more on top of the probe's progress than he had. Maybe the man knew more about the possible enemy on the third planet as well. Kuat made a mental note to study them more in depth when he was returned to the Kuat's Might.

The planet almost filled up the entire viewport now. Kuat remembered they were taking a particular orbit to avoid some type of local shuttle on the far side of the orb below. Both men took a moment to study the majestic red planet and consider the possibilities that it represented for both of them.

Movement from the TIE landing bay caught his eye, and the Moffs watched as a tiny shuttle rocketed off towards the
surface below. Its thrusters became tiny glimmers of light as it approached the surface of the planet.

"Good hunting." Culter whispered, but Kuat heard him. He turned and clinked his glass to the other man's.

"Yes my friend. To good hunting." They both downed their glasses.
-----------------------------------------
Flag Bridge, Imperial II-class SD Quill, Fifth Planet Orbit.

The weekly briefings were starting to take on an air of routine, Yos suggested to himself, as he greeted the three Moffs and their Admirals. The Ploo Moff, Seco, had been the first to arrive, and had seemed to want to show up the Kuati Moff Kuat of Kuat whenever he got the chance, ever since the Kuati had succeeded in embarrassing the other Moffs with his miraculous arrival at the very first briefing, aboard his wizard solar sailor. Yos could admire the fact that Seco didn't want to be one-upped a second time.

The other two Moffs had barely made the meeting on time. Culter and Kuat had both been on a so-called 'fact-finding mission' in the inner system, and had only recently arrived due to some fancy maneuvering through the Phasma Belt by Culter's Admiral Bacara. As the flag officer entered behind his Moff, Yos got the feeling that the man had the most familiar face, but couldn't quite place it. He mentally reminded himself to check out the man's service record for the hundredth time, knowing full well that his hectic schedule would probably prevent him from doing so for the hundredth time as well. The man sat next to Admiral Hadrian from the Kuat's Might and the two of them started a quiet discussion about the Tector class of star destroyers. Yos remembered a time when the burden of command hadn't been so heavy, and he could take the time to enjoy a private conversation with a peer. Now he was afraid he had no peers.

As per custom, Commander Charge of Imperial Engineering and Procurement started off the meeting, but what usually was the dullest part of the briefing, delivered the best news of all. "Fleet Admiral we have achieved minimum fuel levels onboard every starship within Tarkin's Fist. It is now possible to move the fleet through the Phasma Belt," Yos was proud about how that designation was catching on, "and into the inner system. We should have enough left over for any emergency maneuvering we may have to undergo while in orbit there."

"How much longer before we can commence offensive operations against the beings inhabiting the third planet?" Moff Seco fired the first question of the meeting.

"Um, Sir," Charge stuttered, he always was more comfortable around engines than he was other beings, "That really is up to the Fleet Admiral, but we should have enough fuel for a sustained campaign in six months, but we won't have enough blaster gas from the fifth planet for another standard year. Our operations there, are only now coming up to optimal output levels."

"It sounds like you're stalling, Commander." Seco dug in, "Perhaps if I offered some of my own sector fleet's engineers to the operation, we can get production levels to increase at a much faster rate."

"I'm sure that won't be necessary, Moff Seco," Yos cut the man off. "Between the Ugnaughts and Commander Charge's engineers, we should be more than able to manage. We shall also have need of your engineers once we make planet fall on the third planet." He seemed to have startled the Moff, and Yos realized he may have jumped the blaster a bit quick. He needed to find the Moffs something to keep them occupied, or he was going to experience more than a few gripes at a briefing. "I am going to be utilizing you as my point man when we advance upon the enemy." Moff Seco conceded the point with a satisfied leer.

Commander Charge continued with his report on repairs and refueling. The fueling operation was going quite well in the asteroid belt, but it was also quite capable of transferring to the refining effort to the fourth planet. Yos kept eyeing Seco to judge how the man was taking the news that he would be leading part of the upcoming invasion. If there was an invasion, as Fleet Admiral he would most assuredly ask for surrender long before any attack would be made.
The operations briefing was conducted by the newly promoted Captain Dual. His report on the final warships in the fleet finishing their shakedown cruises with no major problems was a welcome relief. He also briefed everyone on the first commando mission that were currently underway, and the current status of the fleet-wide training operations that were ongoing. Yos jumped in as the man's briefing winded down. "Gentlemen, I am implementing Fleet Operating Order 110, which is to go in effect two standard hours after the conclusion of this meeting so that you may all have the opportunity to return to your own starships. This order states that Tarkin's Fist is hereby to move into orbit around the fourth planet of this system and establish a garrison as well as a colony upon its surface."

"Actually Fleet Admiral," Moff Culter interrupted him, "We won't be able to establish surface structures for some time, at least until we get some protection from solar radiation in place.

"Fine, either upon its surface or underneath its crust. Two Venators, the Charger and the Senate from my own squadron will remain in a defensive position around the gas mining facility here on the fifth planet. They will be joined by the Interdictor Immobile from Moff Kuat's fleet." The Kuati nodded his agreement from across the table, while Seco tried to hide his concern that none of his ships had been asked to protect the facility. Moff Culter just looked excited to finally get his hands on the fourth planet.

"The rest of the fleet shall assume a Friendly Hutt Formation for our passage through the Phasma Belt. I want those warships on the outside blasting any rock that gets too close to the fleet, and I want to be especially vigilant of any of these third worlders pulling a trick like a space-snipe while we're in the field. We still don't know what their full capabilities are, but we can't afford to let our guard down." He ordered the collected group. "Admirals, you have my leave to exit the meeting now and see to your warships. The Moffs will follow shortly." The Admirals did just that, with every man heading for his own shuttle to return to their own flagships as quickly as they could.

Yos motioned for the next officer to start his brief, and Captain Yutu stepped to the front of the room. "They're called Earthlings, as far as we have been able to discern from the few types that speak a rudimentary form of basic. Their planet is Earth evidently, or Earth 3, we haven't figured out if they use a numbering system, like our own, back in the Empire." The Intelligence Chief started.

"Earth? That sounds like something you'd name a clump of dirt." Seco interrupted.

"They probably do, that's what we do with lumps of our own home planets. We have almost every protocol droid in the fleet trying to decipher their signals." Yutu continued. "We also have picked up signs that they may know of our current position. The Viper droids certainly let them know we were in the neighborhood, but as of yet they haven't shown any signs of recalling their base on Earth 4, or their colony on the surface of their moon."

"They're probably waiting to see what our next move is?" Kuat suggested.

"Or baiting a trap." Seco added.

Yutu answered before Yos could. "From what we've gathered about their starship technology on our recent passes of Earth 4, we don't think they have much weaponry in space at the moment. Some of what we have discerned, is there seems to have been a major war in the past decade there. We haven't determined as of yet who it was between, but the most disturbing thing my station has come across is in broadcasts between parts of the larger continental landmass and one of the bases on their satellite moon. What we have uncovered is the name of the languages being used in the commo. It is decidedly not related to basic, but instead is something called Cantonese and over several broadcasts a related dialect called Mandarin." There was a collective gasp from the Moffs.

"Mandarin? Are they related to the Mandolorians?" Culter asked in a state of shock.

"We could have an entire planet full of Jango Fetts down there!" Seco panicked.

"We haven't confirmed that for a fact as of yet, nor did we see any evidence of it in the attacks the native Earthlings mounted on the Viper droids, but it is a possibility. We should be able to gather much better data once we move through the Phasma Belt, which should cut down on some of the levels of interference we've been getting. The Earth 3 and Earth 4 transmissions show no sign of lessoning. They are a pretty talkative bunch. One of the things they like to talk about, is how much our presence is disrupting their abilities to continue talking. Our probots evidently were able to interrupt the commo so badly, that they had difficulties coordinating attacks on them, and their base on Earth 4 has been out of contact with Earth for weeks now, due to our increased activity in the Phasma Belt." Yutu explained.

"We'll have to use that to our advantage when we attack. Unless these Mandos are bluffing, this would be just like them." Everyone had heard stories of the legendary separatist mercenary Jango Fett, and evidently his young orphan son Boba was starting to make a name for himself as well. A whole planet full of Mandolorians would eat Stormtrooper legions whole. Now the possibility of sending them an early message demanding their surrender was out of the question. The Mandos on that planet would see right through it and determine how weakened the fleet was at the moment. He would wait until the time was right, while at the same time nibbling at them in space and cutting them off from the rest of this new galaxy while he built up his own strength.

"They probably sent their worst blaster-fodder troops against the probots as a ruse." Seco added.

"Once again we haven't confirmed any of this information. I would like permission to take some prisoners as soon as possible?" Yutu asked.

"Granted, authorize capture orders to the commandoes on Earth 4 as soon as we make it through the belt." Yos ordered, and he knew his intelligence chief knew exactly who to give those orders to, as he had ordered those troopers to the surface himself, with the aid of Captain Dual. Evidently, his Bureau of Operations was off to an auspicious start.

"Gentlemen, I believe, we wish we would have had more time to debate on this, but I would really like to get the fleet underway after so much time sitting on our shebs. Moff Culter you are authorized to commence terraforming efforts on Earth 4, while you Moff Kuat are authorized to bring your Imperial mobile driveyard into orbit around that planet as well. You may lay the first keel as soon as you're ready and full research in every field is authorized as well. I know that has been a point of contention between us in the past, and I offer my apology." Kuat motioned with his hand to let him know it was space outside the hull. "Moff Seco prepare your starships, as you will be in charge of operations against their moon and the other two planets in the inner system for the time being." Each Moff seemed to have a smile of satisfaction as he ordered them into action. Each of them was probably used to being the one in charge, and he wondered if any of them realized how easily they had accepted the change in their status. Keep them happy and busy and they won't stab you in the back one day, he told himself.

"Gentlemen, our next meeting will be in orbit around the conquered planet of Earth 4. Travel safely and return to your starships. Earth awaits. Dismissed."
-------------------------------------------
Ceres, Phasma Belt, Between Earth 4 and Earth 5, Unknown Galaxy

Brakatak lead his small herd back to the portable pressurized shelters that had been erected near the new space tug port. He watched as a yellow CT-11 was on approach to the pad as they entered the small base. The miners around the Gran stayed grounded with the help of small reverse repulsers that they wore on their belts. While they still had to be secured by safety lines while mining the tiny devices allowed them some level of movement over the face of the asteroid.

A huge hovertruck transport rumbled by the long line of slaves returning from the mining field. The lumbering machine was full of the last ore to be mined from the large asteroid, and headed for the CT-11 to deposit its haul. Word had come down from some type of high command that this asteroid had been tapped out and was now only to be used as a housing base and collection facility.

That was fine with Brakatak, he'd had seen enough of this asteroid, and he'd always wanted to travel the galaxy even if it was one rock at a time. Above his head, a thirty kilometer chunk of asteroid drifted past his location at a distance of just over five kilometers, and already mining scouts were checking the piece over. Brakatak wondered if that geologist he had saved was one of them up there. The long line of slaves moved to the side of the rough path to let the transport get by them. Brakatak was surprised by the lack of guards along the route, but then escape was a form of suicide as the miners had only been given enough air supply to last little more than a day. They had to return to base every twenty five hours just to replenish their supply.

He glanced back over his shoulder to make sure Frip and the Firrerreon girls were still behind them. Several other orphans had joined his group over the past few weeks, and Ashlei had pointed out that it was Brakatak's size and friendly demeanor that had probably offered the loners some offering of safety amongst the lonely asteroids. Brakatak now led a herd that included a Sullustan, two little Utais, and a female Duros who claimed to have been a pilot for the Blood Ring Pirates. That alone had impressed Brakatak to invite her into their group. Brakatak hardly even noticed that the small group looked to him for leadership and protection. To him they were his friends and were quickly becoming his family.

The shift had been called to a halt several hours early and the small group of mining slaves had been called back to base early. Usually they would have been met by the next shift somewhere on the road, but today they had been met by nobody.

"It's kind of scary out here on our own." Keatly observed as shadows created by the distant sun created eerie shapes upon the landscape.

"Where are all the guards?" one of the Utai asked.

"They probably don't feel they need to guard us from escaping all that much anymore. If we escape we die, and they just replace us with more slaves they've got stashed on all those transports still in the fleet." Brakatak fielded the question. "Don't worry about it being scary. I'm the biggest thing on this rock and I'll watch out for you."

"We watch for Brakatak so he watch for us." Frip's voice cut across the commo channel.

"That's right, Frip." Ashlei added. The group approached the gates to the compound and Brakatak noticed that a forcefield had been erected since they had left for their shift. It didn't look as if it was pressurized, and Brakatak remembered hearing that those types were the most expensive and energy consuming, but this one looked like it could protect from meteor strikes well enough.

The guards were present again, as they manned a checkpoint at the entrance of the compound, and the big Gran noticed that some of them were armed with military blasters again instead of the normal hand weapons that he had grown accustomed to seeing them brandishing about. He wondered how many shots each of them wielded, as it couldn't have been much if the rumors about gas shortages he had heard were true. Enough of the guards still carried mean looking melee weapons though, so any thought of resistance was still a long ways away in his mind.

In all actuality, the guards on the asteroid had been some of the friendlier ones he had met in his years of captivity. One of them even greeted him by name as he passed by and several more nodded or gestured a friendly enough greeting as he approached. Most of the guards were directing the arriving slaves towards the central pavilion inside the inner compound, underneath the large landing pad that had been constructed for the CT-11s. Brakatak saw the large hovertruck transport unloading its cargo of ore at the top of the landing pad's ramp onto the CT-11 he had watched land earlier.

The eight of them crammed into a small airlock of the pavillion, which took a moment to pressurize before its inner doorway opened up to a scene of perplexion for the big Gran. The auditorium was full of slaves in their bright red enviro-suits who milled about in front of a stage where several Imperial officers and guards waited for the crowd to fully gather. Brakatak removed the helmet of his enviro-suit and breathed deeply of the stale processed air inside the pavillion's cramped atmosphere. He turned back to his herd who were all doing the same. They found a spot and enjoyed talking amongst themselves without the help of the electric sounding comlinks.

"I wish some food was being served at this little shindig." Brakatak complained.

"Me just happy, no have to work full day." Frip had a point, as anything beat working.

"If I could have your attention please! Excuse me we are about to start." An Imperial official announced from the stage, and the low murmur of the crowd died down. Another rather important looking official took the stage and addressed the stage.

"I am Lieutenant Commander Vorcles of Guard Force 537 or as many of you refer to me as simply the Warden. I come here today to extend the hand of friendship and offer you all a deal that could prove to be most lucrative to you all." Brakatak listened closer. "This mining facility is going public and is now under the sole private ownership of Fleet Admiral Yos and will be selling its mined product to the fleet. As such the Fleet Admiral is also offering your freedom in return for your service. The wages we are offering are fifty imperial credits per day." Not bad the Gran thought, not quite scoundrel's wages, but still not too shabby either. "Those of you that were torn from your families that are still aboard the fleet are free to return to them and your old status of slave or prisoner, with the apologies of the fleet commander. The guard force here will be reduced to shore up the infantry units that will be used in upcoming hostilities. The only remaining guards will be left here to protect the ore, and not to guard against escape. An addendum to this plan includes the offer to all human slaves, female and male, as well as near-humans to join the military forces of Tarkin's Fist." That sent shockwaves through the crowd. Brakatak could almost taste the revulsion in the Warden's mouth as he read the order.

"I guess this is an end to High Human Culture." He whispered to his group. He looked over at Ashlei and Keatly, as the only two near-humans in his herd he wondered what they would decide to do.

"As free beings you will start to receive pay tomorrow, but restrictions include non-unionization, and quotas being emplaced upon you. For benefits your housing and enviro-suits will remain company property; with no rent due, as well as possible stock options in the near future." The warden continued.

"They're going to have to set up a stock market first." Brakatak heard a guard leaning against the nearby wall tell a buddy of his. Brakatak wondered why they didn't just use the Imperial Stock Exchange on Imperial Center, like everyone else.
The Warden finished up his speech. "Those of you that are leaving report to the landing pad in six hours. Those of you that are staying and wished to be freed or join the service, report in the morning to the foreman and the new paymaster at the camp's gate." He turned and walked off the stage. An Imperial recruiter in stormtrooper armor took it next and started calling for all those near-humans and humans interested in enlisting to step forward. Brakatak ignored the man and turned back to his small herd.

"Well, what's everyone thinking?" he asked.

"I'm staying." The Duros stated matter-of-factly. They want near-humans, but the kind they really want are like the girls here." She gestured at the Firrerreos. "I'd rather stay and get paid than go back and rot in some hold onboard one of those cargo transports."

"Us too." The little Utais chirped in. "We work our whole life on Utapau and never see such grand wages. We save up we'll live like Pau'an when we return home." They seemed rather excited about the possibility.

The Sullustan was a different story. "I want to sign up. I'm sick of others telling me what to do, for nothing. Maybe they'll give me a job in supply or driving landspeeder repulsertrucks for the army. I doubt the stormtroopers will take me, but I'm going to give it a shot." Brakatak wished the man luck as he left their group and made his way towards the recruiter on stage.

"We're sticking with you, Brakatak." Keatly answered for the two Firrerreon girls. "You're the only safe thing we've found in all our time as slaves. We want to see where you take the herd next." Brakatak felt honored, but at the same time the mention of the herd made him wonder about Frekfrek and the rest of his Gran herd aboard the Manacle. True they hadn't always treated him as a full member and there were long periods where he was simply ignored, but they were still Gran. A Gran separated from his herd quickly went insane and took on deranged personality quirks.

And yet, Brakatak didn't feel as if he had become insane while he had been apart from his herd. Instead he had found himself becoming lost in the lives of his friends in his new smaller herd. He realized suddenly that he was a bull, and he must protect his family at all cost. That included making credits so they could someday make a better life for themselves. He was staying on this asteroid as well, and so were they.

He turned to his best friend, the little Ishi Tib that had been with him since the hold on the slave ship. Frip came from a society very much like his own. They called themselves a school and came from a fishy ancestor, but their values were very much like Gran society. Would Frip return to his school or would he take a chance on his new found family as well.

"I with Brakatak." Frip exclaimed and the big Gran picked him up and squeezed him in a bear hug.

"Let's go to the pub and celebrate. First round's on me." Brakatak announced as he started leading them to the airlock.

"We don't start getting paid until tomorrow." Ashlei pointed out.

"Well then first round's still on the Empire."

The group buttoned up their enviro-suits once again and started crossing the compound to the small pub that had been set up for the slave's use. Halfway across Keatly pointed to space. "Would you look at that?"

A thousand starships of all types were approaching and passing the asteroid. It was a glorious military procession. Brakatak knew his old herd was somewhere onboard one of those ships and silently wished them well on their journey. Many of the transports and cargo ships signaled with their running lights as they went on by, adding to the wonderment of the parade. He had heard of fleets this big during the outer rim sieges of the Clone Wars, but to actually see it with his own three eyes was truly awe-inspiring.

Frip seemed to be trying to count the numbers of ships that went past, but gave up after several minutes. A flash of lights showed where a large star destroyer on the periphery of the fleet blasted an asteroid to space dust when it had wondered too close to the fleet. Brakatak watched dozens of formations of smaller Lancer class frigates and TIE fighters race amongst the giant rocks of the Phasma Belt. His heart sang as he realized they represented the might of the Empire he was once again a citizen of.

"I wonder where they're going." His Durosian friend asked.

"Not too far, I hope." Brakatak answered. "We've got all their fuel."

Imperial II-class SD Quill, Polar Orbit, Earth 4, Unknown Space

Captain Timus Roblin loved the gentle pressing back into his jump seat and the crisp smell of ozone, as his starfighter launched off of the ready rack. Something in his mind would snap. And it was if he was suddenly more alert and most importantly, more alive.

The main landing bay of the Quill raced past in the blink of an eye. The rest of the Mynock Squadron raced after his TIE/In milliseconds later. Below the cascade of stars ahead, lay the white polar cap of the red Earth 4. Roblin had heard reports that it was full of some extremely rare element, but what had really caught his attention was a scuttlebutt that Moff Culter wanted to blast the ice caps below with the combined might of the entire fleet. That was a sight the TIE pilot hoped to see one day.

Their onrushing target would be visible in a few seconds, and Roblin tried to remember everything he had read in the report from the two TIE/rc pilots who had over-flown this particular target the week before. Mynock's orders were to prevent the enemy from making an escape and to test out the target's defense systems. Nobody quite knew what the target's capabilities were, as it hadn't taken the bait when the reconnaissance fighters had taunted it. The thought of the craft being able to out run Mynock Squadron was laughable. The TIE series was the fastest sublight craft in the known galaxy and from what he had learned of these Earthlings, was that they were still using gas turbine engines and rockets. He was more worried he wouldn't be able to maintain a low enough speed to keep in contact with the target. At least flight command had the sense to get a small amount of tibanna loaded up on each of his ten fighters. He wished they had more, but they had enough to discourage the target from getting too frisky.

"1-1, I have visual on the target." One of his men reported.

"Mynocks, switch over to squadron net." He waited a second before speaking again. "Good eye, Wampa. I see it too. Wampa, you and Zap come at the target from the port side. Tag, Last Place, and Gungan take the starbourd. Bear, Blink, and Teardrop, you guys push it and come around from the aft position. Striker, you and I are taking him head on. Boys when we get in place I want an Atom formation around the target. Shout out, the second the craft reveals any of its hidden defenses."

"Roger that, Bloodstripe." His panelman August responded.

"Aye aye, Sir." His men acknowledged his commands.

The past few weeks of constant training flights had honed the unit into a fine tuned fighting machine. Roblin had drilled his men in every fighting maneuver that August and he could think of. The new boys had gotten so good, that even Wing Commander Vertitas hadn't chewed him out all week. They had been scheduled to take on Krayt Squadron in a mock dogfight when orders to move the fleet through the Phasma Belt had come down from Fleet Command. Mynock flight had been ordered to stand down while most of the other squadrons provided fighter cover for Tarkin's Fist as it made its passage through the Phasma Belt. It had turned out that there wasn't a hidden pirate base or enemy fighters lurking anywhere in the asteroid belt, so the other squadron's mission had been for naught, while Mynock had remained fresh for this snatch and grab mission.
He watched on his flight computer as the elements in his squadron took up their positions for their own approaches to the

target. He didn't even have to give the order as every fighter knew when the others were in the correct position and all of them dove on the target at once. The Force Multiple Orbit formation or the "Atom" as it was more commonly called was used to trap an enemy. The enemy gunners wouldn't be able to track a target before another fighter swept past them going a different direction. If the gunners were droids the Atom usually fried their circuits. Each TIE/In starfighter raced around the enemy craft hoping to draw fire of some sort, but they were only rewarded for their efforts with stony silence from the enemy vessel.

Roblin pulled out of the formation and took up an over-watch position of the whole show. His men really did appear to be tiny electrons racing around the nucleus of an atom. He slowed his engines to a crawl and came about, so that he was facing what he took to be the cockpit viewport of the vessel. He watched as three apparently human shapes moved about inside the craft, and made the determination that it was some type of shuttle craft.

His flight computer indicated that the vessel was trying to communicate with him, but when he flipped over to the channel they were transmitting on he received nothing but static for his efforts. He had heard they used some pretty rudimentary forms of communication, so he wasn't entirely surprised. The Quill was a few dozen kilometers behind them and closing fast, besides the star destroyer was probably jamming the shuttles commo anyways. He reminded himself that he wasn't here to talk to these Earthlings, his orders were pursuit and capture and that was it. As far as he was concerned he was doing his job exceptionally well.

"They don't seem to have any weapons, Captain." August reported.

"I'm starting to get that feeling as well, Striker." Roblin answered.

"That doesn't make any sense, Sir. Who would send up an unarmed vessel into the Big Isn't?" Zap pondered over the net. His men were well on the way to becoming comfortable with their new commander.

"Yeah, pirates or those rebels the Emperor keeps talking about would get them." Wampa suggested.

"Maybe they've got a death wish?" Zap added. Roblin didn't think that was true. He had seen the unarmed probe they had captured over Earth 5, and had heard intelligence had detected another starship in the same class as this shuttle in orbit around their home planet's moon. They had to be hiding warships somewhere, because why else would they leave their home world and venture into space. They would just draw attention to themselves and their evident vulnerability. Roblin made up his mind to write a report on the subject when he returned to the Quill.

Thinking of the Quill seemed to bring the flagship into the current situation at exactly that moment. "Mynock flight this is ISD 1765 flight control, over."

"Flight, this is Mynock, go ahead." Roblin responded.

"Mynock, you want to start moving your fighters to positions along the enemy vessels escape vectors, we're about to engage the tractor beams."

"Roger, roger that Flight, moving to new positions, over." Roblin flipped between his two commo channels with the ease of a veteran. "Mynock, break off and take up position Gamma five Gamma."

"Aye aye Sir." First Lieutenant August responded for the entire squadron. Roblin rejoined his men as they took up their new formation. For a brief moment after the TIEs ceased their endless circling of the enemy vessel it seemed to engage its thrusters and started to turn its nose towards the inner system. Too little too late, thought the TIE pilot as he watched the enemy shuttle shudder a bit as the Quill's tractor beams ensnared it.

Roblin's subspace radar warned him of the approach of a TIE/bc that had been launched shortly after his own flight had taken off. He watched the bulky craft approach the captured vessel and remembered his own recent experience in one of the craft. As he watched how slow the other craft traveled he was glad he finally got the chance to be back behind the throttle of a starfighter instead.

He found the TIE/bc's combat channel and listened in as the boarding craft docked with the shuttle, over what appeared to be some kind of cargo bay slightly forward of the craft's dorsal wing. There was a moment of silence as the stormtroopers prepared a small shape charge, then some boson's mate, he was guessing, ordered his troopers to make sure their blasters were set on stun. A voice after that seemed to be counting down and then there was the sharp report of a small localized explosion. After that there was some yelling from that NCO as he urged his troopers into combat.
Roblin held his breath as he realized he was broadcasting the events across his squadron net, as well. He imagined each of his men listening in silence as the boarding took place.

"We got them." A voice announced.

"Vessel secured." Another one cut through the net.

"ISD 1765 we have secured the vessel along with three human prisoners as well. We have two male and one female captive ready for transfer to you whenever you're ready." The boson reported back to the Quill.

"Roger that, we're bringing you aboard now." Flight Control responded. Roblin watched as the shuttle was invisibly pulled through space towards the waiting hanger of the star destroyer. Before the craft was halfway there the TIE/bc disengaged and flew off so that the Quill's electromagnetic paralyzing pincer claw could secure the captured ship onboard. Mynock flight maintained fighter cover all the way up to the point of capture.

"Good job, Mynock. You are clear for training flights at this time." Flight control congratulated them.

"Thank you Flight, Mynock out." Roblin smiled at a job well done. He thought of the boys around him and how they compared to squadrons he had flown within the past. He was pleasantly surprised to find that he would gladly go into combat with any of the lads of Mynock. He had been worried about their attitudes when they had been first introduced to him, but after a few weeks with him and the rest of the officers of the Quill, they hardly ever mentioned Palpatine or the Empire anymore. In fact, he thought he heard Zap say there wasn't any Empire out here just the other day. That was a sentiment that was quickly sweeping the fleet he had noticed.

Roblin was suddenly in a playful mood after the successful completion of his squadron's first mission. "Ok Mynock, let's split into teams of five for some dog fighting practice. I'm in the mood to shoot some of you." He laughed as he rocketed over the red planet below.


Northern Martian Polar Orbit, Orion II-class Space Shuttle Enterprise

"They're back." The payload specialist's voice cut over the intercom as the man tried to sound as chillingly frightening as he could be. The Shuttle Commander figured it was all bravado and the other astronaut was just as scared as the rest of them. He pulled himself along and heard the communication technician following along to the crew compartment.
It didn't take long to reach. After the war in South America, NASA hadn't been on the good end of the government receiving line, and had only been able to fund four of the Orion IIs for space travel, after the success of the Orion Is and the failure of the original shuttles during the early part of the century. If NASA hadn't promised the public a moon colony as well as the Mars mission the senior commander figured he'd be back in Texas somewhere working for his old man, or still flying old Raptors for the Air Force. Instead the public had needed something hopeful to look for and so here he was in orbit around the red planet, and utterly alone.

It had now been five days since they had any contact with Houston and three days since they had talked with Martinez and her men on the ground. Except for a flyby every few hours that showed some signs of life down there at the landing site, he would have written them off days ago and headed for home. His military training and the mantra of never leaving a man behind prevented him from doing just that, until he did everything possible to bring those astronauts home alive.
He reached the crew cabin and swung his body around into the pilot's chair, and then buckled himself in. His fellow astronauts did the same in their assigned slots.

"There's a whole mess of those 'H' UFOs this time. I've already counted eight, but the FOD radar is detecting at least ten of them." The payload specialist reported. One of the craft rocketed past their cockpit window, only to be replaced by one traveling in another direction. A second or two later a third jetted by in another direction.

"What are they doing?" The third astronaut asked. She was much younger than the other two men, but sounded stronger than either of them. "It's like their trying to scare us or something."

"I think they're trying to draw our fire." He answered.

"What fire? All we have is the Canadarm5 manipulator arm, and I don't think we'd have much of a chance with it in a fight with those things." The payload specialist argued.

"Everyone suit up. If they mess with us I don't want to lose anyone if we depressurize." The commander ordered. All three of them unstrapped themselves and started donning their spacesuits. Within five minutes they were back in their seats again watching the odd show around them. "If we're getting any of this on film I want it broadcast immediately back to Houston. Somebody is going to want to see this."

"I'm trying, but our signal seems to be jammed." The mission specialist reported.

"Colonel, one of those UFOs is standing to, at our twelve o'clock." He could feel the other astronaut pointing behind him, but all he could look at was the strange craft ahead of him. This one must be in command, he figured. It's watching to see how the other craft are performing, he thought. His gaze continued past the craft to a large diamond shape that was coming out of the blackness of space.

"Holy… It's the mothership!" His female crewman yelled out. The rest of the 'H' shaped UFOs stopped their flights around his shuttle and took up new positions. He noticed their new locations were exactly where he would place fighters if he wanted to prevent a slower craft's escape. He knew in his gut they had his shuttle trapped.

"Sir, I'm picking up another UFO on the radar."

"How come our commo is jammed, but not our radar?" he asked.

"No idea, Sir. The new contact is moving to a position at our six o'clock high." She informed him.

"Colonel, it's not slowing down." The payload specialist was starting to sound frantic. It was now or never, he figured. The shuttle commander grabbed a hold of the pilot's control handles and engaged the thrusters. For a second he wished the shuttle's real pilot and his best friend Pete Bosko was here, but the other astronaut was on the planet's surface below. The thrusters moved the shuttle a good foot or two before the whole spaceship shook and let out a groan as if external forces were trying to rip it apart.

"What in the heck…?" His question died in his throat.

"Sir, I think they've got us in some sort of tractor beam." The payload specialist suggested. "Don't fight it or it'll rip the shuttle to pieces."

"You've been reading too many comic books, man." He retorted, but he still released the throttle and watched his controls to confirm that his shuttle was indeed moving through space on its own accord. His shock was disrupted by the loud clanging of metal on their outer hull.

"They're on top of us, Colonel!"

"I can hear that." He could feel his heart beating away. Was he really about to have a close encounter with an alien. Were his crew and him about to become prisoners of some sort of hostile little green men? The three of them moved out of their seats and back towards the hatch that led to the cargo compartment. He stood in front of the other two and opened the door and listened as metallic scratching noises were heard throughout the shuttle. The door wouldn't have mattered anyways, he figured, if they can get through the hull then they could get anywhere onboard.

The noises continued, and for a second he thought he even heard electronic sounding English coming from the aliens. There was a long lull after the noises stopped and the only thing he could hear was the ragged breathing of his companions and himself as they stared into the brightly lit white cargo bay.

He thought his heart stopped for a split second as a small section of one of the cargo doors suddenly imploded and shot across the bay. He barely registered the piece of hull striking the far wall before a man shaped figure in a white suit jumped though the hole. He tried to take a step back, as another identical alien came bursting though the smoking gap as well. He noticed in their hands what appeared to be black assault rifles of some sort. The first alien pointed his weapon directly at the shuttle commander's chest as three more white suited extraterrestrials entered the shuttle's cargo bay.

He was just about to challenge them when the lead alien's weapon shot forth strange blue circles that caught him in the upper torso and face. His body seemed to be on fire for a fraction of a second and then everything went black.
---------------------------------------------
Ares Vallis, Earth 4 Surface, Unknown Space

"We're still only counting four of them, Commander." The clone sniper reported from his position half a kilometer from Cody's own location. Cody peered down the ridge he had dug himself into and tried to spot the sharpshooter's location. The red camouflage of the trooper's EVO armor helped him blend perfectly into the landscape.

Cody had fought on a hundred planets and in dozens of systems, but never had he felt the sheer sense of isolation he felt on this one. Tiny red rocks and boulders littered the landscape as far as his macrobinoculars could see. While they aided his two commando teams in their efforts to stealthily approach the target, they also gave Cody the impression that he was being watched from a dozen different locations at once. He was in contact with the fleet above and they had reported that there weren't any bio signs anywhere near his position, except for his teams and a confirmation of four humanoid life forms near his target.

It was still hard to judge. The enemy emplacement was nothing more than a fortified entrance next to what appeared to be a small pressurized greenhouse. One of his team's snipers had asked to put a few holes in the structure, but Cody had denied the request. He knew it could possibly give them away, as well as deny the fleet's science teams some valuable specimens for research.

The clone commandoes he had accompanied, worried him a little. They were newer men, cloned at the end of the Clone War on Centax-2 instead of Kamino like the clones he had been raised with. Almost to the man, the clone commandoes that had been decanted on Kamino had disappeared or deserted the Imperial military after the war. Cody had heard rumors of where they had gone, but hadn't dug into it too deeply. He felt over time that his true duty was to those who had stayed behind, and when Bacara had presented his own plan for the clones he knew he had done the right thing. Still, the clones he led today kept their level of professionalism at a peak level, and never questioned the assignment of a Clone Marshal Commander to tag along on their mission.

Cody was now all alone on his ridge. Behind him and camouflaged under red and grey netting were hidden nine BARC speeders with repulse sleds that carried the team's equipment and gear. Below him on the long sloping ridge were the members of Wesk Squad slowly inching their way across the valley towards the odd construction the Earth men had built on the planet's surface. He swept his rangefinder over the odd layout again just to see if he could figure it out once more. It appeared as if it was some type of central square even though it wasn't surrounded by any buildings besides the entrance to the enemy base. For awhile he thought it could possibly be a wide road of some sort, but it didn't seem to lead anywhere. Across its surface lay a crude looking bulldozer and some sort of large rolling flattener vehicle, as well as dozens of surveying and measuring devices. Whatever it was, the Earthlings were putting a lot of attention into getting it just right.
Across the valley, at a distance of almost two kilometers Cody witnessed a sudden flash of light. "Look alive, Trill Squad, one of you is reflecting something." Cody warned his other team of commandoes.

"Roger roger that Sir, Chim was just taking another look at the target with his scope." Trill's Sergeant reported back.

"Just keep it tactical, the 'Earthican' that runs the dozer is due back any minute if it keeps with its normal schedule." They had been in position for three days now and were just waiting for the orders to go in and seize the Earth beings. A half hour ago they had watched to the north as the Earth shuttle was seized by one of the fleet's star destroyers, and they knew it couldn't be long before they were given the go ahead as well. Cody wondered why the four beings below didn't just come out of their hole and throw their hands up in surrender. They had to have figured out that his commando teams were out there. He had ordered Trill Squad to check out the greenhouse and the construction equipment the night before, and the next morning he had watched as the 'Earthians' in their bulky enviro-suits had discovered strange footprints around their encampment. It had been a sloppy mistake on Trill's part, but it had let the 'Eartholans' know that they weren't exactly safe anymore. That knowledge was probably eating away at their morale right about now.

He scanned the large boring machine next to the entrance and wondered how deep their encampment ran. If the fleet detected a radiation storm approaching, Cody was going to order his troopers to take the position quickly, orders or not, so they'd have some means of protection. Not that the EVO suits they had on didn't offer any. The armor they wore was designed to protect its wearer in the most extreme and harshest of environments. A trooper could remain alive in one for three days, but Cody and his men had brought along several exchanges of air and water for the suits. Cody however wished the suit had some way of covering up how ripe his body was starting to smell after spending the better part of a week inside of it.

When Bacara had tapped him for the mission it was because he had the only experience amongst the various clone marshals with Evo armor, during action on Raxus Prime after the war. Cody smiled when he remembered how envious Bly was of him going into action again, while the other Marshal Commander had to stay onboard the Acclamator Fool and twiddle his thumbs all day. His troopers had drawn the EVO armor and had been allowed to camouflage it for the terrain they anticipated encountering on their mission. It had been the first time Cody had seen of anyone being allowed to mar the perfect armor of the Stormtrooper Corps since the end of hostilities with the Seperatists. The Emperor wanted his stormtroopers to lose all sense of individuality, no matter how many lives it cost. Cody had tried to keep his color scheme much like the yellow of his clone armor, but when he noticed how much shiny white plastoid was still showing he had caked on the grey and red paint.

They had been dropped off by the Star Destroyer Trapped while she had been on her shakedown cruise, and had taken a Nu-class assault shuttle to land several hundred kilometers from the enemy base. Once they deployed their BARC speeders and unloaded their gear the pilot had raced to rejoin the rest of the fleet. It had only taken them an hour to cover the distance to the target, but since they didn't want to be seen they had to sneak most of the equipment closer at night. Cody hoped the enemy didn't have any sort of night-vision capabilities, but you never could tell.

After three days of observing the four beings at the base, Cody and his troopers still hadn't been able to determine the presence of any type of weapons. While he had heard Intel assessment that the Earthlians still used slugthrowers, he had figured that they would have surely sent their elite troops into space, and at least given them some sort of rudimentary blaster for protection.

"Commander, I am picking up transmissions again from that previous contact." Wesk Squad's sergeant reported. Starting late in the evening yesterday they had began to receive binary transmission from another probe of some sort somewhere to the east of them. Cody checked his own signals and picked up whatever Wesk squad was receiving.

"Trill, are you getting this?"

"Roger roger that Sir, we can triangulate its location as well."

"Send it, Trill." Cody's HUD blinked as a new message icon appeared. When he opened it, with a flutter of his eyelid, he observed as a holomap appeared showing their position as well as the new contact. "You troopers stay in position. I'll take out the new target."

"Copy that, Sir." One of his squads responded. Cody backed away from his position on all fours until he was below the horizon of the ridge, and then carefully slid down the slope so as not to send up a dust cloud and reveal his location. He climbed aboard his BARC speeder and took a looping course well away from the Earth base.

He raced above the small rocks at speeds approaching five hundred kilometers an hour, and wished Neyo were alongside him as the other Marshal had written the book on BARC warfare. In less than ten minutes he covered the sixty kilometers to the new transmission site and was greeted by a small droid. It looked like a flat oven top on wheels. It had a small shovel and other instruments for measuring the soil as well as several cameras pointed in every which direction.
"Hello there, little droid." Cody addressed it, but the small droid didn't even acknowledge him. "Rude much?" Cody asked as
he kicked the tiny droid onto its back, with its all-terrain wheels spinning as they tried in vain to right the machine. Cody pulled out his DC-15 blaster and put a neat hole through the machine that stopped all motion from the droid. He picked up the remains and threw it onto the back of his speederbike. He looked around for just a moment, before saddling back up himself, and then raced off to rejoin his men.

He was just parking his BARC again when the signal his teams had been waiting for arrived. Cody raced to the top of the ridge and looked down into the valley once again. One of the Earthagonians was manning the bulldozer, but none of the others were to be seen.

"Attack plan Dorn. Repeat attack plan Dorn. Execute. Execute. Execute." Cody ordered both squads into action. He watched as two rocks that were within meters of the being on the construction equipment suddenly became camouflaged EVOtroopers of Wesk Squad, who climbed aboard the machine and tackled the driver. They shoved the poor Earthician off, and he thudded to the ground next to the machine. Another rock became the Sergeant of Wesk Squad who sat on the being as he slapped stun cuffs over the Earthling's enviro-suited arms.

Cody switched his view to the entrance of Earth base, and was just in time to witness Trill squad accessing the small airlock the Earthers had in place there. The four troopers disappeared for a few moments, but reemerged with three of the strangely bulky-suited humans in tow. The way one of them appeared to be moving, it was evident that Trill Squad hadn't been gentle in their attack.

"Trill, clear."

"Wesk, clear."

"Endex." Cody called over the net.

"Fleet Ops, this is CC-2224. Mission complete. We are now plus four, repeat, plus four." Cody looked at the chrono inside his helmet. Three minutes had passed since the order had been given to take the base. These newer clones could serve with him any day, he thought proudly.

"Copy that CC-2224. Dustoff LAAT is on its way."

There was a day when Cody would have felt like celebrating a successful mission with a few drinks, but as he watched the LAAT/i slowly descend into the atmosphere his only thoughts were of a hot shower and a soft bunk.


Ares Vallis, Martian Surface, Inner Solar System, Milky Way Galaxy


"There's also evidence that they entered the greenhouse, and a few of the exterior cameras show signs of tampering on their cases, even though none of them picked up any of the aliens on film." Bosko informed her. "There's three maybe four different set of boot prints out there too."

"I paced them off Major. Whoever left them is roughly as big as a good sized man." Patch, the civil engineer of the group reported, as the small group of astronauts sat alone in the poorly lit bunker facility. The structure had been constructed on a prior mission over the course of a week and the use of a remote boring machine controlled from Earth. They had moved in with the order to build a runway for the next generation of Orion II shuttles to land, and start bringing the supplies needed for a colony.

Now the plan was probably being thrown in the trash heap of history. It had been a week since the American astronauts had heard from Flight Control at Houston and just over forty eight since they had heard a garbled message from the Enterprise somewhere in orbit above them. The stress level was high enough in the facility that you could cut it with a knife.

"See that's why I don't think its aliens watching us." Stuart the biologist on this trip couldn't help but throw his two cents in. "From what I've seen it's got to be the Russians or the Chinese."

"What about Southern Union? Could they have anything that could jam us and get out here?" Martinez had to consider every possibility.

"No way, they're years away from getting an astronaut off of Earth let alone way out here, even if the Europeans give them help again." Stuart responded. He was a big fan of politics and was usually entertaining to debate with, but now with a looming crisis somewhere in the rocks around their camp, entertainment was the last thing on Martinez's mind.

"Major, I say we just try to keep appearances up around here. Let the people out there watching us think they haven't shaken us at all." Patch suggested. "It's almost time for my shift to get started again, and I'd like to lay another twenty yards of cement before lunch."

"Is there anything you can take to defend yourself, if they make their move?" She asked. Selena Martinez had served with the NAU Marine Corps during the bloody occupation of Caracas, and as a result tended to be eternally on the defense.

"We've got a few kitchen knives, a pick, and one of the few entrenching tools in the greenhouse." Bosko suggested. Martinez knew the pilot was itching to get the whole team aboard the lander and beat a retreat back to the Enterprise. She couldn't blame him, but she would wait for the orders to come from Houston before she would make that move.

"Those'll have to do. Maybe try carrying one of the pry bars we got outside with you as well, and Patch," She waited for the complete attention of the man. "I want you talking away on your commo. We might not be able to pick you up with all the interference we've been getting, but you might be able to warn us if you see something out there."

"Sure thing, Boss." Patch said as he started donning his spacesuit. Bosko helped the man out with securing his helmet and oxygen system. Martinez glanced over at the man's pressure gauge to make sure he was within safety norms, with everything else going wrong she didn't want a casualty adding to her troubles. The man lumbered over to the entrance vestibule that led upwards to the airlock. Once he was out of sight she listened for the buzzing of the airlock in operation followed by the ready tone that told Patch it was safe for him to go outside without depressurizing or flooding the bunker system with the hostile Martian atmosphere.

Martinez went back to work on the radio gear and the high tech laser communicator in order to pass the time, but the inoperability of her commo just frustrated her further. Bosko spent his time washing the morning's dishes and preparing lunch for his comrades, while Stuart chose this time to take a light nap.

Repeated static on the radio just raised her stress level, when Bosko came into the communication room to see how she was doing. She could hear the buzzing noise from the airlock undergoing its vacuum cycle.

"What the hell?" Bosko yelled. She turned and saw that he was watching the top side camera monitor. On it were four red and white spacesuit wearing men wailing the tar out of Patch on the unfinished runway.

"Grab your suit." Was all she got out before the airlock opened and what she thought were flash-bangs, flew from the entrance way. She was staring through the door of the commo room when the devices went off, leaving her half deaf and blind. She was just coherent enough to make out two more of the reddish white soldiers as they burst into the room. One of the assault team clubbed Bosko to the ground with his weapon, while another of the strange men dragged Stuart from the sleeping quarters. The last man in the room gave Bosko another good kick in the leg when the pilot had tried to stand again.

"Put on your enviro-suits!" One of the attackers ordered her. She wasn't quite sure what he meant or how he spoke English until he held out one of the spacesuits to Stuart. The three of them dressed as quickly as they could, and she hoped the suits were safe as the attackers didn't give them the proper amount of time to do their safety checks before they were being forced to the surface. This time they entered the airlock and one of their captors immediately opened the outer door, evidently they didn't care about contaminating the base with foreign atmosphere.

The three of them were led out onto the runway where five more of the strangely suited men stood guard over Patch, who sat leaning against the bulldozer's blade. The attackers must be having as much trouble with the atmosphere as they were, she figured as she started to study their armored suits. The most telling weakness was a pair of airhoses that ran from some type of converter on each of their chests to their helmets. She figured they were humans, or at least human-like she told herself, as they were led to one alien who she decided was their leader. He was suited up like them, but had a strange binocular device over his forehead as well as a red half skirt around the back of his waist. His weapon looked like a pistol, where the other men carried what she assumed were some type of assault rifle of a type she had never come across in her time in the Marines.

The man appeared to be looking her over when a strange craft started descending out of the sky behind him. The thing was as big as a barn and was bristling with weapons turrets. Its sides were open like a troop helicopter and it had the appearance of some of the ancient helicopters the old Soviet Union used in the last century. Who were these guys, her mind raced for answers?

"Major Ana Gonzalez Martinez, Serial Number 34…." She started to say, but was cut off as the leader grabbed her arm and yanked her towards the waiting craft. Man, he was strong the ex-marine thought as she was manhandled by the strange attacker.

"Didn't ask. Don't care. Get on." He half flung and half tossed her onboard. She looked up to see several more soldiers wearing plain white suits of a different cut and type than her attackers surrounding her. Her fellow astronauts quickly followed her onboard the odd lander.

"Still think they're from Earth?" Bosko asked.

"Right now I'm wondering if we'll ever see Earth again." The craft took off and shut its side doors leaving them in darkness.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Yard 4, Imperial Cargo Ship Chain, Earth 4 Orbit


Ashla was probably the wealthiest slave onboard the Chain, but she was also the loneliest. The young Jedi missed being part of a pack, but her hidden treasure horde gave her more reasons to distrust the slaves around her, than ever.
With her fully recharged lightsaber she now had a way to access every area on the starship. Once she had found a way through the ventilation shafts she had made her way back to the yards, and the first thing she had done was check on members of her old pack from the slave pens of Kuat. When she had broken into Yard 3, the first slaves she had encountered had told her of an small outbreak of Karatos Plague in the hold, which had explained why the guards had been so adamant about there being no travel between the yards. She had reached out with the force and hadn't felt the presence of any of her old comrades. They were one with the Force now she told herself, and hoped their final hours had passed in peace. When no one was looking she quickly escaped the other diseased Yard and made her way back to the one where she had made her hold.

Ashla had visited her old home, in the valleys of Yard 4, only long enough to pack up her small supply of food, to move to her new shelter in the maintenance hold with her hidden horde of valuables. As she packed her remaining MPETs, she wondered when credits and treasure became important to her. When she was a youngling she had wanted for nothing at the Jedi Temple, but after the purge, credits were the only thing that had kept her one step ahead of the Empire. The Togruta padawan feared she could be dancing perilously close to the dark side.

Before she left her former shelter, she decided she would take the time to meditate on her own place in the Force and in which way her ill-gotten gains could be used for the light side. She placed herself in a seated position and focused her energies on the living force. She felt herself drawn to the thousands of lifeforms in the surrounding fleet, but again felt a much more distant Force. It was the same strangulation of the Force she had felt earlier and when she sought to come to grips with it, Ashla felt as if she herself were being choked. She focused again on the universal Force amongst the beings of the fleet and felt the joy of being embraced in the mystic energy. She chose to ignore the strangeness of the Force that existed in this part of the galaxy, and instead thought of what her greed and theft of the hidden vault meant to her continued study of the Force.

Her thoughts went back to a day long ago on the planet Muunilist. She saw through her meditation the presence of her friend Liam and her standing amongst a group of pirates and scoundrels, as they stood along the docks of a large city, staring out at one of the local oceans. Dozens of volcanoes smoked pillars of ash into the atmosphere, giving everything a dirty gritty feeling. The two of them, along with the rest of the scum, had been hired by Tubulla the Hutt to knock over a local bank. The group would get half of whatever they took, and to Ashla, the job had sounded like a chance to hunt in a pack again. Liam had his misgivings about their turning to crime to finance their life on the run, but she had convinced him that it was their responsibility as two of the last Jedi to survive by any means possible.

The raid on the bank had gone horribly wrong right from the outset. The gang had rushed the building, but several of the thugs they had attached themselves to, had started gunning down hostages as soon as they entered the lobby of the bank. Liam pulled Ashla aside and said he wanted no part of this after that. When another robber had panicked and fled the building, their whole gang was startled when blasters rang out from outside. Ashla peered out one of the bank's viewports in time to see the fleeing thief's body slam into the pavement. Dozens of Muunilist's security police had the building surrounded.

She remembered they never asked for their surrender. A special police assault team had rushed the building with their
blasters blazing. They cut down thief and hostage alike in their eagerness to protect the financial institution's funds. She never knew who, but somebody threw a thermal detonator. The blast flung her against a wall and left her senseless after that. She recalled the two armored policemen rushing her, and then the sight of Liam standing over her with his lightsaber drawn. He deflected a dozen bolts before the one caught him in the mid-section. Through the smoke and noise of the ongoing battle, he crawled to Ashla leaving a telling trail of blood across the bank's floor. He looked her in the eyes and said one word to her.

"Run."

She was in shock as her only friend passed on to join with the Force. A Muun stood over her and batted her head with his blaster. The next thing she remembered was waking up in a slave pit. She had enough identification that she was officially identified as a Shakra Tiber, which led her to be sold as a slave instead of being turned over to the Empire's Jedi hunters. She figured the Muuns were pleased enough with the reward they had received for Liam's bloody death that they hadn't even realized they had another possible Jedi in their midst. Luckily she was sold off planet within hours of her arrest and was long gone before the Muuns thought to check her out a bit closer.

Ashla had wondered for a long time what would have happened if she hadn't been injured. What would have occured if she had stood side by side with her fellow Jedi and fought the assaulting Muun in a glorious defense with her friend? Some days she would have thought they would have written legends about it whenever the temple was rebuilt, but the realist in her knew the Empire more than likely would have just crossed the name of Ashla Ti off of their most wanted Jedi lists, and would wash their hands of it. The loss of Liam had hit her as hard as the lost of her Master Agen Kolar, and after that day she had vowed to always hide what she was. It wasn't until recently that she felt safe in merely reaching out with the Force again. Of course, she must always be wary of the dark side she told herself as she emerged from her meditative state.

She took one last look back at her shelter and then made her return trip to her new home in the maintenance chambers in the bowels of the starship. On her way she noticed slaves were being lined up below. While she wondered if she should check it out our not a mechanical whirring noise drew her attention to the roof of the yard. A huge mechanical claw was moving back and forth up there. Every once in a while it would dip down and seize on one of the containers below before hauling it away, and Ashla started to notice that the restraining durasteel cables that held the mountains of containers in place were missing as well. The Empire was unloading.

This required investigation, and she made her way down the side of the valley. As she travelled she noticed the presence of technicians and guards moving from container to container checking the contents with what they had on their datapads. She hoped they wouldn't be to angry with the slaves for the theft of so much cargo, but they had left the slaves to basically starve, so what did they expect.

The slaves below were being lined up and made to go through a series of stations where they were either checked for data and illness or asked a series of questions. Ashla figured since she was on the starship's manifest she might as well get this over with before they came looking for her. She waited in one of the lines for almost an hour before she was in front of one of the guards.

"Name?" The guard demanded.

"Shakra Tiber." She had given that name so many times over the years that she almost believed it was her real name anymore. Once again a human didn't notice that her Ti facial pigmentation hardly came close to matching the Tiber packs unique design, but she wasn't about to waste time informing the ignorant.

"Next station." He waved her on. The next station was a table with a redheaded female technician who checked everything on a huge datapad.

"Are you a Togruta?" The technician asked. Ashla nodded the affirmative. "Wizard! I've never seen one of you. Is it true you guys are venomous?"

"Oh yes. We poison all our prey." Ashla lied about another common misconception about her people.

"Ok, wow. I won't get too close then. So Ms. Tiber, it says here you were taken prisoner on Muunulist for bank robbery. You served the Corporate Sector and then worked for KDY. There are lots of prisoners here in the same boat. If you had been sent to prison instead of the slaver's market you could have possibly been free by now. How do you feel about the Empire?"

"I don't hate them." She had other stronger feelings for the murderers of the Jedi Order, "I guess technically I've never worked for them, so I really wouldn't know one way or another."

"I hear you, well we're offering a deal to most slaves. The ones that are political prisoners, born into slavery, or like you have already done most of their time, are being offered their freedom in exchange for duty to the fleet." The technician explained. "You'll be compensated for your labor with credits and possibly a land grant at a later date."

"What? You're pulling my montral." Ashla exclaimed. "What kind of work would you be having us do?

"Mining mostly, gas and ore, and there a lot of construction and terraforming work as well, but since you already worked for KDY we can probably get you some specialist work in the driveyards we're setting up."

"What? Where are we that you can't just send slaves to the existing KDY driveyards around Kuat?" Ashla was getting more than a little confused.

"I'm afraid we're a little bit too distant for that. We're not even in Imperial Space anymore from what I've heard."

So the rumors were true. Something had happened and the truth had filtered down from high command, through the ranks till it had reached the guards and then the lowly slaves. There really was a massive lost fleet around her. She had felt them in the Force, and they were starting a new Empire or Union or Clan or whatever out here, and they needed the slaves as citizens, not just a labor force. She wondered who they would get to replace the slaves on the bottom rung of this new society they wanted to set up, especially if they were going to make all the more peaceful prisoners specialty tradesmen. Someone always had to be on the bottom to make the rest of civilization feel better about itself. She had learned that lesson the hard way. She wondered if that was one of the reasons knights and masters kept padawans.
The technician continued, "So are you interested?"

"How long do I have to decide?"

"We'll be emptying these yards over the course of the next month. If you decide against your freedom for some reason you will be transferred to a penal colony on a nearby planet with the rest of the slaves and the capitol crime offenders we have amongst the fleet." She gestured with her head towards another station where a slave who was obviously Black Sun was being interviewed. Two guards stood menacing over the slave. Ashla hoped that he wasn't getting the same offer as she did.

"I'll think about it." Ashla stood to leave.

"You do that, and get back to us. The fleet is eager to have all the qualified workers it can get its hands on." The technician turned in her seat and waved the next slave forward.

Normally it would have been an offer Ashla would have jumped on in an instant, but she had a hidden treasure trove to think off. There was no way the guards wouldn't search her before she left the ship and what would they do when they found even a trace of her theft, or worse, her lightsaber. She pictured herself being put up against a wall somewhere and a line of guards raising their blasters in her direction as an officer slowly counted down. It wasn't a pleasant thought.

Ashla needed to find her own freedom and soon, she told herself. She made it back to her maintenance closet without any further difficulties and decided to come up with a plan of her own. She rested for a bit, and then late that night made her way through the innards of the starship until she found her way to a crowded hanger bay she had discovered a few days ago. She silently dropped a few meters and crouched in a ready stance underneath several smaller airspeeders. She waited motionless as she reached out with the force and her echo location to determine the layout of the hanger. Two mechanics on the far side of the hanger worked late into the night repairing an old SoroSuub Cutlass-9 Patrol Fighter, but they were too far away to notice her as she started to move amongst the craft.

She ducked inside several of the larger freighters around her. Since she wasn't a pilot of any great skill she decided she needed one with a reliable enough looking auto-pilot and hopefully one with an astromech droid all ready onboard. She passed up several because they were simply too small for her needs or were blocked in from the docking shield by the abundance of other craft in the hanger. She decided to check out the craft that were closer to the opening to increase her chances.

When Ashla neared the shield she peered out and was greeted by an impressive sight. Most of view was filled with a red planet that reminded her of the color of her own skin. What really impressed her was the sight of starships of every type as far as the eye could see unloading thousands of landing barges heading for the planet's surface. It reminded her of the skyways near the temple when she was a youngling. The planet ahead looked barren, but with this much activity heading towards the red orb, it wouldn't be long before it was civilized. She needed to make her escape with all this activity going on or she wouldn't be able to pull it off.

She turned around and was greeted by the round shape of a medium-range light-stock cargo hauler. The starship's grey and white deckplates were of Corellian design, and the ship mounted a unique looking tri-laser arrangement along with several unknown sensor packages on several locations along her hull. Ashla quickly snuck aboard and took a look around. The ship had ample storage room and a small room for crew members to get some rest. She made her way across one of the three support arms that ran to the cockpit. The ship's systems were in a passive standby mode and she noted that they had been left that way in order for the craft to recharge. It also seemed as if the ship had been refueled recently, which was another worry of hers after she had seen the fuel status on several of the other craft in the hanger. She saw the letters YT-2000 across the top of the control panels in front of what she made out to be the pilot's position and decided that must be the starship's designation.

Throughout the night she quietly transferred her hoard of treasure and collected weapons from her hiding place to the unguarded freighter. After several hours the mechanics even left and she had the whole hanger to herself. She stowed all of her belongings around the ship and sealed up the entrance ramp. Once she was back in the cockpit she tried to remember everything about piloting that she knew of, which wasn't a whole lot. She slowly started up the engines and a high pitched whine filled the hanger. Ashla silently willed the noise to not draw any attention as she pulled back on the maneuvering throttle to lift the craft off of the deck.

Ashla spotted dozens of lights turning on in the hanger behind her as she edged the craft forward and shot out of the hanger. With a little difficulty she rapidly put some distance between herself and the Chain. She dove into the long lines of craft moving between the fleet and the surface of the nearby planet and tried her best to blend in. Right before she entered the atmosphere she leveled off the craft and shot underneath a trio of star destroyers that seemed to have other worries on their minds besides one errant freighter. Nobody even bothered to challenge her as she left the fleet in her wake.
Where to go, she asked herself. She flipped on what she thought was the ship's sensors and started scanning for the nearest source of transmissions. She picked up one that wasn't coming from the fleet and headed her new ship in its direction. She didn't know where she was heading, but after five years on the run followed by five years of slavery. any port in a storm looked good.

Executive Officer's Billets, Imperial II-class SD Quill, Polar Orbit Earth 4

His five hour rest and hot shower were slowly improving Yutu's mood. He had just spent the prior twenty hours dealing with seven of the most frustrating humans he had ever come across. If he heard one more word of this 'Geneva Convention' nonsense, he would personally shoot the next prisoner that spouted it. He now knew from memory the name, rank, and serial number of each of the seven so called 'astronauts' that had been captured over the past seventy two hours.
He stood in his hydro-shower and let the hot water flow over his shoulders in an attempt to release some of his stress. Fleet Admiral Yos was starting to rely more and more on the new Bureau of Operations, and so far his fellow Director, Captain Dual, was the only one to show any signs of success. All be it, his peer had only ran two missions and on both of them the Terrans hadn't even been armed. Yutu was sure the other man's success rate would start to falter once the Earth beings started shooting back.

Now, he had been delivered these seven captives and they spouted the same annoying nonsense over and over, as if they were Felucian mimic birds. After one interrogation session, one of the men that had been captured explained just exactly what the Geneva Accords were. When he heard the explanation, he wondered why the Empire had never come up with something so civilized. The only rule the Empire ever came up with for the treatment of prisoners was 'Throw them in the nearest slave camp'. When he had got the man talking, a Colonel Adam Finkray who served as the commander of the captives, he had only gone on about the ramifications of the accords. Yutu had been shocked when the earth commander had told him he would do everything he could to escape, and that it was his duty, as the Empire had attacked first. The man had a sketchy report of what had happened with the probots on his home world, but he was under the skewed understanding that there had been several battles in which there were many casualties on the Earthling's side.

Yutu needed a breakthrough soon. The Fleet Admiral and he both agreed that the more gruesome means of interrogation were the hallmarks of the ISB, and that the men of Tarkin's Fist shouldn't resort to such draconian measures. However the longer the prisoners refused to answer any questions, the more torture looked like a reasonable method for extracting responses. Yutu already had pain tables, nerve inducters, and IT-0 torture droids standing by, and he had requested permission with the Fleet Admiral for the employment of Xebonica, Mangoriza, Skirtopanol, and Loquasin on at least one of the prisoners to start getting some answers. Yos had given him until this morning, and if they still weren't speaking he had permission to start wide-spread doping of the Earth captives. Yutu had given orders that they weren't to be interrogated without him present, but he still wasn't in a hurry to get back to the detention block for another round with the prisoners.

The Captain stepped out of the shower and toweled off. He still preferred the inconvenience of the hot water to the ease of a sonic shower, especially when he was working through a problem. His mind fell to the issue of the Bureau, he and Dual had set up. So far all the officers they had chosen for their positions within it, were doing exceptional jobs, and Yutu thought it was actually working smoother than the one it had been modeled upon back in the Empire. Even the Admiral's daughter Lieutenant Yos had proven exceptional in her dealings with the Moffs as head of DiploServe. The Imperial Governors just didn't know how to react to an eleven years old girl conveying the Fleet Admiral's wishes to them and ordering them about. Of course the fact that the Moffs were being kept quite busy with their own machinations on Earth 4 probably stopped them from getting into too much trouble. The Bureau had even produced a few strong leads in the mystery of how they had arrived in this system in the first place. The presence of a Mauler virus had been found and purged from the nav computers of the fleet, which proved the existence of at least one ISB mole that was well placed somewhere in the fleet.

The trick to catching a mole was to have patience, and Yutu could out-wait the best of them. It was just a matter of waiting for the other spy to make a mistake, and if he knew the ISB, he knew that it wouldn't be too long before the hidden mole made a mis-step. Yutu smiled to himself when he thought of the particularly painful interrogation methods he would use when that day came.

He dressed quickly and made his way to his office in Signal Interception. Besides interrogation of prisoners, there were a dozen other responsibilities he needed to keep on top off. The one that most interested him was the detailed dissection of the astronaut's so-called spaceshuttle. The thing had scared the wits out of almost every pilot onboard the Quill, simply put, none of them could believe it was even space-worthy, let alone had transported seven beings across the local system. When he had checked on the craft in the main hanger last night it had no less than fifty Imperial pilots checking it out. The deck officer had to keep clearing the deck so his Intelligence technicians could do their work. Even Moff Kuat had sent over a team of starship designers to look her over, and each of them had turned up their noses at the craft they kept referring to as 'The Death Trap'. These were brave Earthlings to keep going up in craft like this, and his signal intercept teams kept reporting there was another craft just like that one in the hanger, somewhere in orbit around Earth's moon. More possible infuriating prisoners, just waiting for their inevitable capture, he told himself as he stopped for a quick bite of breakfast in the officer's mess.

Several officers acknowledged him as he made his way through the serving line for some chow and a cup of caf. Captain Dual was sitting with a bunch of other staff officers from operations. When he saw Yutu he waved his fellow officer to join him. A junior man got up and offered his seat to the Captain.

"Are you getting anything from those prisoners yet?" Dual asked.

"Not yet. They're very fond of their regulations and they have a whole system for dealing with being a prisoner. I get the impression that they've had quite a few wars of their own to develop such a system." Yutu explained. He didn't want to get too much into the technical side of the interrogations here in the open. Over all, he liked his fellow Captain from the Bureau, and he could tell Dual picked up on his hesitation. Dual wouldn't have wanted to talk about ongoing operations where loose lips could overhear either. Dual quickly changed subjects.

"I hear that someone is trying to set up a limmie league between the warships of the fleet." Dual informed him.

"Really? I hadn't heard that. It'd be really good for moral. I hear that the HoloChannels are pretty empty these days with us being well out of range of the HoloNet."

"Yes they can only show the same HoloDramas so many times before some bored stormtrooper shoots up his whole platoon before eating his own blaster." Dual responded.

"You're in charge of operations, can't you think of something for them to keep their minds occupied? Maybe you can show some of the signals we're picking up from Earth. My technicians have picked up several odd sporting games from there."

"The best thing would be a war, but we've both seen the production reports. There won't be any invasion of that Earth for another standard year at the minimum. At least we can say we conquered this Earth 4 for the time being."

"That was a fair fight. There are almost eleven million beings in this fleet versus seven explorers. I'm glad I didn't put any
credits on the outcome." Yutu sarcastically complained.

"Don't forget they weren't armed." Dual grimaced. He had put a lot of effort into planning that mission, and all the commandoes had to do was walk up and knock on their door and ask them politely to surrender. Instead the Special Forces team had spent three days sneaking about, at least they had got some good training out of it, Yutu consoled him. His datapad started chiming at his side. It was a high priority alert code and when he checked it, there was a message from Lieutenant Knebler asking him to come to SigInt as soon as he could.

"Excuse me. Duty calls." He excused himself.

"Of course. I'll be by later on Bureau business." Dual stood and instead of saluting the two men shook each other's hands. Yutu picked up his pace as he hurried to his station. Perhaps one of the prisoners had finally started to talk, or there had been a breakthrough in the mole case. The possibilities raced through his mind.

When he arrived at Signal Interception he was surprised to see three odd monitors set up in the middle of the room with most of his Intelligence crew standing around them. Yutu recognized the three machines as the data drives that had been pulled from the captured shuttle the Enterprise yesterday. He remembered seeing that name spelled out in the alternative basic script, that replaced aurebesh on less cultured planets, and had wondered just how it had gotten there. Lieutenant Knebler saw him enter and called the room back to their stations. A dozen technicians sullenly returned to their own sensor intercept stations and went back to their spying on the distant planet. Yutu noted the HoloProjection along the side of the room's wall, and watched for a second as hundreds of transports made their way between the fleet and the red planet below.

"Sir, we've uncovered an Intelligence gold mine." Knebler reported.

"Explain please, Lieutenant." Yutu sat down in his command chair that was situated behind the three technicians manning the Earth data machines.

"While we have these three machines being mined for information, we weren't very shocked to come across the service specifications of the captured shuttle and the mission and experiments that were being conducted on Mars."

"Mars?" Yutu asked.

"Yes, that's what they call their fourth planet. They've got a lot a data on the planet itself. Some of it I've already cleared and sent to Moff Culter on the planet's surface."

"That's fine. He'll need all the data he can get."

"We were initially shocked at the low class of specifications of these three machines and how easy our own security probes cracked their security measures. While one of our men was investigating he came across an ancient communication device in all three of the computers as well as the ten machines we pulled from their base on the Martian surface. No one seemed to figure out what they were, and we weren't sure whether or not to insert one of them into our own decoding machines as we were picking up a tremendous amount of viruses and other bugs coming from the devices. I got a man on each of the machines and we were able to connect with several of their satellites and that's when we discovered just what exactly it was that we had stumbled across. I have personally discerned that our delay was caused by the lack of hyperwave transceivers and the total absence of s-threads anywhere in this local system."

"That's quite a long explanation, Lieutenant. What exactly did you and your men discover?" Yutu felt his curiosity raising as he inched to the edge of his chair while he listened to the junior officer and watched the incredible amount of data that was sprawling across the three monitors in front of him.

"Sir, we found what they call the Internet or World Wide Web, from what we can determine it's a form of totally unprotected HoloNet. It's like we now have a million spies at once." Yutu couldn't believe a species would leave themselves that vulnerable.

"Forget the interrogations for this morning." Yutu smiled while he told his staff. "Why fight for answers from unwilling captives, when everything we need to learn about Earth is at the click of our fingers."
Oceanus Procellarum, Lunar Surface, Eagle Base, Unknown Space

"Sir, we're picking up that shortwave signal on the Ham radio again." One of his radio technicians reported from the comm station.

"Put it on speaker." He responded as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall behind the technician. His executive officer approached to get a better listen.

The static filled the room as it often had done in the past month. Only laser communication devices had offered any successful degree of communication with Houston and the Orion II Shuttle Unity in orbit around them. Between bursts of white noise came broken English trying to get in touch with Eagle base. The NAU base was the biggest colony on the moon and housed over eighty astronauts as they built the moon base and conducted scientific experimentation.

"It's coming from the lunar surface." The technician stated.

"Everyone is accounted for." His XO informed him. They both looked at each other with worry. A few days before, the Mars mission had gone completely off line and the only clue had been a short video image of a man in a spacesuit kicking over the Mars Sojourner IV robot some thirty six miles from the Mars base on the day it went off the air. Houston wasn't panicking yet, but he had orders to prepare his base for demolition if they were attacked. Besides six side arms, he had no other way to defend his command, and he wished Houston would get off its butt and land the Unity so he could at least get some of the civilians off of the moon in time.

"It seems to be coming from the Indian Space Agency's rover in the Mare Humorum to the south, but the signals not originating there."

"Put everything you got into that signal. Let's see if we can burn through the interference for a few minutes." The technician did as directed, and the static faded for just a moment.

"Eagle Base, this is Lehao 1 base over. Eagle Base this is Lehao 1 base over." The voice came with heavily accented Chinese. The Taikonauts at their base in Promontorium Kelvin had always ignored the NAU Lunar Base, and the North American's had always repaid the favor with their own silence, but now here they were, reaching out to them.
"Lehao 1 this is Eagle Base over." The base commander hurried to respond, and almost shoved the technician out of his chair.

"Eagle Base not much time. How do you plan on evacuating moon. Over."

"We don't have orders yet on evacuation. Do you? Over."

"Yes, Chinese Government ordering us to seek help from you. They do not want to risk capture of Shenlong Spaceplane by same intruders at Mars. Over."

"Roger that Lehao 1. We have a contingency plan to get nonessential personnel home. Do you have any weapons to defend yourselves? Over."

"Yes ten pistols and one AK-72 converted for atmospheric ballistic tests. Over."

"If you can get to us we will get you home Lehao 1, or will make a stand together. Over." They had his base out gunned,
but they seemed just as scared as him. The Chinese weren't in a position to take over his base, and the last intel he had seen, showed they only had twelve Taikonauts at their small base.

"We will try to make it to your base tomorrow on our two rovers. Expect us at 1200 hours Houston time." He smiled at the Chinese pronunciation. "Will make stand with or fellow earthman if need be…" the static cut over whatever the man said next, but he had heard enough.

"Get on the horn with the Unity. Tell Jim up there, to strip down everything that's nonessential and order him to land tomorrow. We're getting as many people off this rock before those aliens get us too."

"How many can we move?" his XO asked.

"Twenty if we squeeze them in. I want civilians to go first, anyone with military experience is going to stay and defend the base along with our new Chinese friends. Try everything you can to get through to Houston. They have to launch the other two shuttles as soon as possible or they can kiss the whole goddamn space program good bye."
-----------------------------------------
Ares Vallis, Earth 4 Surface, Unknown Space


It was a tremendous site, the young officer thought to herself, as she stood upon the red surface of the strange planet her father had recently conquered without firing a single bolt. In a way, it reminded her of the surface of Subterrel except that the soil was tinged red instead of the blue-grey surface that was a trademark of the world Phasma most associated as being her home. It seemed almost slightly alien, as across the horizon Moff Culter had placed dozens of large Halaolkane machinery that produced vast amounts of chlorofluorocarbons to heat the planet; the machines reminded her of the many entrances to the underground cities and mines of her lost home world.

Not that she missed it horribly, due to her father's position most of her short life had been spent aboard star destroyers of one type or another, around the subterranean world and its enormous ore and gem mines, that her father had been offhandedly ordered by the Emperor to protect. After ten years of being forgotten by the Empire he had faithfully served, her father had brought her along on the Grand Moff's plan to build a new society inside the maw. She knew the plan evidently didn't go as predicted, but the Fleet Admiral was making do with what had befallen the entire fleet. The best part of her father's new plan was the society he was striving to build. It was to be a much smaller and less malevolent version of the Empire she was raised in, but she wondered if her father realized that his new Empire still required a new Emperor.
She stood, clothed in a small version of a black enviro-suit, amongst a reviewing party led by the Moff from the Anoat Sector. Culter was dressed in a heavily modified enviro-suit that he told the group he had worn on seven different planets, that had successfully been terraformed for service to the Empire. It was something of a good luck charm to the man. His pride and joy was a mammoth machine that was being erected in front of them. It was at least a kilometer high and Phasma estimated another kilometer in diameter, and Culter called it a Gaussifer. Somehow, the exact process was lost on Phasma; the device bored to the core of a planet and started the circulation of liquid metal inside the core. Culter dubbed this the Dynamo Process, and claimed that it would build up the magnetosphere of Earth 4, while the thousands of machines and droids around them would slowly warm and pressurize the planet's surface.

In the distance, on top of what had been up to a week ago, an earth base, several large boring machines and drills operated by droids and newly freed slaves, dug into the planet's crust. They were creating living space for the hundreds that were arriving every day, and the more space they created the fewer beings that were exposed to the radiation storms this solar system seemed to be cursed with. Moff Culter had assured her that within the next few months those storms would no longer be a problem. Within days the underground base had expanded to house almost four hundred beings in extremely sparse conditions, but every hour brought more and more supplies from the cargo ships in orbit above, and conditions were quickly improving. The few workers she had spoken to, had informed her that any conditions they underwent now were vastly better than living as slaves under the Empire. Once again she had been aware that beings in the fleet were starting to think of themselves as being apart from the Old Empire and were now a piece of something new.
Moff Culter continued his tour and talked of solar winds and breaking oxygen out of the soil and the permafrost and polar ice caps of the planet. He told the group that the recent findings of the planet's nomenclature of Mars, by the beings of Earth was quaint, but would have no influence on what the Empire finally called it. Phasma thought any name was better than Earth 4, and had always thought that the naming of planets with numerical ordering showed a lack of imagination in Old Republic and Impirical explorers.

Phasma hoped the tour would wrap up soon. Although she was getting plenty of useful information about the colonization effort to report to Captains Yutu and Dual, as well as her father, she couldn't imagine staying much longer in her bulky enviro-suit. The suits she had seen the EVO troopers wearing brought envy to her mind as she remembered that she was still too small to fit properly into any trooper's armor. She wondered if she could persuade Moff Kuat of making her a personal EVO suit based on the stormtrooper design next time she had a meeting with the ex-Kuat of Kuat.

Moff Culter led them back to the shuttle landing pad at the conclusion of his tour. They had to wait a few minutes as repulse-trucks laden with equipment for a pourstone plant drifted by. Culter explained to his guest that the material was perfect for local surface construction, even reinforced with durasteel it could be made into quite tall skyscrapers, and that they weren't to be surprised if on their next visit much of the main construction base appeared to come straight from Tatooine, Elom, Hok, or Ord Cestus. Since the fleet would eventually be granting land to the freed slaves it only made sense that their new homes would resemble the homesteads of those worlds.

Several shuttles waited to return their passengers to the starships in orbit above, but Phasma waited until she could have a word with the terraforming Moff alone. For his part Culter sensed that she was waiting to speak with him and said his goodbyes to the rest of the inspection party before signaling her to join him in his own personal landspeeder. She entered the rear compartment of his 8880 limousine landspeeder and was pleasantly surprised to find the vehicle was pressurized and maintained its own atmosphere. Culter's driver raced across the compound before entering a new hanger that had been built the day before and already had a docking shield that kept the Martian atmosphere at bay.

Culter's driver quickly exited and opened the door for his master and Phasma. Culter led her out of the hanger to a bay where several technicians were constructing large heat induction units to help warm the interior of the base.

"Construction seems to be moving at a lightning pace, Moff Culter." Phasma congratulated the Moff.

"Yes, I always like to get the things that take the longest set up first. We've already surveyed and laid out a masive street and sewage plan for the new city we're about to lay the foundations for, once we move above ground again." The two of them were using raised shouts over the noise of the construction, but Culter, in a rush to get his operation underway, still hadn't built himself an office. "The Gaussifer that I showed you isn't going to have a measurable effect for weeks, and even then we still won't be able to enjoy the effects of a working magnetosphere until sometime later in the year. It's a good thing you and your father came from Subterrel, you must have become used to life underground during that time."

"I doubt that Fleet Admiral Yos or I will be spending much time on the surface for some time. He does have a fleet to run you know. That's one thing I have come to talk with you about. What is your current prediction on getting planet-side ore-mining underway? The facility we have set up in the Phasma Belt," that nomenclature always felt strange to say for her, "is still a minimal output base and the time spent transporting that ore to the Carbon, now in orbit around this planet, could be better spent if we were extracting the ore from Earth 4."

"I agree. The effect of mining the metal-oxides of this world would release thousands of tons of oxygen into the atmosphere here. I have, however, two problems with that. First the magnetosphere isn't strong enough yet, and we would lose most of what we gained to the effects of solar winds. Secondly, I also don't have the manpower. I can't flood the planet with workers as there is simply not enough space for them yet. Every day this base grows larger, and can house more workers, but I have to put them to work on projects that either gets the terraforming effort underway for the long run or in efforts to expand the facilities here."

"Are you aware of the massive population of skilled workers we have languishing aboard the transports of this fleet, as well as a small army of dependents waiting to build a society as well as their own lives upon the surface of this planet."

"Yes, Phasma. I have almost three million non-military beings aboard my own squadron above, but Coruscant wasn't built in a day you know."

"We are aware of that, and your construction efforts have been exemplary compared to Moff Kuat, who hasn't even laid a single keel since his driveyard arrived in orbit." Phasma wondered about that, but the Kuati Moff seemed more concerned with smaller fighter craft and infantry armor systems for the Stormtrooper Corps at the moment, she supposed that was wise of him as he couldn't rightfully build ships without the mines and refineries put into operation. Although Kuat had promised the delivery of several greenhouse research stations once Culter had room for the workers needed to man them. That was promising, as food, if not a problem now, would be an issue sometime in the future. "His driveyards could employ tens of thousands of skilled workers, while we bring in unskilled labor from the Earth 3 to supplement the construction efforts here."

"Your Father's military plans can't bear fruition for almost a year as well. I'm well aware of the monumental efforts he is putting into refueling and rearming the fleet. That's one more thing; these requests from the Fleet Admiral as well as Moff Seco to start billeting troops and anti-aircraft emplacements must be put on hold for a period of no less than two months. We have already established that there is no presence of life forms here, and this base's security at this point could best be served by the fleet above, not by troops on the ground here."

"The thought was that those troops could start training for combat operations and the anti-aircraft could be used to defend against any fighters that got through the fleet, but I do see your point. The Earthling's capabilities for space combat are below non-existent, while I will also inform fleet command that you will not be prepared to receive troops for a period of no shorter than two months, you must promise to do whatever is necessary to get this world operating as a staging area for the birth of our new society, and even if you have to cut a few corners, this must be accomplished as quickly as possible."

"That is acceptable. My work force here is starting to double with each passing day, and the facility is starting to spread out underground." Culter explained.

"Good, at the two month mark I will inform Ground Command that they can transfer two battalions of troops here, with a legion's strength being possible during the third month time period. Does that sound reasonable?" Phasma asked. She never realized how much she shocked adults with her own command presence. Here she was giving orders to an Imperial Governor appointed by Palpatine himself, and not even batting an eye about it.

"Actually that sounds very reasonable. I can't be allowed to slow down with the terraforming efforts here, but your father did inform me that we would be using this planet as a staging point for any attacks on the third planet as well. I will be able to house most of the fleet's legions in half a year's time above ground with training facilities, much like the adaptive ones found on Kamino before the Clone Wars. We should also have ample storage facilities below ground for the army as well."

"Do we have those capabilities already?"

"Oh yes, besides the cloning machinery itself, much of the training regimen, ranges and machinations for artificial battlefield training were captured by the Empire after the second battle of Kamino. The Emperor was only concerned with the cloning technology while Grand Moff Tarkin swooped in and was able to secure most of the other material that survived the battle. His own personal OverSector Outer Stormtrooper legions have been some of the best trained troopers in the Empire's service because of it, and Tarkin intended on setting it all up as part of an Imperial Military Academy within the maw installation." Amazement at the resources the Grand Moff had secured for this venture swirled in her head.

"And you are planning on setting up this training base?"

"Yes, your father has already ordered it, but once again, it's not top priority material for transfer to the surface yet. You must secure me two full months before this place gets completely turned over to the military."

"Don't worry about that, until a time of war you will have complete say over what is done on this planet as long as it continues to further the goals of Tarkin's Fist. I have been ordered to remind you that we want to house ten legions on the surface as soon as conditions there are deemed safe by your staff and yourself."

"Of course. But don't worry too much, most parts of the planet will fall into our civilian sectors. If you'll excuse me I have another hundred details I have to see to and all of them at the same time." Phasma looked back over her shoulder and noticed a platoon of aides waiting for the Moff's attention. She was amused that they all found her to be of such high importance that they dared not interrupt her. "Let the Fleet Admiral know that he still has my complete support and he shall count on me to attend his Admiral's briefing as well."

"I will Moff Culter." They signaled their goodbyes and she walked back to the repulse-limo waiting to take her back to the shuttle she had been given as head of DiploServe. She thought of what Culter had said about her father having his support, and then grimly thought of which Moffs he didn't have the support of. It was an upsetting mystery.
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Inner Rim, Phasma Belt, Unknown Space

She should have known the frakin autopilot would have taken her straight into the worst possible situation imaginable. She had been busy looking for a smuggler's hold of some sort to stash her silver, gems, and her large stack of stolen credits, in case someone boarded her new ride, when klaxons started blaring throughout the light freighter. They almost scared the Force right out of her.

She rushed to the cockpit expecting to see an entire wing of blue TIE fighters barreling down on her tail, but was instead met with the sight of a sea of much more dangerous adversaries. Thousands upon thousands of colliding and drifting asteroids filled her viewport as she urgently took the starship off of autopilot. Ashla carefully weighed her options. She didn't have any nav points for her nav computer to initiate a hyperspace jump, not that it mattered because she seemed to have stolen a ship that was completely empty of hypermatter when she had checked. She couldn't return the way she came. Returning in a stolen starship was a quick ticket to the gallows, while she could have taken her chances and flown to that other planet that was giving off signals, her new ship's computer core couldn't make heads or tails of. The prospect of setting down on an alien world with nothing but a bunch of empty blasters and a lightsaber wasn't a very appetizing thought.

She checked the nav computer as she took the throttles in her hand and weaved past the first line of widely spaced debris. She was still picking up at least two transmissions ahead, one from inside the belt itself and the other around another planet that her long range sensors were just now picking up. She looked at that signal again and her computer core read it as a gas-mining facility and the language was in Ugnautese. Ugnaughts would tear her ship apart if she landed there, she feared.

The young Jedi remembered that the imperial technician aboard the Chain had told her that they were looking to free a large portion of slaves and put them to work at a drydock or an ore-mining base of some sort. When she had made her unchallenged escape she had noticed the presence of the drydock in orbit around that strange red-planet she had left behind, but what she hadn't witnessed was the presence of ore-haulers. That meant that the remaining transmission could only be coming from a mining operation within the belt itself.

Ashla had no idea what the odds were of successfully navigating an asteroid field, but they couldn't have been great. The last time she had flown was during her youngling training on Coruscant and that had mainly been atmospheric fighters and airspeeders. She was about to get the most dangerous refresher course the Togruta could imagine.

Suddenly two rocks collided right in her path sending their shattered remains in hundreds of directions. Ashla pulled hard on the stick and willed the nose of her ship to miraculously clear the cloud of debris in time. She listened as dozens of tiny impacts rocked her vessel. They reminded her of blaster hits as they rattled her hull. She hadn't taken the time earlier, but now searched frantically around the cockpit for some sort of shield controls. As desperation set in, a tremendously powerful collision shook her ship, she noticed several Kuat Drive Yard shield generator controls. She reached across the control panel and flipped the control switch to power them up as well as a navigational deflector system and a Koensayr Manufacturing-14 anti-concussion shield generator she noticed beside it. Green lights came to life all across the walls and control panels of the cockpit and Ashla noticed her ride start to smooth out as the shields came online. She tried to clear her mind and focus on her flying.

She wished that her natural echo locating montrals could have helped her out, but the appendages were only good in an atmosphere and deadly in a hunt. She knew she had something much better than montrals anyways. She breathed deeply and focused on the Universal Force around her. She felt the countless asteroids around her craft and through the use of the Force, could sense how their many varied paths would intercede with her starship. Within no time she was ducking and weaving through the field as if she was a seasoned smuggler on the Kessel Run.

Several larger asteroids merged in front of her, their masses shattering like pinballs, and she was barely able to turn across the face of the largest oneat the last possible moment. She raced for several seconds along its cratered surface for a good distance of what she estimated to be about sixty kilometers, when a piece of the massive asteroid broke off and hurled in her direction. The piece was about the size of a Bantha and was going to tear completely through her duralloy-plated hull. There simply wasn't any trick she could think of to avoid the disaster, and Ashla almost resigned herself to becoming one with the Force. Suddenly new lights flashed across her panel and a pair of Arakyd ST2 concussion missiles raced over the cockpit from their tubes located along the starboard side hull. She hadn't even been aware her ship was armed with the weapons as they blew the menacing asteroid chunk into dust. She flew through the dust cloud left by the violent destruction and was amused by the sound it made washing over her hull. It sounded like the rain she remembered as a baby on Shili.

"I fierfeking love this ship!" She screamed in her exhilaration. Ashla momentarily feared herself getting attached to this
vessel, but no Jedi had ever flown something so wizard she convinced herself.
As she passed deeper into the belt, that her nav computer was now telling her was named the Phasma Belt, she noticed the amount of asteroids was starting to thin out. She felt relieved as she was able to give a wide berth to the smaller rocks while at the same time had no trouble skimming the surface of some of the larger sized ones. She even came across one the size of a mountain range that showed obvious signs of recent mining activity.

That reminded her of why she had entered the asteroid field in the first place and she started scanning for the location of the facility again. She picked up the signal a little over two hundred and sixty thousand kilometers away on her port side and arched her ship into a wide banking turn in that direction. It was a matter of moments before she saw the well lit mine glowing in the distance. It took up a third of a large asteroid, and from what her scanners were picking up, she could tell there were mining prospectors all across the surface of the rock. Near the base itself, she detected an ore-hauler being loaded with minerals as two other craft of the same class waited in orbit around the rock waiting for their turn to approach and load up.

The best news of all for the fugitive was the presence of a dozen light freighters scattered around the landing port of the base. She checked their transponder codes and discovered that all but two of them were privately owned, and had only been released from the fleet within the past couple of days. Somebody wanted commerce up and running again she figured. The thought that if she was checking their codes then somebody might be checking hers startled her for a second, and she paused behind another passing asteroid for a moment.

Ashla rushed back to the circuitry bay and accessed the Hanx-Wargel SuperFlow V computer for its Imperial IFF transponder code. She discovered that she was standing aboard the Smoke Demon. While she couldn't say much for the name, the Smoke Demon was probably registered as stolen by now. She paused over the computer as she thought of a new designation for the ship. A sudden flash of her time with Master Kolar passed through her mind and she remembered it as being the happiest and brightest time of her life. Her fingers entered the name Agen's Light before she realized what they were doing. It was a fitting name she thought as she looked at the characters in aurebesh.
She made her way back to the cockpit where she turned the newly dubbed Agen's Light towards the mining colony. It was a matter of seconds before she was being hailed from the base ahead.

"Approaching freighter this is Phasma Belt Mining Facility what is your designation and cargo?" a flight control technician addressed her over her vessel's subspace communicator.

"Mining Facility this is Agen's Light. I'm delivering textiles and spare parts from the fleet." She lied. There was a short pause as Ashla eased her starship ever closer to the base, while at the same time looking for possible escape vectors if things went sour in a hurry.

"Agen's Light what vessel carried you here?" Ashla was worried, what if they weren't buying it, but then could someone reasonably be keeping a list of every light freighter and smaller starship that had come through the big jump with the fleet. There was only one starship she knew the name of in the system.

"I hail from the Imperial Container Ship the Chain." Which wasn't exactly a lie.

"Roger that, Agen's Light. The port is currently occupied. If you have an enviro-suit we recommend making a landing on the perimeter of the base." Her ruse had worked; evidently the technician below hadn't spent more than enough time to check the Chain's identity before clearing her.

"Copy that, Base." She flipped off her communicator and glided over the base out into the mining fields. She witnessed several red clad miners working over the surface of the asteroid, and was relieved to see that they weren't guarded or even being watched. So the stories had been true. There were freed slaves working out here in the asteroid belt, and by the way they seemed to be going about their jobs they must have been getting paid quite well for it too. Only a few of them even looked up at her passing, and one small group had several friendly members wave up at her.

She made another pass over the group and counted their number at being seven. They seemed to be gathered around a larger being who was manning some sort of plasma-based mining device. They weren't too far from the base so Ashla decided to put down near to them in case she couldn't locate an enviro-suit anywhere onboard. She remembered seeing a couple of rebreathers on the wall of the cockpit access corridor and hoped she wouldn't have to rely on just the use of one of those. Her montrals would freeze before she went a hundred meters.

The seven miners below waved at her inside the cockpit as she set her vessel down along side of them. They looked as if they had been packing up their gear when she arrived and she hoped she wasn't intruding too much. Most of them approached and disappeared under the hull except for a taller one she was almost positive was a Duro, though if it was a Neimodian, she had her lightsaber handy. The Duro looked around the front of her hull approvingly and she noticed two pudgy short beings that started following it around, pointing out items on her hull that she hadn't even noticed yet. Evidently these three knew starships, she thought.

There was a buzzing alarm as someone outside asked for entrance at the boarding ramp. She pushed the controls and watched the panel until it indicated the ramp was up and secure again. She left the cockpit and made her way back to the main hold where her four new guests greeted her. Two of the beings already had their helmets removed and appeared to be human females a little younger than her. Her teenage years had been spent on the run and she wasn't exactly sure how to approach other girls her age. It wasn't something the Jedi Order had ever bothered to teach her.
"Starship good you have." An Ishi Tib exclaimed as he removed his enviro-suit helmet. "I am Frip." He introduced himself in the comical way she found all Ishi Tib to be.

The biggest miner was still suited up as she introduced herself to the girls. It turned out they weren't humans after all, but Firrerreos instead. The still suited miner removed his large helmet to reveal himself to be a large well-built Gran. He held out his hand for her to shake. "Hello Miss. I'm Brakatak." She shook it.

Experimental Blaster Range, Kuati Orbital Laboratory Breakthrough, Mars Equatorial Orbit

Kuantus Kuat watched in anticipation as the Kuati Marine loaded up the Wookie bowcaster and took aim at his target. With a stab of the man's thumb on the firing stub the energized quarrel struck the target directly in its chest protection. A computerized readout instantly appeared on the Moff's datapad on the ballistic test report of the firing.

"That's the twelfth weapon that has failed to penetrate the armor, My Lord." Gage, his Kuati aide, exclaimed next to him.

"Yes, We are impressed as well." The new Stormtrooper anti-ballistic armor was exceeding all expectations. When the Fleet Admiral had approached him with the project to provide the Tarkin's Fist's legions with armor that would stand up to the Earthling archaic slugthrowers, he wasn't sure just how he would go about it. "We wish you to try the Verpine Shatter Gun next." He ordered the marine, who had a silly grin on his face when he was permitted to fire the exotic looking weapon. Boys with their toys, Kuantus thought.

The problem was that armor had been designed for so long to stand up to blaster and concussion weapons that armor-smiths had almost forgotten what it took to stop a high projectile slug. From what they had witnessed of the Earthling attacks on the Viper droids last month it was evident that the plastoid armor of the Stormtrooper Corps would have offered little protection for the troopers of the fleet. Though the holovids he had witnessed also showed that the Earth troops own body armor showed little resistance to the small blaster weapons of the Viper probots. This meant he didn't have to focus on designing new firearms as well.

The solution to the problem had actually been provided by the Earth beings themselves. Moff Kuat had been given access to one of the so-called computer laptops taken from the crude Earth shuttle and told by Captain Yutu of Fleet Intelligence how to access something called the Internet. When his own Kuati technicians had 'logged on' they discovered a wealth of information on the Earthling's own defensive systems. It was when one of his men was studying the application process of some of the enemy's armor vehicles that he came across an interesting notion. It was called honeycombing, and it involved several layers of honeycomb shaped tiles piled on top of each other. The geometric shape lent incredible strength to the armor, while new kinds of plastoid textile weaving techniques had been found by another of his researchers. The simplicity of the techniques had shocked Kuantus when he realized that no one back in the home galaxy had even considered the applications.

The new armor suits consisted of two layers of the new interwoven honey-combed plastoid sandwiching a layer of durasteel. There was no change in the basic shape of the design except that it weighed four extra kilos more than the original armor. Not enough to slow down a fit stormtrooper of the Empire.

The marine shot a silent round from the Verpine weapon and every researcher's eyes were instantly turned towards the armor standing on the far side of the range. Kuat's datapad showed a hairline fracture of the armor in the left breastplate, but that was the most amount of damage he had observed from any one of these types of weapons. He reminded himself that the armor had also already been shot twelve times in the past half hour.

He smiled with glee as he imagined the funding that would come from the Fleet Admiral. In all actuality, Yos controlled everything of value in the system, so Kuat felt no regrets when he desired a small piece of that wealth. Another thing that made him joyful was the fact that he didn't have any accountants and financial agents from the office of Imperial Research and Design looking over his shoulders. He could pack these new armor systems with as many upgrades and goodies as he could imagine. In another area of the ship he had a team designing a new body glove for the armor that was resistant to extreme heat and cold, and also had a feature that could constrict a wound when one was detected by the suit's sensors, as well as notify Imperial Medics of the extent of a trooper's injuries before they even arrived at the scene. The troopers of the fleet would get to serve in a suit of armor that was better than anything seen since the Clone War, and maybe even before that.

"When can you start putting the other systems in the prototype?" He asked the chief armorer who was standing nearby.

"Tonight I will have my team working around the clock, Moff Kuat." His rustic Druckenwellian accent proved harsh on Kuat's ears, but his report made him almost jump for joy. "We already have the retractable vibroblades installed in the power gloves, and it wasn't anything to install a Clone War era HUD in the helmet. That should be an improvement over what the Stormtroopers are using now. We're still reinforcing it against EMP attacks and getting the Bacta injectors to sit right in the armor has been a pain. We are using a lot of technology from the War to get the new applications to fit right. I think we are going to have to save the stealth application for the commando armor we are concurrently designing as well, but the white of these suits doesn't have the glossy finish which should allow the troopers to easily camouflage their suits, as well as a host of other specialized customizations that will be available to them once they're in the field. The prototype however will be ready tomorrow for field test by the Kuati test pilot you picked out."

"Yes, he should have quite a time putting the suit through all the tests we have lined up for him." Gage added.

"The suit is vacuumed sealed correct?" Kuat asked.

"Up to twenty minutes in a hard vacuum, and thirty minutes in an aquatic environment. It's also got a pressure depth of two hundred meters." The armorer informed him. "You can switch out the backpack for an oxygen tank like in the old Katarn Armor the clone commandos used to wear. Our Seatroopers should be able to maintain a bottom time of almost a day with the new rebreather tanks they are being issued."

"Impressive. We look forward to seeing it on the test range tomorrow." Kuat turned to his aide. "Gage, We have other projects to see to, correct?"

"Yes, Kuat of Kuat." Gage led his Moff off of the range. Once they were alone in the corridor he broke into conversation with Kuantus. "So what have you decided to name the new suit? Phase V armor of Stormtrooper Phase II, I can't recall how many versions of the Katarn armor had come down the pipeline, before the Emperor stopped ordering the gear for his Imperial Commandos."

"We thought perhaps Kuati Armor System, but We thought the Emperor or Tarkin might think the name too individualistic of one sector. Perhaps K-Armor for now?" Kuat mused.

"I believe the Fleet Admiral doesn't share the Emperor's views on individuality. Our own orders from the man seem to indicate more survivability for the stormtroopers using the weapons he wants us to design." Gage wondered aloud as they passed two Kuati researchers who bowed as the Kuat of Kuat passed by them. Kuantus barely noticed them.

"He has been ordered to ensure the lives of as many of the servicemen in the fleet as possible for such a time as the Grand Moff needs them. I fear though he may have bitten off more than a Sarlacc can swallow when he arrived in this system. Imagine his shock when he discovered a hostile planet already present when we arrived. They outnumber us several thousand times over you know."

Gage suddenly grew concerned. "My Lord, I am still not utterly convinced that the Earthlings should be considered enemy combatants. Besides destroying the Viper probes that were on their planet they haven't done anything aggressive towards our fleet as of yet."

"That may be true, but neither side seems eager to open a dialog with the other, besides we need them as a slave force or else we shall be suffering severe manpower shortages. Tarkin hadn't planned for fuel, food, and blaster gas shortages as well as major terraforming operations of a planet when he sent us here. I can't even start wide-scale production of this new armor until we are able to erect factories on the surface of Earth 4. There simply iaren't enough beings to fill all the jobs required. So if we don't enslave them or attack them we could have major mutinies within two standard years followed by starvation within the next five. It is the Empire's manner to find the way a planet best serves the Empire, not how the Empire serves the planet in question. As Palpatine once said, 'Submit or die, it concerns me not.'" He grimaced when he remembered how glad he had been that the remark hadn't been aimed at him.

"We are almost at the next testing site, my Lord." Gage indicated the large crowd of flight engineers and ship designers that were gathered in front of a strange looking TIE craft in the center of the launch bay they had just entered. Several of the designers came over and personally greeted the Moff. Kuantus had several design questions that they happily answered while Gage walked over and started his own quiet conversation with a trio of black-clad TIE test pilots near the new craft.

The new starfighter design in front of them had been heavily influenced by the information his researchers had gleaned off of the Earth's Internet as well. They had come across an Earth spy plane called an AWAC that served as a long range radar and signal interception platform. It seemed a logical descendant of the TIE/rc fighter when he had seen the report on the Earth craft, and so had commissioned this prototype craft he had cleverly named the TIE/WAC. It was based on the body of a TIE/sa bomber, except that the guts of the bomber had been ripped out to provide room for an advanced sensor suite and two intelligence personnel as well as a pilot.

Kuat ordered the test to commence and the three crew members boarded there craft. It had a set of landing gear attached to it, as its strange wings couldn't fit into one of the proper TIE racks in the rear of the launch bay. There was the small hum of the engines and smell of ozone, as the craft lifted off and retracted its landing gear. The TIE/WAC passed through the docking shield and then paused its flight about two hundred meters beyond the Breakthrough's hull.

"Commence employment of the device." ordered the chief designer on the project, a man he had hired away from the Tagge Industries Shipyards Limited, if Kuantus remembered right. Kuat brought all of his attention to the TIE outside as the craft's solar array wings started to mysteriously unfold to a length of almost one hundred and fifty meters, much too large to fit into a conventional hanger, the sensor dishes ringed the solar collecting center of the TIE/WAC's wings. The craft's dish array's could now pick up signals and data an entire system away, and could detect enemy forces further than any star destroyer in the Imperial Navy.

Kuat stared at a map reader that had been set up in the hanger and watched as the TIE/WAC fed the device HoloProjected information from the entire system. Kuat was dumbfounded as large asteroids and planetoids came into sensor range from beyond the edge of the local system. A treasure trove of data was being downloaded from the signals originating from the third planet, and one of the nearby technicians gasped that he was worried about keeping up with the sheer volume of signal intercepts that he was picking up.

"I'd say your ship is a success, Lieutenant." Gage signaled the man over the comlink.

"Just waiting for structural testing, Sir." The pilot responded. Everyone in the bay turned to Kuat and waited for his approval.

"Commence the tests." He ordered. The command was communicated to the spycraft's crew and the TIE lurched off into surrounding space. Kuat again paid attention to his own datapad and monitors that had been set up for the test. The TIE/WAC clearly didn't have the speed of other TIEs, but it really didn't need to be all that speedy. It boasted no armament to speak of and Kuat was already making mental notes on how to equip the vessel with a deflector shield generator and a hyperdrive if they ever got any hypermatter in Tarkin's Fist again.

"Sensors are showing the arrays and the wings are showing negative structural damage with maneuvering in a vacuum." The designer reported.

"It's not a craft I would recommend to a commander to use within gravity wells or an atmosphere though." Kuat answered and the man nodded in agreement. "The domed wings will probably prove too fragile in those conditions."

"Shall we commence atmospheric tests on Earth 4 though, My Lord?" Gage asked. Kuat was interrupted by a chime on his datapad. When he looked to see who the sender was he smiled to the group..

"That won't be necessary." He held up his datapad. "I already have here an order for four TIE/WACs from Captain Yutu from Imperial Intelligence." Most of the design team applauded and slapped each other on the back in congratulations.
He waited a moment to bask in the glow of scientific achievement before continuing. "This is just one more tool to be used in the conquest of Earth gentlemen. Keep up the fantastic work." He turned to his aide. "What's next?"
Oceanus Procellarum, Lunar Surface, Eagle Base, Unknown Space

"That's a pretty sweet rifle you have there, Comrade." The NASA Colonel listened as one of his NAU astronauts traded weapons with a Chinese Taikonaut on guard duty outside of his command bunker. He sat awaiting the next Orion II shuttle from Earth to arrive.

The Chinese had arrived with all of their men a few days after they had made contact with Eagle Base. Their arrival, along with two dozen side arms and a specially constructed AK-107 rifle that had been converted to fire in a hard vacuum for ballistics testing, had bought the Chinese astronauts three seats on the Unity.

The shuttle had been stripped of all its nonessentials and he had been able to get twenty civilian personnel as well as the three Chinese aboard for evacuation home. It had been several weeks, but the Freedom was due to arrive in a few hours to hopefully take more people off of the moon.

The Chinese hadn't been a bad influence on his base either. They had fit right into the duty roster, and their commander had ordered them to follow the chain of command as if they were on their own base. The Major in charge of the ChiCom base had even told him how they had wired their base for demolition if intruders searched it after they were gone. He had led NAU sapper teams to wire Eagle Base in much the same manner over the past few days. Most of the Chinese Taikonauts had served as commandoes or pilots in Taiwan and Central Asia over the past two decades and the Colonel was sure he wouldn't want to fight any of the men if push came to shove.

From what he had gathered, they were just glad to go home, even if they did have to hitch a ride with the North Americans. He spent the next few hours trying to communicate with the approaching shuttle before its successful landing brought it onto the end of his runway. Several of his astronauts in protected suits hurried to unload the shuttle before any of the strange new alien spy ships came overhead again.

He met them in one of the airtight bunkers of the colony where they started unloading the crates and cargo of Freedom. He was happy to see several dozen specially modified Bushmaster adaptive combat rifles as well as a plethora of small arms and grenades amongst the delivery.

"Colonel, come over here, please." The Chinese Major signaled to him. Several men of both nationalities had opened several large crates of what at first looked like water heaters from his distance. He soon recognized their familiar shapes when he peered into the crate.

"XSEI-46s," he let out a whistle of approval. "You see Major, this is America's answer to your spaceplane. These are highly experimental space fired anti-aircraft missiles. They should make the aliens sit up and take notice."

"Are they radar guided?" The Chinese officer asked.

"Of course. Be hard to control one with the naked eye in space."

"Then it remains to be seen of their effectiveness against the aliens and their 'H' fighters." The Colonel frowned at the Major's off-handed remark.

"Colonel, take a look at this missile." One of his own men yelled from across the room, and the whole group gathered around to look at the new weapon. The thing was a lot bigger than the other projectiles they had been delivered. The Colonel saw the questioning look on the Major's face as he looked between the Colonel and the weapon.

"Yes Major. That's a nuclear bomb."
---------------------------------------------------------
Detention Level, Imperial II-class SD Quill, Polar Martian Orbit.

Yutu had avoided interrogating the Terran prisoners for four days now. Their annoying habit of sticking to their ridiculous Geneva Accords, as well as the abundance of information his technicians were gleaning from the security-lax Earth's World Wide Web, had led to the Intelligence Chief's prolonged absence from the Detention Level.

After being held captive for seven days, which he had only recently learned was the length of one of their weeks, instead of the normal five days, he figured they would be in a much better mood for conversing. As an extra incentive he had Loquasin and Xebonica administered to the prisoners earlier this morning when the medical droids had been doing routine physical examinations on the so-called 'astronauts'.

Two Naval Trooper guards were situated at the entrance of every prisoner's cell as a precaution against whatever these mysterious Earth beings were capable of. His march down the red lit narrow corridor was accompanied by the clanging of his boots on the metal grates that covered the deck. One of the medical droids heard his approach and excused himself from the prisoner he was examining to have a word with the Captain.

"Good Morning, Captain Yutu." The GH-8 droid greeted him.

"Morning, are the prisoners ready for interrogation?"

"Yes Sir, they have all been administered with the drugs you requested. The first one injected was the female ground commander of their surface base. She will be feeling the most effected of all the prisoners by now."

"Excellent, continue to inform me of any medical needs the prisoners have." Yutu turned and started to move towards the cell where he knew the female Earthling to be located.

"Actually Captain, there is one thing." The GH-8 held out a medical datapad. Most of the health information escaped the intelligence agent, as he skimmed over its contents.

"Yes?"

"The prisoners are starting to show signs of fatigue, weakness, and confusion. Their payload specialist from the captured shuttle has even developed a strange twitching in his muscles." The droid informed him.

"Odd. Take them to the gym later under heavy guard and let them get some exercise. It'll do them some good after being locked away."

"Yes Sir, but it could be something related to their diet as well. They have eaten nothing but food from our own galley since they arrived onboard our starship."

"That could be another possibility. Get with Lieutenant Knebler from Intelligence and see what they did with the provisions we found on their shuttle. We'll see if any of that helps."

"Yes Sir." The droid excused itself back to the prisoner it had been examining, while Yutu continued to the cell that held Major Martinez. He pondered the new mystery that the droid presented, and wondered what could be affecting each of the prisoners in the same manner. He put the question aside as the door to the cell opened. Each of the guards seemed to tense up a bit as he entered the room.

Major Martinez sat on the small bunk on one side of the room while Yutu took a seat in the only chair located across from her. To his amusement the prisoner seemed to be singing a song about some place called Tripoli or Montezuma from what he could tell of it. He knew from experience that it was the effect of Loquasin that made her unable to stop talking, singing, laughing, or even screaming if he decided to bring torture into their conversation.

She looked at him with a sneer and started repeating her mantra. "Major Ana Gonzalez Martinez, Serial Number 345-55-
9583, Major Ana…" with the drugs in her she was more than willing to babble on throughout the entire interview.

"Yes, we've been over all of that, Major." He pulled out his datapad and accessed the file he wanted. She kept repeating her name, rank, and serial number, but at a much lower volume as she listened to him. He sometime wondered who was learning more about the other whenever he interrogated one of these new prisoners.

"Let's see. Yes, here it is. Ana Gonzalez, born in Nuevo Laredo in the state of Tamaulipas in the North American Union. Graduated from the Naval Academy at Anapolis, Maryland in the top ten percentile of your class, married another cadet after graduation. An Edward Martinez, but the marriage only lasted two years before he filed for a divorce while you were stationed onboard the NAS Fallujah. You led a company of marines during the occupation of Caracas, Venezuela, where your unit suffered almost twenty percent casualties before being one of the last units out of that city, previous to it being retaken by Union of South American Nation's forces. Afterwards you served on the Guatemalan Border for a year before doing your flight training at Pensacola, Florida. You were serving at the airbase outside of Havana when you got the call from NASA to start astronaut training. You must have been so proud."

He glanced at her for just a second, and was amused to see that her eyes were wide and boring a hole right through him. Her mantra had stopped and she had begun to softly sing her song again. He would have to remember to look up the lyrics on the Earth's Internet when he got a chance.

"After two years of training at both Houston, Texas and Cape Canaveral, Florida, you served for fourteen months at Eagle Base on your planet's local moon. You were passed over for the second Mars Mission, but secured a posting as the ground commander for the fourth. You have no children and both of your parents are deceased. I also found your online profile on the social networking sites to be quite humorous. Now Major, are you willing to talk?"

She let go with an expletive he had never come across, and he had served for over a decade in the Imperial Navy. At least it was something different than her normal rant.

"Where did you learn Basic?" he asked.

"I didn't go to boot camp. I got my initial training at the Academy." She suddenly seemed more eager to chat, but he could tell she was remaining guarded.

"Academy? No, not your basic training. I meant where did you learn your language?" The oddity of coming across a planet in a foreign galaxy that spoke roughly the same language had perplexed high command to no end, and Yutu knew it was one of the questions the fleet admiral desired an answer for.

"I learned Spanish and English from my parents. Why, where did you learn yours?" She threw back at him.

"From my own actually. How long has your race been speaking these languages?"

"My race, do you mean Mexicans?"

"I have no idea what a Mexican is. What I meant was Earth. How long has Earth been speaking the language that the two of us are speaking now?"

"I don't know, since the middle ages perhaps. Six hundred years or more, I guess. Before that they spoke native tribal languages, and I think a little German and Latin." She seemed to genuinely not know where her language came from, and he could sympathize because he had no idea how Galactic Basic Standard had come to the Empire either, but one of her answers had set off alarm bells.

The day before one of his men had noticed how signals coming from an area of Earth calling itself the European Union as well as another named the Union of the South American Nations, all spoke languages that seemed to derive from High Galactic. When the man had studied it a bit further he discovered the languages all had the same root in something called Latin. When the man put samples of Latin next to High Galactic they had appeared almost identical.

"Let's change the subject shall we. Neither of us is claiming to be a linguistics expert. We have discovered through the other captives," Yutu lied, "the purpose of your mission on the fourth planet. Evidently you were setting up some type of airspeeder base so that you could bring in large amounts of supplies for a colony."

"For the most part." She couldn't stop herself from talking even if she ripped out her own tongue, he thought. "I'm not sure what an airspeeder is, but we were hoping to lay out enough space for one of the Orion IIs to land on some future mission." He had already read detailed articles on the Martian Mission, but he needed her to accept him and develop a friendlier attitude towards Yutu as well.

"We sent several Viper Probe Droids into your system early last month. While on Earth each of the nine droids there, were attacked and destroyed by your defensive forces. How come you and your 'Astonauts' refrained from attacking the two droids that were sent to Mars? We know that both of them had your small base under constant surveillance."

"We saw them in the distance several times. We called them robots though. I don't have any idea what a droid is. They were easy to pick out because they always kicked up a bunch of dust whenever they moved about. Our Engineer Patch spotted one by our runway one day, but we didn't have anything to attack it with."

"If you were armed would you have attacked?"

"If we were attacked we would have defended ourselves, but we were also picking up scattered transmissions from Earth about pretty bloody battles with the things there. So I ordered my men to keep their distance. About three days before we were jumped by those Navy SEALs of yours, was the last time we ever noticed them. We did start picking up pretty obvious signs that your other boys were in the neighborhood though." That will be pleasant to tell the commandoes he figured.

"Why were the probes attacked on Earth? They seemed to be attacked everywhere."

"I don't know. They were on our land. We just went through a big war. Nobody trusts each other anymore like they did in the old days. There's a ton of reasons why. I wasn't there, so I couldn't tell you." She was starting to slur her words.

"Is your planet willing to make reparations for the destruction of the Emperor's property?"

"Emperor?" She laughed loudly. "You guys have an Emperor. We haven't had one of those in years. Well I can't speak for anybody else, but I doubt you'll be able to get any money out of the NAU. They're a little touchy about losing Americans."

"What about other nations. We do know you were in a war. How many other nations are there on your planet?"

"I'd say close to two hundred or so." By the Emperor's ears, they had their own Galactic Republic down there.

"Who's in charge of them all? Is there some sort of unifying supreme government?"

"We've got the United Nations, but nobody really listens to them. Beginning of the century everyone joined into Unions.
Those are the big dogs now." She started to stare intently at the walls of her cells, and he knew it wouldn't be long before she passed out from the effects of the drugs.

"How many Unions are there?" he asked.

"There's us, and we just fought the South Americans for their oil." Another small piece of data for his men to research. "The Europeans helped them out. Then you've got China and the Russian Federation. Everyone else, besides maybe Israel, you don't have to worry about. They're all light weights. Well maybe India and Pakistan. They've got nuclear weapons too…" She flopped down on her cot.

"Did you say nuclear weapons?" he shockingly asked her prone body, before he ran the playback from the cell's surveillance cameras. She did say again 'Nuclear weapons' in the camera's playback. He sucked in an audible gasp, those hadn't been used since the Battle of Secoro during the Mandalorian Wars, if he remembered his history right. He had wanted to ask her about Mandalorians being located somewhere on her planet as well, but figured that would be a question for the next captive.

He rose from his chair and tucked his datapad under his arm as he passed between the two guards who came to attention as he left the cell. He listened as the door slammed shut with a swooshing sound. He made his way to the Shuttle Commander's cell. If he was even a little bit as informative as Major Martinez had been Yutu would be well on his way to better understanding these Earth breed of humans. More importantly he would have more of the answers to the Fleet Admiral's questions, and in the Intelligence business that was worth its weight in gold. The next cell door slid open and another astronaut waited for him.


Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, NAU, Earth

The Realtor was coming home a happy man once again. He wistfully contemplated his recent change of luck as he pulled his hybrid car into the driveway of his family's two story home. Five properties in one week he had closed deals on. Five properties that had sat dormant on the market for over a year, and each of the buyers had agreed to the original asking price from the owners.

All ready, thoughts of what to spend his commission checks on, danced through his mind. Of course his wife would want the money to pay for the twin's school, but with the amount he had just made, they could attend private school all the way until they left for college. He even had some money left over for that, when the time came.

He thought about the properties he had sold, five country estates, well away from any cities. Each of the buyers had been government employees of a sort; two from the treasury department, another from the FBI, a high ranking officer in the Navy, and even one family who he had been sure of was CIA. He figured they just wanted their privacy, though it didn't really matter to him in the end. As long as their Amero's were good. If they all wanted to make the hour and a half drive to Washington DC every morning, then let them. He would stay in Harrisburg and try to figure out why he couldn't move any of his city-properties.

He walked into the kitchen of his home and kissed his wife on the cheek. She informed him that dinner would be late, but that he had several messages on their answering machine about the Edson's estate. Another rural property, he thought, huge basement and even a well, which he had thought was quaint the first time he had seen it.
He figured he'd return the calls in the morning when he got to work. Too bad all the reported sunspot activity lately had all but fried his cell phone, he missed having it for calls when he was out at a property, same with his satalite tv, though his digital cable was still working just fine. The news never stopped talking about it. He waved at the twin nine-year old girls on the back porch playing with their telescope, as he sat down in front of his own computer. Behind him the TV reported the nightly news.

He listened with one ear as he checked his e-mail, the anchor reported on the Congressional hearings of the months ago toxic chemical spill in Idaho, that had killed all those people and Colorado National Guard troops in Yellowstone. The next story was about the investigation into the Mexico City terrorist bombings that had occurred about the same time. He remembered wondering why there had never been any first-hand coverage of the bombings at the time, but after a month and a half with nothing new, he barely gave the story any attention.

He checked the news sites on-line, and saw that his whack-job brother had sent him another video of that Iranian guy blowing up that alleged robot in the middle east. He just rolled his eyes, the same as when his brother had tried to convince him that it wasn't an undercover NAU special forces team that had killed all those people in Brazil, at the same time as the Mexico City bombings, even though both governments admitted it was. His brother just spent too much time in conspiracy websites, he figured. He wondered why his brother didn't get a job with all the defense plants that had recently reopened in the past months.

The next news story was about the Peace-time Conscription Bill, but his daughters were much too young to worry about that, so he didn't pay it much attention.

His girls chose that moment to wave at him through the window, urging him to join them outside. The Realtor waved back to signal that he would be right there. A year ago they had bought them a top-of-the-line telescope, since both girls had shown a strong interest in Astronomy after a field trip to the local planetarium. They had been so thrilled when they had spotted the lights of Eagle Base on the moon when they had first received the gift.

He stepped outside and the twins asked for him to take a look through the view scope. Immediately the red surface of Mars leapt out at him. "It's Mars, we've seen it before?" He shot a quizzical look at the girls, who smiled and handed him one of their laptops, which had been connected to the digital telescope.

An enhanced image of a city covered the screen. "What? Did you photoshop an image of Vegas onto Mars's surface?" He asked. They both giggled. "Nope that's right where the Mars Mission should be. We didn't enhance it one bit. There really is a city on Mars."

Why hadn't he heard of this before? The hair on the back of his neck rose, with such astronomically minded kids, why hadn't they heard anything about the Mars Mission lately, it had almost disappeared from the news. The Realtor swallowed hard, why didn't his own home have a basement and a well?
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Briefing Room, Acclamator II-class SD Moon, Martian Equatorial Orbit

The briefing room was filled to the brink with Clone Marshal Commanders who had heeded the call from Bacara to join him in finding a clone sanctuary. The place was brightly lit and arranged in a semi circle with entrances on both ends. An inactive map reader sat in the center of the room while a large viewport filled the wall on the far end.

Bly, Neyo, Odd-ball and five other high ranking clone commanders, as well as himself, made up the contingent representing the Acclamator Fool. CC-2224 was greeted by several Vod he hadn't seen in months. He nodded to Deviss from the old 327th Star Corps and his friend A'den who had led the embattled 7th Legion during the war. Most of his party broke off to greet and catch up with old comrades who were lounging around the briefing room. Somebody mentioned that Bacara's personal shuttle was running late and they were to pass the time as best they could. Cody was surprised to see a pair of astromech droids serving alcohol to the senior clones.

Cody took a seat next to Bly and A'den, who congratulated him on his successful capture of the humans on Mars a few weeks before. Cody leaned back on his helmet that he had placed behind him and ordered an Ebla Beer from one of the serving droids.

"Odd way to run a briefing." He told A'den.

"I don't think old stoneface Bacara's sending us into battle anytime soon. Our own Moff seems more occupied with terra forming the planet below, that you so graciously captured for him." A'den jested. Almost every clone commander had ribbed him over the fact that the captured earthlings on Mars were never even armed, and that he had spent three days sneaking up on defenseless Earthians.

"Plus my troopers haven't got a whiff of tibanna for their blasters." A clone behind him stated. Cody turned and saw his old training vod Salvo from the old Kamino training grounds.

"Su'cuy gar Salvo." He turned and clasped arms with his old ba'jur vod.

"This is the most shabla game of nuna-ball I've ever seen." Bly leaned back on his elbows and indicated the game that was on the giant viewscreen. Cody noticed that several of the clone officers were loudly showing their interest in their viewing of the game. It almost reminded him of limmie hooligans.

"It's not nuna-ball or rather it's a lot like nuna-ball, except they call it football." Salvo explained.

"Who call's it that?" Cody noticed for the first time that the players weren't the normal droid athletes, but human players instead. "Where is this from?"

"It's from a sporting arena on Earth. The fleet's getting a ton of broadcasting mirdala with their new fangled TIE/WAC fighters they've got stationed out beyond the picket line." Salvo explained.

"I heard about that. Fleet Admiral Yos is piping sporting events to the HoloVids of the fleet. It keeps the troop's minds off of their boredom, so we don't throw a fit." A'den threw in. "They've even got a game a lot like limmie, though they call it football too. Strange world were you have two sports with the same name."
"Your troopers aren't getting any blaster gas either, huh?" Cody asked him.

"It's not a good thing to have a bunch of surly troops with easy access to loaded blasters." Bly suggested over his shoulder.

Cody indicated the game. "So are the rules about the same as nuna-ball?"

"As far as anyone's been able to determine. That's some crazy looking armor they've got on, isn't it?" Salvo indicated the oddly-clad players. "They're not even ripping each other's heads off or punting rodents? Seems a little soft to me."

"I hope that's what they're wearing when my troopers go up against them. There's no gut protection and that helmet's ridiculous for a combat environment." Bly suggested. "How many broadcasts are we being allowed to watch?"

"I heard several hundred, and all of them are sports channels so far. The Fleet Admiral doesn't want us to get to know the enemy too well before we face them." A'den answered. "We might feel sorry for them as we blast them down."

Salvo spoke up before anyone else could. "There are hundreds of channels for just sports? What do they think they are? Imperial Center?"

"I've never heard of a planet with so much broadcasting power. This is pretty poor quality though. Do they also have 3D HoloImaging as well?" Cody asked.

"Not that much, and they seem to put it into their HoloDramas, and even that is a form of fancy 2D imaging. Those are slowly being cleared for viewing by Fleet Intelligence." A'den was a wealth of information.

"What teams are playing?" Bly asked. The man hadn't a care in the world. The only thing he ever worried about was completing a mission and meeting friendly enough girls. Cody wished life was that simple.

Cody read the alternative basic writing that scrolled underneath the players and across the screen. "One of the teams is from somewhere called Chicago, and they seem to have twice the number of points than the team from somewhere else called Mexico City."

"Well I'm going to root for the Mexico City team. I've always liked an underdog." Bly sat up straighter when the viewscreen cut to a shot of females in short skirts on the side of the playing field. "Has anybody heard when we're getting sent to Earth?" He asked slyly as his fellow alit laughed at him.

The crowded room watched the game for the better part of an hour and Cody finished his beer as well as the two he ordered after it. The officers started picking up on the nuances of the game and raucous cheering followed any play they figured was well handled by whichever team they were cheering for. Everyone whistled or applauded whenever the broadcast showed the scantily clad females.

"Ke'sush!" Somebody screamed from one of the entrances and Cody felt his body automatically snapping to attention. He wasn't the only one, as the whole room showed respect to their arriving commander. Out of the corner of his eye he recognized Clone Admiral Commander Bacara strolling into the room.

Bacara sneered at the usage of mando'a. He had been trained by a Journeyman Protector from Concord Dawn instead of the Cuy'val Dar on Kamino, and the throwing around of mando'a phrases that was common amongst the Kamino clones had alienated Bacara during the Clone War. Though much to his credit, instead of hating his brothers for making him an outsider, Bacara had turned his isolation around, and offered an entire army of them salvation. Tens of thousands of them had responded to his call.

The viewscreen blinked out of existence as Bacara took his place at the front of the briefing room. "Udesii, at ease." Cody took a seat again. It was evident the mando'a left an unfamiliar taste in the Clone Admiral's mouth.
Bacara signaled another clone and the map reader in the center of the gathered clones came to life. A blue and green planet came to life. Cody noted the presence of large oceans separating several continents, as well as smallish looking ice caps at the poles.

"I have just come from the Fleet Admiral's briefing along with our 'esteemed' Moff Culter." Bacara started his report with humor, which was also strange for the man. Moff Culter was widely viewed as an empty uniform when it came to the command structure of the Clonetroopers. "A lot of information has come from our captives, as well as the discovery of a secret HoloNet like code embedded in their satellites by Fleet Intelligence. The hostile planet is named Earth, as many of you know, and Marshal Cody conquered the fourth planet named Mars all by himself." There was a ruffle of laughter across the room, and A'den nudged him with his elbow.

"General consensus among high command is if they don't submit to a request for new workers that the Fleet Admiral is preparing, then we can expect to invade in about a year's time." Bacara dropped the bomb. The Clonetroopers were tired of war. They had followed Bacara because of the promise of retirement and safety. They had seen enough of their vod die, and with the fraking Kamino ageing process that caused them all to have half the normal lifespan, they would be seeing more of them passing away, and soon. "I have assurances from the Fleet Admiral, as well as Moff Culter, that our Corps will be used for security on Mars and held as a strategic reserve for the Stormtroopers that will be sent into the thick of it. Yos doesn't want to lose any more troopers than he has to. Remember he leads this fleet at Tarkin's discretion, and he needs to save this army for a time when the Grand Moff calls for them."

Bacara pushed a button on a small device he had hidden in his palm and the HoloImage changed to one that rotated between 3D blue images of Earth soldiers, weapons and equipment. "These are some examples of what we can expect to face on Earth. As you can see, we have only detected humans as the sole sentient life form on the planet. We all know how to kill humans. They may actually be a weaker breed, as I hear the food they're serving them aboard the Quill seems to be making them ill. We also know they are a warrior society and have fought several large scale conflicts in the past century, as well as maintaining large standing armies. Their government is quite fragmentary which seems to have split the planet's inhabitants along many different factions. We're not exactly positive yet, but the strongest seem to be the North American Union located on the lesser continental mass, and the ChiCom located in the eastern portion of the greater continental mass. A word of warning, there are unsubstantiated rumors of the presence of Mandolorians fighting for the ChiCom." That sent low volume discussion flapping around the room. "That is to be suppressed amongst the troops until it is confirmed. Several of the other nations seem to throw their support from one side to the other depending on economical factors, but Intelligence's assessment is they will all unite against us, so every Earthling will be considered hostile. They do have some sort of unifying government agency located in the North American Union, but it is generally considered ineffective. It seems to be structured along the lines of the Imperial Senate, and we all know what a great job they do." Cody thought Bacara must be getting exhausted. He had never heard the Clone officer say so much at one time.
"As for their military forces, you can expect several formidable armored landspeeders, but their infantry seems to carry repeating slugthrowers. I know our armor is meant for blasters, but Moff Kuat has promised the delivery of a new slug-proof armor system. I've seen the prototype and it looks like we'll be geared up in Stormtrooper armor again." Cody patted the phase II clone helmet he was leaning against. "Everyone here will be receiving detailed Intelligence updates on the state of the Earth's weapon systems that we will be facing. I intend for each of you to inform your troopers of the information as it becomes available."

Bacara paused for a minute and seemed to be looking down at the deck. He raised his head and faced his clones again. "Vod, this isn't what I intended for you when I asked you to follow me into the maw. I had visioned a place where we could all quickly grow old and raise our children, but now that dream is threatened by a species that is upset we've shown up on their doorstep. Fleet has determined that they are already mobilizing their reserves, and industry and research has increased across their world. We estimate that they won't stop until they've chased us completely out of their system, but we haven't got anywhere to run to. So we will fight. I want each of you to know that you are the elite troopers in Tarkin's Fist. You are not some Stormtrooper scum from the backwaters of Dantooine. You are Clonetroopers and you are bred for war!"

"You only exist to fight, and finally after so many years you finally have a cause as well. When you go into battle I want one thought on your minds." Bacara steadied himself for the unfamiliar words. "Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur!" There was a rousing cheer as Clone Admiral Commander finished his speech.

Cody clapped his hands and agreed when the day arrived that he was sent to Earth, he would carry the Admiral's words with him.

Today is a good day for somebody else to die.

Command Bridge, Imperial I-class SD Insertion, Earth Approach

"We have multiple Earth-based tracking stations targeting this Star Destroyer." The hidden Imperial Security Bureau agent announced under his guise as Bridge Commander Volt.

"Raise forward shields, and bring the crew to general quarters." Captain Halser ordered as he stood with his arms behind him, above both of the crew pits. An alarm chime sounded and Eritech imagined crewmen aboard the Insertion rushing to their duty stations. "Launch Bandigo Squadron as a fighter screen and have Zillo on standby in the ready racks."
For the past week, they had been the furthest warship on the extreme end of the fleet's picket line and had been currently holding a position from Earth that was a few million kilometers past its own moon. The Insertion was much closer to the hostile planet than any starship in the fleet had dared to venture before. With just enough blaster gas in the turbolasers for a short defensive battle, Captain Halser was taking an extremely risky move.

None of the Earth vessels they had seen so far, had posed a credible enough threat to the huge star destroyer, but the newest intelligence was indicating the presence of several thousand nuclear weapon devices on the planet. Eritech knew the Galactic Empire maintained several of the archaic weapons as well, but their usage had gone out of fashion several millennia ago. The radiation such weapons left in their wake on most battlefields and planets, had caused commanders to pass over the deployment of atomic weapons in favor of more powerful turbolasers and ion cannons. Eritech was sure the existance of antique nuclear bombs had actually been forgotten by most of the Empire's citizenry. Now the mere presence of them had his warship on alert.

Eritech would have laughed if the situation wasn't so infuriating. The undefeatable Imperial Navy, even if this group of sector fleets was crewed by a bunch of traitorous scum, was cowering from a bunch of aboriginals on some backwater world no one had ever heard of. Eritech knew from his COMPNOR training that they should have already invaded, blaster gas shortages be damned, and enslaved that world's population. They should be setting up garrisons there, while dragging the population into enslavement for the furtherment of the Emperor's will.

The sheer presence of an Imperial Star Destroyer entering one's atmosphere should convince these Earth primitives to throw up their arms. Eritech would have done it too, if he wasn't convinced that every pair of eyes onboard the Insertion was already studying his every move. The so-called 'Investigators' from the ridiculous Bureau of Operations had debarked from his vessel before they had took up their new station, but Eritech still felt their presence. He knew very few of the crew on his own starship, but since his interrogation by Lieutenant Commander Travles and his sidekick Major Just, he noted each new face he came across with increasing paranoia.

His own appearance raised a curious look from Captain Halser when he had reported for duty a week ago. In the privacy of his own quarters he had painfully cut out the subcutaneous comlink out from under his skin. He had used an unpowered vibroblade to cut the microphone that had been implanted by ISB surgeons near his throat, and with the aid of mirrors carefully sliced the speaker that had been placed behind his ear. Shortly thereafter he took a nasty spill and collision with a fragile map reader while he was in the Stellar Cartography Station of the Navigation Deck in order to cover his self inflicted injuries. The navigation crewmen and quartermasters that had been in the station at the time were so shocked that a senior officer had injured himself in their duty station that they rushed him straight to the MedBay. As Commander Volt, he knew the exact shift that was manned by the most junior medic. The corpsman had treated his injuries, but hadn't noticed that they had evidently been self-inflicted like a much more experienced man might have.

The rest of the spy kit ISB had issued out to him had to be destroyed as well. The subcutaneous comlink made sense, as there was no possible way of contacting ISB, or anyone else on Imperial Center, while Tarkin's Fist was in its current location. He feared he would need a transmitter the size of a star destroyer to reach his superiors now. He hated to lose the small electronic lock breaker he had hidden in the sole of one of his boots. The device was his best chance of accessing computer locks, entering secured areas, and bypassing alarms. He dumped the two devices along with his remaining mauler virus and hide-away blaster in the Insertion's garbage chute, and hoped the starship's trash compactors would take care of the evidence for him.

As far as he was concerned, Major Eritech of the ISB was no more, while he would fully immerse himself in his false identity of Bridge Commander Volt. It was a act a master spy would have performed, he thought.
Captain Halser had also distanced himself from the Bridge Commander lately, and Eritech wondered how much the Bureau agents had informed his commander. Their conversations over the past week had been mostly about ship operations and the issuing of orders, and had been for the most part rather short. There had certainly been an air of suspicion, whenever Halser addressed him these days. Whenever the Captain was on the command bridge with him, he usually spent his time conversing with the deck officers or the crew. Fraternizing with the crew and others of a lesser status was a trait of an inferior officer, the hidden mole believed.

"We have a TIE/WAC in bound." The crewman at the subspace radar station reported.

"He's asking for permission to land, Captain." Another officer at the flight operations control station informed the bridge.

"Granted." Eritech and his Captain both responded at the same instant. Both men looked at each other, before the superior officer nodded his approval. The Insertion hadn't been issued any of the new spy craft and the recon fighter had the flight range to make it to any warship in the fleet, so something must be wrong, Eritech pondered.

"Captain, the pilot is reporting that they were damaged by hostile fire over Earth. They are requesting medical personnel to be standing by, in the main TIE hanger. They have one wounded man onboard." Eritech moved over to the deck located above the flight control station to better judge the situation.

"Notify MedBay to get some corpsmen down there." Halser ordered.

"How'd they get hit?" Eritech asked the Naval Ensign below him. The young officer spoke something into his comset and listened for a moment.

"ETA two minutes." Another technician reported. Halser walked over to listen to flight op's answer.

The crewman looked up at his superiors before responding. "Sir, it seems they were on routine patrol in a high orbit around the third planet when they were engaged by several anti-satellite missiles. They were able to avoid one of the weapons, but the second missile exploded in their flight path. Their craft was perforated by shrapnel and the pilot is reporting that they are leaking atmosphere to the point where they've engaged their emergency life support. One of his technicians aboard was hit by debris in the right shoulder and arm and is being treated by the third man onboard."

"It seems like they've had an exciting patrol." The Captain observed. "I knew Kuat should have put shield generators on those things before he moved them closer to the enemy. Those new-fangled contraptions have the maneuvering abilities of the Death Star. Commander Volt you have the bridge. I'm going down to the hanger to greet those men when they arrive." The two men saluted and the Captain was gone.

"Report the situation to the Quill." He told the HypRad station. "Let them know we are taking the stricken TIE/WAC onboard. Recommend they send out the next recon craft in the rotation as soon as possible."

"Yes, Sir." The radio man went about his orders as Eritech moved to the bridge's viewport. He watched a small straight line shaped fighter craft approach his vessel. Its vector, he figured, was aimed straight at the hangers located beneath his hull. As he watched the TIE/WAC come closer, he was fascinated as its dual wings slowly folded and collapsed in on themselves as the massive radars and sensor arrays returned to their landing position. The craft was almost back to its familiar 'H' shape of normal TIE fighters when it disappeared underneath the white hull of the Insertion.

These earthlings were getting more daring. First they had engaged Imperial Probe Droids, but now they were shooting at manned recon flights also, and they had chased that craft from their airspace as well. No doubt their next move would be even bolder. They really need a lesson on how the Empire worked and soon, Eritech reflected.

"Commander, we are receiving a laser-guided transmission that is aimed right at the Insertion." Signal Interception cut across the bridge's speakers. "We're patching it to the bridge communication station."

"Is it from the Quill?" Eritech asked his radiomen, whlie wondering why the flagship of the fleet wouldn't be using hyperwave burst transmissions.

"It's not coming from the fleet, Commander. SigInt is stating its origin as being the third planet, somewhere in the northern portion of the lesser continental mass, Sir."

"The Earthlings are trying to communicate with us? Are they even capable?" Eritech asked curiously.

"It appears so, Sir." The radioman responded.

"Patch it through to the bridge speakers, and my personal comlink." He pulled the device from its place on his belt.

"Unknown Alien Vessel this is North American Space Command do not come any closer to Earth. I repeat if you come any closer than the orbit of our moon we will take defensive action against you." The accent of the woman addressing him was strange. It almost sounded Corellian, Eritech thought, but then again everyone's voice sounded strange when it was being transmitted.

"North American Space Command this is the Imperial Navy Star Destroyer Insertion. We do not recognize your authority to issue orders to us. We demand that you do not fire on any more of our unarmed starships or we will respond in kind." There was a small pause on the other line.

"Did you say Star Destroyer?" The female on the other side of the conversation sounded surprised.

"I am not authorized to give you any information regarding this vessel." Eritech felt a bit of pride as one of the first Earthlings felt the force of the Tarkin Doctrine just by hearing the name of a ship class. "Furthermore, the Fleet Admiral of this fleet does not recognize your arbitrary boundary of your moon. The Fleet Admiral requests retribution for our damaged craft and wounded man." Eritech wondered if he had revealed too much and if he was overstepping his authority. He motioned at the deck officer and whispered, "Get the Captain back up here right now. Tell him it's an emergency." The man rushed out of the bridge as fast as he could.

"Inform your Fleet Admiral that we were not the ones who fired on your craft. That was forces under the command of the Russian Federation. We will however fire on the next ship that violates our airspace." Eritech couldn't tell if the woman was telling the truth or just trying to shift the blames to these Russians she mentioned.

"Once again, we do not recognize your authority to issue any threats or decrees towards an Imperial vessel. We will only follow orders issued from our own fleet command and Emperor Palpatine." There was another long pause from the Earth transmission. When they rebroadcast they were starting to cut in and out, and Eritech noted the technicians trying to boost their signal interception power in the crew pit below. Whatever these Earthlings were using as a transmitter was pretty weak he determined.

A male voice came over the North American transmission. "Insertion are you in command of the alien fleet around the fourth planet in this system?"

"Who am I speaking to now?" Eritech delayed for time.

"This is Major General Styers from NORAD speaking for Space Command, who am I addressing?"

"This is Bridge Commander Volt of the Imperial Navy speaking on behalf of the Tarkin' Fist Fleet of the Maw Defense Forces." At that moment Halser arrived on the bridge again. Eritech reluctantly offered him his comlink, but the Captain just waved him to continue. The rest of the bridge crew remained silent as they listened to the conversation. "General Styers we are one of many powerful warships that are quite capable of striking your planet. I believe you should talk to our Fleet Admiral about your 'requests'. Until then we will not stand by your demands." Eritech knew the Insertion didn't have the orders to close with the increasingly hostile planet anyways, but he wasn't about to inform them of that.

"Insertion, we are requesting a communication with your Fleet Admiral or a representative of your government as soon as is convenient." Earth asked.

"NORAD or Space Command, whoever you are, we will pass on your request. We offer a cease fire until you hear our response on this channel."

"Thank you Insertion, it would help if you could also desist with your signal jamming efforts while we are in negotiations." Eritech was surprised by how uncouth these Earthlings were to be making so many requests, but this last one was an easy one to answer.

"Space Command, as far as I know, we haven't been jamming you, since we entered this system."
Air Force One, 32,000 feet above Santa Fe, New Mexico, NAU

"What do we know so far, Frank?" The President tiredly addressed his National Security Advisor. The day had started early, with the evacuation of the first family to a secured location, and now the President's personal airliner was making its way west across the Rocky Mountains well past midnight.

"Well, we know they call themselves the Imperial Navy, which tells us a lot actually. Our experts are saying this means they must be part of a government led by a single individual, or at the least a constitutional monarchy. They mentioned an Emperor Palpatine in their conversation with NORAD."

"We need to get this Emperor Palpatine on the horn then. Try to get him into negotiations about the removal of his space navy fleet. You know I was in the US Navy way back during the War on Terrorism and the Second and Third Iraq Wars. Is there any sign that their Imperial Navy functions the same way as the NAU Navy." The Chief Executive asked.

"I was in a talk with the Joint Chiefs just an hour ago. The man NORAD talked to mentioned his rank as Bridge Commander, and he was answerable to a Fleet Admiral. He also stated he was aboard what he called a 'warship', which was troubling enough on several different levels."

"Any ideas on this Insertion's capabilities?"

"That Volt alien we talked with, told us that his ship was able to strike the planet, but he wasn't too specific on the method it would use to do so. Space Command has gotten a good look at the warship when it came closer from several ground-based telescopes. Eagle Base on the moon also got some good images of it, when it passed by them. It was one of those triangle diamond shaped mother-ships that we've picked up from here all the way out to Jupiter."

"For God's sake, they called it a star destroyer," The Director of the National Security Agency interupted from another seat around the planes conference table, "That should tell you their capabilities right there."

"I want a complete count of those as soon as possible also." The president ordered.

"Yes Sir. While they were studying the Insertion they noticed the placement of at least eight gun turrets along the top side of its hull. If they fire the same sort of laser ballistics that those scouting robots did, we could be in for a world of hurt. Their suggestion of a flagship could indicate an even larger vessel somewhere in their fleet. Probably the one commanded by their Fleet Admiral."

"Where are we, on those robots by the way?"

"We've got teams from MIT, to DARPA, to the Jet Propulsion Laboratory studying the remains. Initial reports are, they haven't been able to retrieve anything from the recovered circuitry from either of the two we recovered. NSA and CIA sources are saying our allies and the Union of South American Nations aren't having any luck with the ones they've captured as well. We are getting some interesting readings from the analysis of their armor. It seems that they were made of some sort of new kind of advanced steel. Metallurgists are saying we might be able to replicate it soon."

"How soon?"

"Five years or a decade, maybe more, who knows how long to get it deployed and in use." Both men shrugged at that, but at least it showed some sign of promise. "We do know some of their weaknesses now. Apparently they had no idea who fired on their spy craft, which shows they haven't got a lot of knowledge on any of us as of yet, but they're trying. That big 'H' fighter of theirs was supposedly claimed to be unarmed, and that Russian anti-satellite missile was either able to damage it or chase it off. Either way it's a good sign. A great sign is they stated their crewmen had been wounded. If they can be wounded, then they can be killed. A bad sign is they openly admit they haven't been jamming us, which leads credence to some claims that their communications gear is so far in advance of our own that it washes out our Earth technology with static. It was a hell of a time for our ground-based tracking stations to even get a lock on that single spacecraft."

"That would also explain some of the after action reports our men fighting those robots last month filed. Now, what do you think of this meeting with their Fleet Admiral that they suggested?" The President was starting to feel the effects of the late hour.

"Personally, I think they're buying time. They seem to be building major industrial facilities on Mars and near Jupiter, and we've spotted several smaller ships running from those posts to their fleet. Secondly, when in all of history has a meeting with an advanced civilization with a primitive one gone well?"

"Are you saying we're the Indians and they're Columbus this time?"

"Exactly right, Mr. President, I suggest we put past slights behind us and extend the olive branch to several governments in this endeavor. The Russians are already eager to join us in bi-lateral negotiations. It seems they might be a little jumpy, since they're the only ones who've taken a shot at the aliens. The Chinese have already sent inquiries to the State Department about joining in on talks as well."

"That's good. We may need every single ChiCom soldier if these bastards land on Earth. Ok, I can stomach those back stabbing Europeans joining in as well, but you can tell El Presidente down south that his Foreign Minister can come, but we still consider him personae non grata on North American soil. Get the United Nations involved in this as well. The more the merrier I always say."

"That's good Sir, because I have a feeling we may need all the help we can get on this one." His advisor understated.
-------------------------------------------------------
Flag Bridge, Imperial II-class Quill, Polar Orbit, Earth's Moon

"We're about ready, Fleet Admiral." Captain Yutu informed him. The two imperial officers stood in their finest grey uniforms along with Captain Dual near the HoloVid Cams. His daughter Phasma stood nearby dressed in all white gown, and had her hair shaped in a dual-bun style that was popular amongst the female senators back on Imperial Center when they had left their own galaxy. Yos thought she reminded him of her late mother's beauty.

She was attending this conference with the Earth's leaders, as was her role as head of DiploServe and his chief ambassador. So far her appointment was a raging success with the Moffs, but he had no idea how the governments of Earth would react to her. He didn't think they would get more than a glimpse of her anyways, as both Dual and Yutu had insisted that the earthmen only talk with Yos via a 2D projector that the Earthmen seemed to prefer. Yutu was adamant that the alien humans had already learned too much from their conversation two and a half standard weeks ago with the Insertion about the fleet and the Empire.

The presence of the Empire was foremost on his mind these days. Everywhere he went aboard his starships he heard murmurs of the lack of Empire out here amongst the officer's and crew of Tarkin's Fist. He'd even heard that name was falling quickly out of favor, and he had conversed privately concerns to his old friend Captain Nake of the Quill about the fleet's abilities to ever respond to a call from the Grand Moff. Tarkin had given him the mission and the basic outlines for what he had wanted to be carried out within the maw, but the situation here had been vastly different than the one the Fleet Admiral had prepared himself for. They hadn't planned for terraforming an entire planet, or mining ore and tibanna, and they certainly hadn't planned for the presence of a potentially stronger civilization once they got there.

The subject had come around to the question of not having the Emperor or Tarkin to answer to, then who would lead them and how. Nake had some suggestions from everything to placing Yos as a new Emperor of this one system, to forming a New Republic with the Moffs. Yos would have preferred to have kept everything a military hierarchy, but he had a huge population of civilians to look after, as well. Some of them had even started up their own private enterprises such as freight transport, and Moff Culter had even mentioned some freed slaves starting a glass-blowing factory and a civilian duracrete plant under the Martian surface, as well as several construction companies being created by the new civilians. If the society he was creating could establish a thriving economy once more, then he would have to establish a strong government for it one day as well.

The only reason Yos had postponed the meeting till almost three weeks after the Earth first made contact with the Insertion, was the attack on the TIE/WAC that had preceded it. The injured crewman and the stricken craft had been repaired and returned to service, but the threat had been raised. The command of Tarkin's Fist had diverted all tibanna deliveries from Earth 5 to the flagship, until the Quill was the most battle-worthy warship in the fleet. Yos had then ordered the rest of his star destroyers to protect the exposed fleet around Mars while he took the single large star destroyer into orbit around the Earth in order for the enemy's primitive communications to work more efficiently. He had also ordered a commo blackout, while the meeting took place, so that the Earth's own electronic signals weren't being washed out by his own ships.

That had been a humorous piece of intelligence when they found out that the Earthlings had believed they were the victims of a concentrated electronic warfare assault. Yos had instead been trying to protect his vulnerable and crippled fleet from as much notice as possible, but their subspace and hyperwave radios along with attempts to reestablish contact with the HoloNet and hyperspace transmitters had overpowered the communication technology the primitive Earthlings used. The Insertion's Bridge Commander had promised to do what he could to lessen the effect on the newly discovered species, but there was only so much the Fleet Admiral could do, while still maintaining the effectiveness of his fleet.
For now the Quill was on its own. Two lancer class frigates and an entire wing of TIE fighters stood at the ready on the far side of the Earth's moon for the slightest hint of an attack, while the Quill's own contingent of starfighters stood on alert in the ready racks down in the TIE launch bays of the flagship. The Earth maintained one of their small Orion II shuttles on the surface of their moon, while another of the flimsy craft sat on the launchpad of some sort of rocket complex on the northern portion of the lesser continental mass. Quill's sensors also picked up targeting computers attracted to the large warship once it entered a high orbit over the planet.

The Earth itself was beautiful, Yos thought. He stared at the blue-green gem of a world below and compared it to the ugly blue-gray he had stared at over Subterrel for the better part of the last decade. This was a planet of life, not of ore he told himself. In a way it looked much like the planets Aargau or Dor near Endor that he had seen during his early years in the Republic's Fleet. After years of serving the Imperial Fleet however, it was a chore not to see any new world for its potential to serve the Empire. And serve it well, this one would, he reminded himself. His new society and culture that he was building on Mars was far too young to withstand the pressure from an established rival in the same system as his. One way or another, one of them needed to be on top.

"Sir, we have picked up the designated signal from below." Yutu informed him. The Intelligence Director handed him a small comlink to stick in his ear, so that Dual and him could keep the Fleet Admiral from letting slip too many of the Fleet's weaknesses. "SigInt is trying to isolate it from the rest of the Quill's communications."

"Commo blackout is going into effect right now, Admiral." Dual reported from a nearby station module where a radio crewman was diligently trying to maintain contact with the Earth's weaker signal. The technician turned his head to Yos and signaled that they were ready.

The monitor at the front of the room went from black to a room full of men and woman in strange outfits. The men appeared to have some sort of cloth garment wrapped around their necks and wore what appeared to be matching government uniforms of some type, though they varied in colors only slightly. The women looked to be wearing female versions of the same outfits, but the few skirts seemed more fitting for a night at the Outlander Club, rather than government service. He wondered how his own appearance looked to them. He snapped to attention and offered the gathered crowd an Imperial salute, and was concerned when several members of his audience gave a visible cringe or gasp.
"I bring you greetings from the Galactic Empire. I am Fleet Admiral Aveo Yos of the Tarkin's Fist Maw Defense Force Fleet and Commander of the Subterrel Sector Imperial Military Forces. Who have I the honor of addressing today?" He asked the gathered crowd of Earthlings. In his ear Yutu informed him that the Earthmen were bouncing the signal from several different sites around their globe, so as not to let Yos know their actual location. Yos gave a slight smile at the enemy's small show of fear.

A tall woman who looked as if she might hail from the planet Socorro in the Outer Rim was the first to speak. "I am the Secretary-General of the United Nations Nane de Groot, and I am with several of the representatives from the governments of Earth." She introduced the men and women in the room. Yos was pleased that the actual heads of several governments were there, including the North American Union, Russian Federation, and the European Union, but the governments of the Union of South American Nations and of China had only sent their foreign ministers. He was also disappointed that the Chinese representative evidently chose not to don his Mandolorian armor for this meeting. The Secretary-General introduced several governments of nations that Yutu's research had found to be unsubstantial for the fleet's notice. Phasma informed him only to address the five major government's leaders and to ignore the rest as they were beneath their notice. He couldn't agree more.

"In the name of the Emperor," Yos cut off her tedious introductions. Yutu frowned; no doubt he was gathering intel on everyone present. "We have a list of suplications for you to submit to." The gathered diplomats stirred at the prospect of bleak demands. One or two of them started to speak, but he cut them off before they could get in a proper interuption.
"The first of which, is you are no longer to make any type of approach to the fourth planet in this system without express permission of our fleet. Secondly, you have two of your seven day weeks to evacuate the small colony you have erected on your moon. Third, any transmissions we detect that seem to be aimed at your allies in other systems in this sector of this galaxy will be determined by Tarkin's Fist as an act of war." That was a risky gamble, as his own science and intelligence teams hadn't detected the presence of any other civilizations nearby, but if there were, he didn't want them coming to Earth's rescue either.

"Finally, we demand you surrender all nuclear and super weapons you currently stockpile as well as your population of Mandolorians, within a three month time frame." He knew they would never do it. A lot of planets bent to the imperial will, but very few left themselves completely vulnerable. The time frame gave him more time to build his army's strength.
"You dare too much, Fleet Admiral." The man that had been introduced as the President of the Russian Federation proclaimed. "Russia and her allies," the man gestured to the other diplomats, "will never leave themselves open to such an obvious ploy to disarm. We damaged your space spy ship, and we know you can be hurt." Several of the other politicians seemed to agree.

"What are your conditions if we do not comply?" The Chinese ambassador asked.

"Defensive actions for the first three requests, and an open state of war for the fourth." Yos responded. He knew he couldn't yet back up the threat of war, but his advisors on his comlink seemed pretty sure that the Earthlings wouldn't push it.

"India will never give up her nuclear arsenal while Pakistan and Iran still maintain theirs." One man shouted.

"Israel feels the same way." A woman argued, and Yos watched as the Secretary-General quickly lost control of the group.

So Fleet Intelligence had been correct, the Earth really did have an impotent central governing body he thought. Yos decided from now on he would only enter into talks with the lead governments of the planet, and destroy or ignore the rest. He looked at Phasma and could tell she was thinking the same thing.

"What is a 'Mandolorian'?" The President of the North American Union asked.

"They are a warrior culture of highly trained soldiers and bounty hunters that we have detected in the eastern portion of the larger continental mass of your planet, as well as on your satellite moon." There was a confusing silence from the Earthlings for a moment. He tried to read their faces on the viewscreen, and realized they had no idea what he was talking about. "We believe they go by the name Mandarins." He added.

The Chinese Foreign Minister spoke first. "Do you mean the Chinese people? Half of the country speaks the mandarin language, about a little under a billion people." Yos looked to his intelligence chief. Yutu just shrugged his shoulders and indicated that was who they were speaking of.

"Yes, we demand their surrender." Yos stated flatly.

"Never! China will gladly go to war with you. If we are the Mandalorians you fear, then come and get us. Our nuclear arsenal as well." The man turned and stomped out of the room followed by several other Chinese diplomats.

"They speak for the North American Union, as well Fleet Admiral. We reiterate that you are not to come any closer to our planet than our moon or you will be fired upon. We also demand that you return the seven astronauts you took captive on Mars as well. We will give you a period of one year to evacuate your bases on Mars, Jupiter, and the one we have detected in the asteroid belt, or we will be in a state of open hostilities." The American President warned.

"The European Union agrees with the views of the People's Republic of China and the NAU. We will not submit to your demands."

"The Russian Federation is in agreement."

"So is the Union of South American Nations."

"The African Union stands by its allies."

"The people of the Oceania..."

Yos cut them all off again, "Diplomats of Earth's governments, we do not want a war that will bring devastation to your planet, but our conditions must be met. I am willing to send my chief ambassador to your governments while you at least abandon your moon colony. The deadline can be at least extended to the term of one of your planet's years." Yos suggested. He knew he was just delaying the inevitable. There was some murmuring amongst the diplomats. Russia, the EU, and the South American Union seemed to be alright with the suggestion, but they were also nations without any of their own on the moon.

"Never, the citizen's of the NAU's place is in the stars. Any move against our moon is a declaration of war." The President scowled at the Fleet Admiral.

"So be it." Yos nodded to Dual.

The eight main batteries of the Quill's main turbolasers turned in their turrets until they were aimed at the predetermined target. An officer in the firing control center below the command bridge noted they were all on target before he punched the command to fire into the computer core. All eight batteries came to life as superheated tibanna gas mixed with plasma energy to race across the space that separated the huge star destroyer and its target.


The Orion II-class Space Shuttle Challenger II sat on its launch pad at Cape Canaveral Florida waiting for a break in the small rain storm that was passing through the area. Its six astronauts had watched as their payload had been filled to the brink with military weapons that would aide in the defense of Eagle Base on the moon. They never realized they were dead as the eight heavy turbolaser beams caught the shuttle and ruptured her fuel tanks. The flash of light from the explosion was seen as far south as the Florida Keys and as far north as Charleston. Fishermen five hundred miles out to sea said later that it was like another momentary sun on the horizon.

Dual spoke in his ear that the attack was complete. Yos realized that the man on his viewscreen had no notion that his country had just been attacked. Two men who had the appearance of bodyguards at the back of the room put their hands to their ears as if they were receiving secret communications. Well, the President would know soon enough he figured.
Phasma's voice cut into his train of thought. "If all you have to offer is violence. Then they will be forced to offer violence in return." Her words of wisdom soothed him for a second before he continued with the diplomats.
"My terms are on the table. We will leave this channel open when you need to contact us. We are more than willing to work with you." Yos smiled just as the transmission was cut.

"Your orders, Sir?" Dual asked.

"I want you to start a harassment campaign aimed at pushing them back onto their own planet. We don't have the tibanna for a sustained campaign, yet. Keeping them contained to one planet should be enough for now. We know the operational range of their nuclear weapons, so I want you to keep the ships of the fleet out of their range. Yutu, I want the location of all of their weapon depots and silos for those weapons."
He turned to the crew standing about the Flag Bridge, "Gentleman, the Empire is going to war with the Earth."
---------------------------------------------
Three Kilometers above Oceanus Procellarum, Earth's Moon


"All right Mynock keep alert. I don't want any surprises on this one." Captain Roblin warned the rest of the fast moving squadron, as they provided fighter cover for Bantha Squadron below. The other attack flight was racing over the surface of the cold cratered moon in their TIE/sa bombers on their way to the Earth's so-called Eagle Base.
"Roger that, 1-1." Lieutenant August, his panelman, responded on his wing. Ahead of them lay the brightly lit Earth colony that sat beside a long road the Earthlings had built. On one end of it sat their target. The base suddenly cut the power to their lights, but Roblin could still pick out the features of the colony with the help of the night-viewer lenses in his helmet's HUD.

"Bantha and Mynock flights this is TIE/WAC Cresh we are showing multiple radar tracked weapon systems tracking your position." Roblin was still getting used to working with the all-seeing TIE/WAC craft, but his boss, Commander Vertitas, had already informed all of his pilots to obey orders from the spy craft as if they came from Palpatine himself.
"TIE/WAC can you jam them?" Roblin asked the electronic support starfighter that was flying several thousand kilometers away, towards the Earth. Several flashes came from the ground ahead and the TIE pilot watched as plumes of white smoke leapt from hidden launchers scattered about the base.

"We're on it Mynock. Watch out attack squadrons we're picking up several weapon launches in your area." The distant
technician informed him.

"A little late TIE/WAC. Evasive action Mynock. Keep with your panelman." Roblin watched his HUD as the symbols of his own flight broke in every direction. He yanked his own control stick hard to the left to avoid the incoming missiles. Several of them jetted through his scattered formation, but none of them came close to his fighters. A few more of them never even came within a kilometer of the two squadrons. The distant TIE/WAC must have been doing something right.
"Hey, Blood Stripe," August used his new call sign, "You get an ID on any of those projectiles?" Roblin checked his flight computer for a split second and received an unknown symbol over the radar locations of each of the surviving missiles which were trying to reaquire his flight of TIEs several kilometers to his rear.

"The FlightCom is showing a big Dactillion egg." Roblin answered.

"Bantha is on approach." The Bantha squadron leader reported.

Roblin pulled up his craft for altitude while the TIE/sa bombers dove on the target. A strange looking shuttle sitting on the end of the odd road bore the brunt of the twelve bomber payloads within the space of ten seconds. Whatever the shuttle was using for fuel added to the horrific explosion as proton gravity bombs ripped the craft apart.

"Striker, you detecting any damage on the proximal buildings of the colony?" Roblin asked his wingmate.

"Negative, Blood Stripe. I think Bantha hit the target right on the nose. You can tell them were judging the target to be at zero percent operability." August responded as a giant blue fireball rose over the stricken remains of the shuttle before rapidly burning off in the low-g vacuum.

"I think they may already know." Roblin kept his Mynock boys over the colony for several seconds to insure that Bantha wasn't fired on as they made their retreat from their bombing run. Roblin searched several times for the humans on the surface who fired the launchers, but his hunt came up empty. The Earth humans can be sneaky he told himself with genuine surprise, not deadly yet, but sneaky.

"Bantha is clear. Returning to the Quill." The lead bomber radioed him. "Thanks for the cover Mynock."

"Anytime Bantha."

"Mynock flight, requesting your presence at our location." The TIE/WAC contacted him. Roblin hadn't even ordered his flight to do so, but they were already forming up on his tail. His training was serving them well he thought with pride.

"On our way Cresh." Roblin shoved his stick forward and left the grey moon quickly shrinking in their six.

A few minutes later he saw the giant odd looking TIE craft in the distance. The wings on the silly looking fighter just appeared unnatural to the seasoned TIE pilot. Roblin however was starting to hear they were worth their weight in gold. Just one of the craft near the enemy planet was able to pick up almost every transmission sent on the world's surface, and the electronic warfare that had recently been added to the spy ship allowed it to jam most of the Earth's prehistoric radio traffic as well. After the attack on TIE/WAC Aurek it was no wonder each of the craft was now sporting the latest advancements in shield generators as well. As if to emphasize their growing importance Roblin recognized Gundark Flight from the star destroyer Babel providing the TIE/WAC with a fighter cap. He hoped they weren't about to be ordered to be their relief as nothing was worse after a successful mission than boring old guard duty.

"QI2-1-1 this is Quill Flight Control over." Lieutenant Commander Vertitas's voice cut across the flight channel.

"QFC this is QI2-1-1 over." Roblin responded.

"1-1 you have several TIE squadrons from across the fleet vectoring on your position. TIE/WAC Cresh is going to be uploading new targets into your flight computer. You're to lead the new attack in seven minutes. Over."

"Any word on what these new targets are QFC? Over." Roblin asked.

"There not armed from what we can tell, and this isn't an atmospheric attack." Vertitas was explaining as new information was downloaded from Cresh. Roblin studied the multiple new targets and figured them to be some weird looking primitive satellites of Earth origin. Data showed they were everything from communications, weather, global positioning, spy, deep space probes, and even defense satellites. "How copy the new targeting data QI2-1-1? Over."

"Yes QFC that's a positive on the new targets. This is really going to put the hurt on them isn't it? Over."

"It's time to leave them deaf, blind, and dumb, 1-1. Good hunting Blood Stripe. Quill Flight Control out." Did he really use my call sign? The young captain knew the practice was catching on throughout the fleet, but he couldn't imagine his old stuck-in-the-mud commander ever using it. Things change, he figured.

Roblin spent the next few minutes catching up with the boys in Mynock flight. Most of them were still pumped full of adrenaline from their successful attack on the moon colony, and Roblin used the next moments to get them to calm down and focus on the next mission. Most of the new targets were in high orbit around the Earth, but several of them were low enough to be within range of hundreds of suspected enemy missiles. A pilot who lost his focus during what appeared to be a blue milk run often enough bought the moisture farm anyways.

Womp Rat Squadron from the Kuat's Legacy were the first TIE squadron to report in, followed by the quick arrival of eight more squadrons from around Tarkin's Fist. The flight leader of Orray Squadron apologized for being the last people to the party, but Roblin couldn't blame him as Orray hailed from the Battle of Phu, which was on station somewhere on the other side of Mars.

"All flights this is QI2-1-1 at the head of Mynock. Gamma Hive Assault formation. Mynock had the lead. I want the rest of you guys stacked at intervals of ten kilometers above us." He knew dozens of flight controllers as well as the nearby TIE/WAC were listening in, and he wanted this to go by the book. "All flights check in over."

"Orray standing by."

"Sounds good to Ronto. I mean standing by."

"Acklay flight copies."

"Womp Rat roger roger."

"Sarlacc standing by."

"Wookie standing by."

"Akul copies that Mynock."

"Varactyl copy."

"Krayt standing by."

"All squadrons follow my lead." Roblin ordered as he pulled the TIE into a long banking turn. He watched on his flight computer as each squadron took up its assigned position. The TIE/WAC feed them flight data and corrected their approach vectors on their assigned targets. It was amazing how much operational control the sensor crafts could maintain. Within a few moments every other TIE was soon out of his possible eyesight as the fighters spread out. The only craft he could detect was August's on his wing.

The foreign planet grew huge as his attack bored in, and he noted his first target approaching quickly. It was a high orbit reconnaissance satellite from the Union of South American Nations according to his flight computer. Without even engaging his targeting computer he gently squeezed the trigger on his throttle and watched as a line of green blaster bolts flew from his chin-cannons to connect with the small target. The thing didn't explode, but it did seem to break into several pieces. The largest of which went spinning off into space while its solar array wings snapped off.

"Good shot, Blood Stripe." His panelman congratulated him.

"Another target at twenty degrees. That one's all yours, Striker." He watched as his friend blasted another enemy machine from the sky. This was a target rich environment if he ever saw one. The two of them blasted four more probes from the atmosphere before they reached their target altitude. His flight computer showed thousands of Earth fighters scrambling for his height and firing their missiles in vain as the TIE/In fighters of Mynock shot by. It helped that every time he was painted by one of the enemies targeting systems the TIE/WAC would automatically jam the weapon into helplessness. Whenever he looked to the land or the huge oceans that raced below him he saw the tiny white contrails of thousands of misfired armaments striking across the atmosphere.

"Someone in Akul just nailed three targets in one burst." Striker reported.

"Impressive." Roblin saw something strange on his targeting computer. "Striker, umm, are you getting the same information on the satellite over the northern polar ice cap."

"If your speaking of the 'do not destroy' order, by order of Fleet Intelligence tag, then I sure am. That's probably the bird they're using to splice into the Earth's little Holonet." August suggested.

"That makes sense I guess. Make sure none of our boys go near it will you?"

"Roger that."

It was a half hour later before TIE/WAC Cresh was sending an endex and recall directive to all fighters in the attack. The Earth had suffered an estimated ninety nine percent of her satellite coverage in a humiliating short period of time. The pubs of the star destroyers would be filled with victorious pilots tonight Roblin thought.
"Mynock on me." Roblin ordered over the squadron channel. He thought of the earth sports that were becoming popular on the viewscreens of the pubs. "Good job Mynock, nobody lost a man in the attack. Let's go home. I want to see if there's still anything good on TV."

Undisclosed Location, Sierra Madre Mountains, NAU, Earth

"Are any of you getting anything yet?" The Chairman asked the rest of the Joint Chiefs.

"My cell is completely jammed. Space Command is reporting two of those big 'H' spy planes in orbit around the moon now.

No one can tell if either of them is the one the Russians chased off." The Air Force Chief angrily reported. "Last night's attack effected everything from television, internet, phones , radio, and especially navigation for military forces and civilians. It's all gone or degraded to almost nothing."

"The President has ordered the laying of thousands of miles of new fiber-optic cable and more powerful radio towers. OSHA and the EPA can be damned if those new towers give people cancer just by getting in fifty foot range of them, but I feel like the NAU was being knocked back to the days of Vietnam all over again." The Army Chief added.

The Chairman knew that not a single one of the men in the room had even been born when the war in Southeast Asia had involved the Americans. "GPS is completely gone, as is weather and spy satellites. You should see some of the traffic reports we're getting all over the NAU. Every idiot suddenly has to find his own way to work without his car knowing the way. Don't get me started on how pissed off the people are going to get if we don't return their TVs to them right quick as well. The secret is out of the bag now. The civies know we're not the only ones in the neighborhood, and they're screaming for news."

"One communication satellite over the northern pole was missed in the attack somehow." The Navy's top admiral reported. "One of ours."

"So were two Defense birds, one ours and one ChiCom, but they're both being heavily jammed." The Air Force Chief stated."We think they may be compromised as they were in the direct line of fire of several of the smaller 'H' fighters and were never attacked.

"Hand that over to the NSA, see if we can get some good counter-intelligence out of them." He ordered.

"Sir, what about this morning's Senate resolution to have POTUS fully activate the National Guard." The Navy's Chief asked.

"The Air Guard has already been activated. It is a done deal with the Chief Executive. You saw the tape with him and that Fleet Admiral of theirs. I think the President is making this quite personal and I don't blame him. We'll place the Guard units around continental bases, and start pulling regular army and naval units back from bases in the Middle East and the Caribbean. Though we certainly don't want to slack on observing the Southerners any, do we." There was a strong ripple of agreement with that statement. Every man in the room's predecessor had lost their job with the previous administration when they had underestimated the resolve of their Southern neighbors.

"Gentlemen, I want us on a war footing again. I don't see anyone backing down from this any time soon, certainly not the NAU again. By this time tomorrow I want at least ninety percent of our communications with our troops restored, and a new theory about how we're going to lead those men without the aid of GPS and SatComm to guide them. I want our nuclear arm on DEFCON 2 status, get every sub boomer to sea, and notify the rest of the Earth governments that we are doing so. This is going to be the largest build-up to war since the old USA went into World War II, do you hear me?" His voice had risen during his speech, but the men around them nodded their heads in eager anticipation. "Don't worry about Congress. Those that aren't already in the President's pocket are all over the evening news screaming about being the victims of the 'sudden' alien appearance and surprise attack and how we need to stand against them. They'll do their part when the country needs them to."

"Gentlemen, the North American Union is now at war with the Galactic Empire." The room erupted in applause.

Phasma Belt Mining Facility, Unknown Space

It had taken his tiny herd a little over a week to save enough credits to buy their new Togruta friend an enviro-suit of her own. Up until then, she had stayed aboard her freighter, the Agen's Light, all by herself every night while he and his fellow miners returned to the mining barracks and their paychecks.

Everyday they worked in the ore fields of the asteroid, slowly shrinking the mass of the giant rock until the facility would be forced to move on to another. The Togruta girl had fit right into their small band. Brakatak didn't want to say anything to offend his new friend, but he was starting to think that she may have come across the craft by some ill-gotten measure.
While Rana, the Duros pilot spent most of her time making alterations on the craft with the help of Erw and Raf, Ashla seemed to stand aside and only had rudimentary knowledge of spaceflight and the starship. When he asked her about it, she mentioned that she had won it in a high stakes Sabacc game. Brakatak had heard that was the most common way starships usually changed hands in the galaxy and hadn't questioned her any further.

Brakatak liked the two little Utais as well. They seemed to have no skill when it came to mining and Frip and he usually had to struggle to keep Erw and Raf from hurting themselves too badly on the dig sites, but when they were aboard the parked freighter Rana and Ashla claimed they were better than a pair of astromech droids. The other amazing thing was the two Firrerreo girls Ashlei and Keatly seemed to be the most amazing scroungers he had ever come across in all his years of living in slave camps. Not only could they manage to steal better rations for the herd, but they were also capable of coming across any part or supply Rana asked them to get for the Agen's Light. Brakatak and Frip had almost died of shock when the two girls showed up one day with two backpack tanks of newly spun tibanna from the gas factory near the fifth planet. They also had taken Ashla under their wing, even though the Togruta was a few years older than the both of them. Ashlei had told him privately how eerie it was, that whenever they went to raid the factory's supply dump that Ashla could successfully predict the appearance of guards and security sensors every time.

Ashla was starting to seem more and more like their guardian angel, and Brakatak believed in angels because his uncle had told him as a calf that they existed around the moons of Iego. The thought of living an existence in the Phasma Belt had encouraged feelings of depression and moodiness throughout his small herd. Even the big Gran was begining to feel that they would never get out of the asteroids. Every time he had asked about booking passage to the red Martian planet with one of the local spacers who traded with the facility, the fee was usually astronomically beyond his herd's means. But now with the presence of their new friend who seemed to be bonding with them as much as they were with her, there seemed to be a new hope within his herd. The group still differed to Brakatak for most major decisions, but it was generally felt that the group would someday soon be making a journey on the Agen's Light. In order for that to happen, they kept Ashla living onboard the freighter as to not draw attention to her from the mining compound's administration, while the herd did everything they could to siphon fuel from the imperial and private vessels that docked at the facility's landing pad every night. The Agen's Light was slowly becoming one of the most stockpiled and fueled vessels in the fleet. On Mars he would see what they could do about getting the quick little freighter armed as well. He wasn't sure if the herd was going to turn to smuggling, piracy, or legitimate spacers, but at least for now the vessel gave the herd some tiny feeling that they had a small hope for the future.

At the moment, Ashla for her part was manning a large G2-GE beam drill close by to where Frip was utilizing his large carbonite suction hose to vacuum up the ore Brakatak had blasted away with his gasifier. Ashla picked up the slack from the two Utais who were busy adding duralloy plating to the outer hull of the Agen's Light, which in theory would enable the stock freighter to survive an initial broadside from a star destroyer if need be. Where the Firrerreon teenage girls had found the plating, Brakatak was sure he didn't want to know.

Brakatak looked down from his work for a minute and saw something strange in the soil at his feet. He bent to pick up a strange looking dull green-gray piece of ore. He held it to his face plate for a minute trying to identify the dull ore.

"Impervium." Frip stated, as he glanced at the rock in Brakatak's hand. "Good for warship hulls. Frip not see any of it on any asteroids out here before."

"You think it worth anything, Fishhead?" Brakatak asked.

"Go ask Imperials at compound, Cow-man. Maybe bonus come to us." The Ishi Tib hooted as he took the gasifier from his friend. "Empire like impervium if they say they build new fleet by Mars planet."

"It couldn't hurt. Tell the others I'll be back in a few hours." Brakatak unbuckled his safety line from the stake he had driven into the ground earlier, and engaged his reverse repulsers so he didn't float off the asteroid on his way back to the facility.

"Will do Brakatak friend. We be staying on freighter ship soon enough, won't have to go back to facility any more soon." Frip engaged the gasifier and started blasting the surface of the asteroid, while Keatly came over and took over Frip's position on the hose.

Brakatak waved farewell to the rest of them and started his bounding gape from one point to the next across the flat plain they had been working on. He actually felt more exposed when he entered a series of canyons that led to the mining base. He felt completely alone as he made his way through the cold shadow-filled rock crevices. He had heard that the fleet's sensors hadn't picked up any life signs in the Phasma Belt when they had arrived, but he also heard stories from other miners that they had encounters with a growing Mynock population that had escaped from the fleet when it had been at anchor around the fifth planet. There were always stories of the creatures attacking lone spacers, and Brakatak picked up a large stone to fling at one of the winged critters if it made a sudden appearance. For a peaceful Gran, that had been an unarmed slave for most of his adult life, he found it strange that he would yearn for a blaster in his hand.

He followed the small path around a curve that revealed the brightly lit mining facility. It had changed over the span of the past week. Anti-airspeeder blasters now poked their muzzles above several of the buildings and the guards at the checkpoint gate now donned Stormtrooper armor and carried Blastech E-11s. A mound of sandbags protected a menacing looking E-Web. In the air high above a pair of EF76 Nebulon B escort frigates and a Pursuant Light Cruiser provided protection for the base. Brakatak watched as the Pursuant gave a close inspection of a Ulshos Manufacturing 630-BC medium freighter that had been making an approach to the base. The Gran imagined himself as a spacer being boarded for a cargo inspection by the Empire, and found the idea to be most unappealing.

Brakatak was passed through the gate with no more than a cursory glance. Most of the guard force knew the talkative Gran by sight and didn't have the desire to get into another long conversation with him. Frip had pointed out a few days ago that the guards only seemed interested in inspecting the human and near-human miners returning to the facility anyways. Word of hostile engagements with some kind of human-type-beings on the third world in this system had spread quickly through the mining colony after that.

Brakatak made it to the mining office and explained his purpose for being there to one of the secretaries in the reception area. He removed his helmet and breathed in deeply of the processed air inside the building, as he was led to the office of spectrograph analysis. He was surprised by the presence of the same geologist he had saved the life of several months ago, occupying the room.

"Brakatak!" The man said with a startle. "I heard you had been freed and were still mining somewhere around here. Are you still with the same crew?"

"Oh, yes. I have been able to keep my herd together for the most part."

"Good, send them my regards. If not for their quick thinking I wouldn't be here today, but would have been swatted off that asteroid and into deep space. Not the way I plan on going out, my friend."

"I'll bet not." Brakatak observed with a chuckle.

"So what can I do for you today?"

"I came across this weird looking ore out on the plain in grid section HK-23 this morning, and thought the mining administration would like to take a look at it. One of my crew thought it might have been Impervium." He took the ore from a pouch on his enviro-suit pants and handed it over to the geologist. The man squinted his eyes and peered at the rock.

"I'll be damn; we've been looking for a reliable source of this ore in this system." He flipped the ore over and over as he studied it. "Moff Kuat especially. All we've been able to mine so far is material for durasteel, but we haven't had much luck with the rarer elements we need for high grade armor plating. Let's put this under the spectrograph droid." The geologist led him across the room to a droid that took the sample and began running several green sensor lights over the piece of rock.

"It's really strong stuff I'm guessing." Brakatak presumed.

"Oh yes, during the Clone War most of the Impervium was in Sep hands. General Grievous even made his starfighter out of the stuff, and put tons of it into the plating of his flagship the Invisible Hand. That warship took a hell of a beating before it went down over old Coruscant."

"So pretty good stuff then?"

"Presence of Iron and Nickel confirmed. Sample contains ninety two percent Impervium." The droid reported its finding.

"Grid section HK-23 right?" The geologist asked and Brakatak nodded the affirmative. "I can get you and your crew a bonus for this find if you want?"

"Actually we have a slave with us that was a little late in asking for her freedom. Her name is Shakra Tiber, he used Ashla's alias, and we'd like it if she could gain her freedom. I'd also like permission to take my herd to the fourth planet, especially if they're going to be giving out land grants to workers there soon."

"I'll see to it. She's not too late. I hear the Fleet Admiral is going to grant general amnesty and freedom for all political prisoners and slaves, except for the capital crime offenders. He's got a whole other population in mind for a slave force. He wants us to form some type of mini-Empire out here with all the beings who remember the old one. As for your trip to Mars I can get you a transfer, but you'll have to get there yourself. I hear beings are starting to roam around on the surface without their rebreathers there, since they only recently got the pressure to a normal level, though the air's pretty thin and plenty cold. I'd still keep my enviro-suit handy, if you know what I mean."

"That's great, we…" Brakatak was interrupted by a sudden shaking from beneath their feet. The geologist almost fell over, but Brakatak grabbed his arm and steadied him. "What was that?"

"I don't know, this rock doesn't have a core or continental plates of any sort." They both rushed to the viewport in the office to witness a scene of complete chaos outside of the office building. In the distance between the facility and where Brakatak had been mining that morning, huge vents of steam shot into space from the area of the canyon paths. The ground beneath them started a continuous shaking. "Out gassing!" the geologist exclaimed.

"Now hear this. All personnel make your way to the landing pad for emergency evacuation. This is not a drill." An overhead speaker announced over and over.

"Put your helmet back on, Brakatak." The geologist was already making his way to a closet where is own enviro-suit was located. "This rock is breaking up. Get off anyway you can and we'll come back and get your Impervium once this thing stops cracking up."

"Will you be alright?" The Gran asked.

"Yes. I can beat several of the base's pilots to their own ships before they take off. Get yourself to the main landing pad. I know there's a Mon Cal cruiser there with a good pilot who will wait as long as possible for takeoff." The geologist grabbed the sample of ore and was followed out of the room by the analysis droid.

Brakatak made his way to the street outside where he was met with pandemonium. Miners and facility technicians along with their families ran in every direction, while squads of Stormtroopers tried to manage the panicked crowd of refugees. The whole thing was made more surreal by the fact that there wasn't any atmosphere outside and thus the whole scene was in total silence. Light freighters climbed for space, as other spacers hurriedly loaded their cargos and supplies onboard their starships while civilians and troops ran past for the big Mon Cal starship on the landing pad.

Brakatak knew he had to get back to his herd, and hoped the Imperials had sent transports to round up the mining teams out on the plains, and not just abandoned them to their fates. He fought against the current of panicked refugees fleeing against his direction of travel until he reached the gate. The small squad of troopers there was already long gone, but they had left several Aratech 74-Zs parked alongside of their guard post. The Gran jumped into the seat of one of them and kicked the thing into high gear.

Within seconds he entered the canyons, where he had to either slow down or crash into the high walls, but another outsourcing plume of venting gas collided with his speeder bike and threw him into the bottom of a gulley. Another plume erupted behind him and flung his transport into orbit high above him. The shaking around him increased and suddenly one of the walls of the canyon broke away and slowly drifted away from him.

Brakatak stood on the edge of a giant fissure that bisected the asteroid. He whipped a piton out of a pocket and hammered it into the ground at his feet and tied his safety line to it as fast as he could. The shaking slowly abided as he watched several other large chunks of the asteroid break away into space. He felt a small joy as he witnessed the Mon Cal transport sail to safety heavily laden with survivors.

It was peaceful and quiet on his small outcropping on the edge of space. 'So this is how I die' he told himself. He wanted to pray to his gods, but had never given much faith to the Gran deities in the past. He thought his prayers would sound false if he started them now. He closed his eyes from the thousands of stars in front of him and tried to picture the faces of his people. While he saw the faces of his parents and the townspeople he had grown up with, their images quickly washed from his mind to be replaced with those of his friends. Loyal Frip, Ashlei and Keatly from the Manacle, and Rana, and the two clumsy Utais Erw and Raf, as well as their new orphan Ashla with her amazing starship that he would now never get the chance to pilot.

When he opened his eyes again he didn't know if he was dreaming still or dead. Within meters of his fateful ledge flew the Agen's Light. Rana, Frip, and Ashla waved at him from the cockpit while space suited Erw and Raf gently floated across the gap with the aid of small propellant canisters. Raf attached a rope to the Gran and the three of them were pulled onboard the craft.

Once aboard Brakatak removed his helmet, dropped to his knees and kissed the deck. Ashlei and Keatly ran up and threw their arms around the huge Gran. Ashla stood in front of him as he came to his feet.
The little Togruta grinned at him. "Well, shall we head to Mars then?"
-------------------------------------------
Chryse Planitia, Southwest of Ares Vallis, Martian Surface


SF-4738 took a moment in the low-redlit darkness to get his mind set for the coming battle. He cleared all the thoughts of running the platoon and focused on the day's engagement that lay ahead. The din of the giant war machine he rode in was only muffled by the extra air filters that had been emplaced within his helmet for the thin martian atmosphere. As he looked around the lower deck he saw a few of the platoon had fallen asleep due to the walker's rhythmic ground-shaking advance.
He wanted to yell, but he doubted they would have heard him, so he motioned to a nearby corporal who gave JN-6166 and HF-3105 a good swift kick to rouse them. Morale in the battalion was starting to sag. The troopers were exhausted. This was the third day they had assaulted the same position defended by the troopers of one of Moff Culter's Corps. The first afternoon they had almost achieved victory, but the enemy had clung valiantly to a small fishhook-shaped hill on the left flank of the battlefield, where the timely arrival of an AT-AA platoon on the enemy side had chewed up the ranks of advancing Stormtroopers until night had fallen.

The next day's attack was seen by almost everyone to be a certain victory. Stormtroopers had been sent to flank enemy scout platoons on top of two hills on the right flank of 4738's corps. All day long they had battled up and down the side of those little round topped-hills, just to be repulsed time and again. By late afternoon, in what was seen as the attack that would carry the position, the enemy scouttroopers had fixed vibrobayonets and refused the line in a mad charge that had netted a starship full of casualties for his own legion.

Now with both flanks attacked, General Patreous had ordered the armored corps to assault the low lying ridge in the center of the enemy legion's position. 4738 thought it was a suicidal attack, but the General wasn't in the habit of asking his combat sergeants their opinions. The roar of the blaster cannons could be heard throughout the crew compartment. When he looked over at the lower deck officer the man just shrugged his shoulders and grinned. The edge of real combat hadn't hit the man yet 4738 figured. Let's see if he's still grinning when the enemy puts a pair of proton torpedoes through his hull.

"We're getting you troopers out now!" The AT-AT's commander popped his helmet into the hold from the command compartment. "We're losing way too many walkers packed full of troopers in this attack. General Patreous wants everybody on the dirt now!"

"You heard him! Get up, you sorry scum!" 4738 was sure he was the first trooper on his feet. He felt the walker slow its pace before lowering itself towards the ground in order to disgorge its infantry complement. He unslung his E-11, and made sure it had a charged power cell. "Everyone get tactical!" He yelled at the armored stormtroopers gathering at the rear ramp. More troopers from the upper deck were sliding down the ladders and squeezing in to join their fellow platoon members. The lower deck officer signaled twenty seconds till he released the ramp.

4738 turned to the AT-AT deck commander. "How far do we have to go?"

"We're still about a kilometer and a half from the enemy line, and they've got it pretty built up with defensive works too." 4738 whistled inside his helmet. A kilometer and a half across open ground would be murder on his boys, but that's what they were being ordered to do, and by Palpatine's eyes he would do it. He got his mind set right and decided the first thing he had to do was link up with Lieutenant Mahan and the other half of the platoon that was riding in another imperial walker somewhere to their right.

The lower deck officer flipped a control and the troop ramp slammed to the ground with an enormous clank that sent up a small cloud of red dust into the thin atmosphere. His troopers let out a roar as they charged down the durasteel and fanned out to both sides of the walker. Artillery simulators burst beyond their position, but none of his combat-tested troopers even flinched. He was one of the last stormtroopers down the ramp, as he wanted to make sure every one of his boys was clear. Before his boots touched the Martian soil the lower deck officer was already raising the ramp again.

4738 looked to his right as another AT-AT was going into its unloading stance. When its ramp dropped, two 74-Z speeder bikes shot out and raced ahead towards the enemy. They were followed by the rest of his seperated platoon including his young platoon commander who was assisting the troopers with a bulky E-Web down the ramp. Before he could even blink heavy fortress turbolasers ripped into Mahan's walker, knocking it out of the battle. An artillery simulated burst landed right at the center of their troop ramp destroying Mahan and half of 4738's men.

4738 couldn't focus on the losses for long as he was already falling behind his own walker. His remaining troopers were
staying close to the gigantic machine's feet pads as it led them towards the enemy. The battlefield ahead was covered in knocked out and disabled walkers and downed AT-STs, while everywhere he looked lay the bodies of white clad troopers covering the ground ahead. Several thousand more 'living' troopers of every type pressed home their combined attack as the enemy began pouring in more blaster fire from their flanking positions.

"Watch out for their legs!" he ordered his boys, as he noticed several of them getting much too close to their assigned AT-AT walker. He should have heeded his own warning as a second later he was almost barreled over by a pair of AT-STs charging across the combat zone. "Fierfeking scouts!" he called after them. He made sure to get out of the way of a few dozen AT-ARs and a few AT-PTs that followed in the bigger walker's wake. He made his way to the front of his own platoon as they huddled in back of the walker that had suddenly stopped advancing.

The platoon sergeant looked up at its command head and noticed it wasn't returning fire on the enemy anymore either. He tried to raise them on their comlink, but his HUD just reported that they were no longer able to be reached. "It's knocked out, boys. Looks like it's up to us now!" He waved his blaster in the air and indicated for the surviving stormtroopers to follow him. He hoped with the chaos of the battlefield the enemy wouldn't concentrate for too long on his small platoon, amongst the hundreds on the battlefield.

"You look glorious, Sarge." 3105 laughed behind him.

"Yeah, a real Hero of the Empire." 6166 agreed.

"Shut it you two, or I'll shut it for you." 4738 warned.

When he arrived in front of his stricken walker he was greeted by a sight that was straight out of one those seven hells of Corellian mythology. Thousands of stormtroopers pressed their assault, but wherever armored hovertanks and walkers charged in, they were met with devastating concentrated fire. The enemy seemed to have been lying in wait behind a low wall they had erected, that came together at a small angle in the center. Behind that wall waited an entire legion of troopers armed with E-webs and PLX-2M missile tubes. Along the ridge behind the wall sat an entire line of AT-TEs, AT-HEs, and even some recognizable AT-OTs. 4738's mind started to focus on that angle ahead. He tried to dismiss the fact that it was protected by several All Terrain-Attack Pods, and that the enemy was now starting to let loose with their E-webs into the packed ranks of General Patreous's doomed corps.

"Follow me! You want to live forever!" he ordered, as he took off at a flat run. He knew the troopers of his platoon were in good enough condition that a run to the target would hardly leave them exhausted. They passed several scattered stormtroopers and shattered platoons that had gone in before them. Leaderless stormtroopers who witnessed the passing of his boys were pulled along in the charge until they were almost at company level strength when they reached a row of teeth wire that had been cut through and crushed under by the troopers that had gone before them. His boys poured through the small gaps in the fence and came within a few hundred meters of the enemy's defensive wall. 4738 thought he saw an apparition for a second, as an officer riding an AT-RT charged in front of his men. Every E-web and blaster in the line seemed to focus on the man as he fell from his mount and slammed into the red soil. Another officer leading a group that must have started out as a battalion, but was now well below platoon strength, was all that stood between them and the enemy.

4738 led his platoon into the rear of his charging comrades and gave strength to their eroded assault. The officer leading them stood on top of the wall and 4738 noticed the man wasn't wearing his helmet, but was instead waving it about on the end of a force pike and screaming for the stormtroopers to follow him. 4738 thought the man must be in great physical shape or he would have passed out long ago in the thin Martian air.

4738's concerns aside, the sight of the officer atop the wall inspired the rest of the assaulting troopers for one last surge at the enemy. The platoon sergeant watched as the officer collapsed as his suit shut down from his mock injuries, but his men had made it into the enemy lines. 4738 made it to the top of the wall and glanced back. The entire corps had been wiped out except for this small band that had made it to the bloody angle. He looked at his own HUD and noted that only four other troopers from his original platoon were still listed as living, but at the moment in the fog of battle he had no clue where any of those boys were.

He jumped down and joined in a melee that was more like a shoving wrestling match. For every enemy stormtrooper he shot down another thirty took his place. Finally after what seemed like an eternity of pushing and shoving, someone started screaming for them to lay down their arms and surrender. 4738 stopped his attack and looked around. He couldn't even see the red soil in the angle as it was covered in the white plastoid armor of hundreds of 'slain' troopers. Even the walls were covered in their dangling forms. 4738 looked around and noted that he was amongst six other troopers that had started the attack and he was the highest ranking soldier of the group. He didn't miss the fact that he was facing an impenetrable wall of Blastech E-11s pointed straight into their exhausted faces.

"We surrender." He spit out frustratingly and threw his arms over his head. The other troopers did so as well. He didn't recognize a one of them, but he would fight by any of their sides again if given the chance.

The enemy officer noted their serial numbers before speaking into his own comset. "Endex. I repeat endex. Surviving enemy forces have surrendered." The sight of the battlefield suddenly became one of the rising dead. Every Stormtrooper and vehicle that had been killed in the attack suddenly came to motion as combat computers restored their functioning abilities. Troopers in white armor got up and shook off the Martian dust they had fallen in, while AT-ATs that had stood in place since being knocked out at the beginning of the battle, turned and lumbered off to the rear.

Enemy soldiers suddenly slapped 4738 and the other survivors on their backs in congratulations, and both sides were suddenly swapping different stories of the same melee. "You've got a heck of a right hook, Sergeant. You knocked me right down before you shot me in the belly." An 'enemy' trooper told him as he returned 4738's blaster to him.

"Remember that move, Trooper. It might save your own life someday." 4738 told him. The officer that had taken his surrender had been listening and nodded in agreement.

"You beings are free to go. It looks like you have a bit of a walk to get back to your own side." The officer told him. 4738 noted the man who had led the final charge had replaced his helmet and was leading the Stormtroopers out of the recent enemy's position.

4738 tried to round up as many of his own boys as he could on the way back, and wasn't surprised when his HUD told him he had been the final surviving member of not only his platoon and company, but the entire battalion as well. He hoped the General didn't order attacks like that when his boys hit dirtside on Earth.

He came across Lieutenant Mahan sitting on his backside with forty other stragglers of his platoon in the middle of the combat zone. "Some battle, huh, Sarge? I fought for an entire four seconds before I lost half the platoon." The young officer sounded like he was beating himself up.

"Wasn't anything you could do about that, Loot. You guys were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It could have happened to an old war ronto like me just as easily. Actually, Sir, it did. I lost the other half of the platoon down to the last stormie."

"I saw that on my HUD. You survived though. Good job, Sarge. Did you think it was a strange looking battle?"

"You mean because there wasn't any real blaster-fire involved. I missed the light show a bit, but I have a feeling it's still going to be some while before fleet gets around to issuing us any blaster gas, even the simulated stuff."

"I heard from another officer that they used up a lot during a fighter attack on the enemy planet, and now they're hoarding the little they've gotten so far for turbolasers on the few star destroyers they've sent closer to that Earth planet."

"I think Admiral Yos may have jumped the blaster a bit when he started things up with those abos on Earth, Sir. No offense to another officer."

"You can always talk straight to me, Sarge. It'll help things when we get to Earth." Both men started getting the boys up and headed back to the rear. 4738 could tell the results of the battle wasn't going to help morale much.

He keyed his platoon comlink. "Troopers any battle you can walk away from and you know you've done your duty to the Empire is a victory in my book." He noticed a couple of troopers start to walk taller.

6166 answered. "Yeah, but Sarge you're the only one that got to walk away from this battle. What do you call a battle where your entire platoon is left on the battlefield to rot?"

"Something that's not going to happen when we get to Earth." He promised them as the beaten army went home.
---------------------------------------------------
Captain's Office, Imperial I-class SD Insertion, Near Earth Orbit


"Commander Volt, I am hereby relieving you of your duties. Active immediately." Captain Halser barely looked the ISB spy in the eyes when he gave him the news. The old man sat behind his desk while he kept the Bridge Officer at attention before him. Eritech had wondered when the axe would fall. The old-school officer barely had anything to do with him since the Earth contacted the Insertion two months ago.

"May I ask why, Captain?" Eritech already knew the answer before he asked the question.

"The ongoing investigation by the Bureau of Operations has narrowed in on this starship as a possible source of an ISB Mauler Virus that was spread throughout the fleet along with the slave rig upload. Your arrival aboard this vessel during the week we spent in the Horuz, as well as your insistence on noncooperation with Lieutenant Commander Travles's investigation has raised several suspicions." Captain Halser explained.

"If I'm to be placed under arrest, I demand to be able to speak with a representative from the Naval Judge-Advocate's office." Eritech demanded.

"That won't be necessary Commander. You retain your rank and freedom aboard this starship while we are on this current patrol. In one week, when we are relieved by the Limbo and the Victory class Wasteland from Seco's Squadron; we will then be rotated back to Mars where I will turn you over to the Bureau of Operations agents on the Quill, and convey my suspicions of your activities to their investigators. Until then you may go anywhere aboard this warship except the bridge and the computer core deck. I've also locked you out of every flight computer on board in case you were planning on leaving us." Halser grinned slightly while he imagined he had outsmarted the suspected saboteur.

It was an idea that Major Eritech had briefly considered for a moment. The idea of seeking amnesty with the Earth beings held its benefits. Obviously they would have rewarded him greatly, in whatever they used for wealth. He figured it was probably slave girls or spice for such a primitive world. He could have taught them several new technologies when it came to space travel and weaponry, but it would have seemed too similar to the treason the repugnant Fleet Admiral Yos had done to the Galactic Empire.

Most of the officers and civilians of the fleet may have come on this journey because they disagreed with the policies and the direction that Palpatine was taking the Empire, and so had thrown in their lot with Tarkin, but they still saw themselves as beings of the Empire. The utopian civilization that Yos declared he was building was a small mirror of the sector spanning Galactic Empire. If he betrayed them, then he also betrayed the only glimmer of the Empire for billions of parsecs.

They were the traitors, not him. If they somehow found a way to return home, Palpatine would punish the leaders of Tarkin's Fist, but he would most certainly free those who were fooled by the treasonous scum of this fleet. He would stay and see that great day of justice, that he had assured himself would happen since he had arrived in this backwater system.

"The Emperor will hear of this, Captain." Eritech threatened menacingly.

"There's not much of an Empire out here, Commander. You are dismissed." Halser said off-handedly. Eritech saluted and turned towards the exit before stomping out. His face was flush with the heated blood of his anger.

The Captain's suite emptied straight onto the command bridge of the Insertion, and Eritech took a second to gather his composure before he excused himself. The Deck Officer gave him a strange look, as if he had some idea of what had transpired in Halser's office. Eritech ignored the man, and took what he hoped wasn't his last look around the bridge. Serving undercover as the Insertion's new Bridge Commander had leant a small amount of appreciation for the working class members of the Emperor's New Order. Everyone had their place and no duty was too small when it was done in the name of the Emperor. These menial crewmen that had served with him had shown him that there may have been a place for him if he never returned to the ISB. If he wasn't to be a spy, then he was meant for command, he had assured himself.

"Deck Officer." Captain Halser had exited his office suite right after Eritech and had come up behind him.

"Yes, Captain?" The officer strutted over with what seemed to be immense anticipation. Eritech had always had trouble making friends and the officers of the bridge crew had been no exception.

"Major, please escort Bridge Commander Volt off of the bridge. He is not to be allowed back on it, or on the computer core levels, until further notice." The Deck Officer's face seemed to question the Captain's orders for a fraction of a second before he motioned for Eritech to vacate the bridge. Eritech glanced about quickly and noted with some amusement how many of the crew were trying to listen to the altercation, while also trying to appear engaged with their duties.

Eritech was almost out of the hallway that led to the bridge when a warning klaxon in the crew pit went off. The Deck Officer and he both slowed for a second at the alarm. The other officer reacted first and motioned for Eritech to get into the turbolift that would take him away. Just before the lift's doors shut he heard a crewman yell to the Captain. "Sir we're picking up multiple launches from several different areas on the planet's surface."

The doors slid shut between Eritech and the Deck Officer. The undercover spy wondered where he would go next. The action on the bridge seemed to be heating up just as he was leaving and he would have preferred to stay if there was to be a battle. He thought of going to the navigation deck. But decided against it since it was probably too close to the computer core for the Captain's liking. Instead he directed the turbolift to take him down into the hull. A general quarters alarm sounded as the lift shot down its shaft to his destination.

He stopped the turbolift on the uppermost deck of the star destroyer's hull and exited. He was still several decks above engineering and well above the flight deck if Halser still worried that he might escape his house arrest. Crewmen from every station filled the halls as they rushed to their battle stations with experienced determination to serve their starship. He made his way through the organized rush until he came to a compartment that sat just to the rear of the Insertion's main communication array. He entered the station and witnessed a room full of grey coveralls and black gunnery helmets that covered the heads of all the crewmen present. A few of them turned slightly when he entered, but for the most part kept to their stations.

A massive map reader sat at the front of the room while several of the bug-helmeted gunners monitored it. Volt decided that was where he needed to be. An Imperial Gunner with the rank insignia of a Lieutenant Commander turned and faced him at the HoloVid of local space. "Commander Volt, I didn't expect to see you down here in Gunnery Control while the Insertion was under attack?"

"Lieutenant Commander Eiryn, I presume?" It was hard to tell who anyone was through the eerie appearance of the glassy black helmets, but Eiryn was the only high ranking female officer onboard the starship and her voice along with the way she pleasantly filled out her uniform left no doubt who she was under the helmet. "Captain Halser has the bridge and he wanted me to handle operations down here. Actually I'm only here in an observational capacity. This station is still yours to command."

"Halser sent you to check up on me, huh?" Eritech remained noncommittal, but as a proper ISB agent he had more than one negative opinion about women serving in the military. "Well, sit back and enjoy the show, because the Insertion's turbolasers are going to make short work of this new threat."

"What do we know of this new attack so far?" he asked, while he looked over the power readings on the warships weaponry along one side of the compartment. The main turrets were all charged and primed, but they showed dangerously low levels of tibanna gas in their supply bunkers, which gravely concerned him.

"Fleet Admiral Yos, as I'm sure you were already aware, had us on patrol halfway between the Earth and their satellite moon. About twenty minutes ago we picked up the launches of over nine hundred high altitude long-range missiles."

"Like the ones that attacked that TIE/WAC a while back." Eritech asked.

"These ones appear quite larger, and were getting radiation readings off of most of them." Eritech's heart jumped. The Insertion was about to be on the receiving end of a massive nuclear attack.

"How long until impact?" He wondered how to get to the nearest emergency escape pods, and if he even had enough time to make it there.

"We're estimating twenty two hours Sir." She reported flatly.

"That can't be right. Twenty two hours? Why launch them at all then?"

"The missiles and other shuttle craft the fleet has captured have all shown a lack of sublight engines. The primitive things the abos on Earth throw up at us all run on antique gas-turbines and jet propulsion. Fierfek, I even heard scuttlebutt that the one shuttle, the Quill captured out by Mars, took about a year to reach there from Earth." She laughed. He smiled too, mostly to show he wasn't worried about the attack anymore, but also to confirm that he had heard something to that
effect as well.

"Well we should be able to dodge them easily enough at those speeds then. Do we know who's launching them? I understand they have quite a few scattered nation-states down there?" He asked to pass the time. If he had known the attack was going to be this slow he would have taken a nap in his quarters before wandering down to Gunnery Control.

"Launches were detected coming from the eastern portion of the main continental mass as well as the northern portion of the lesser continental mass." She glanced at the map reader again for more data. "SigInt and Target Acquisition are claiming to have detected launches from the nations of The People's Republic of China, the Republic of India, the Russian Federation, and the North American Union, with all four of the countries launching within minutes of each other. At least three other nations are assisting in the attack, by feeding targeting information to the attacking nations."

"We're sure, we are the target then?"

She motioned to the map reader. "We're the only thing out here, Sir. There was a TIE/WAC over their southern pole, but he bugged out as soon as the attack began."

"Commander, TargAcq is picking up the launch of several other missiles. They've already locked their targeting computers on us as well." A gunner reported from his nearby station.

"Lock onto them for the heavy turrets as well.' She directed, and Eritech noticed that each of the previous oncoming missiles had already been locked and targeted by the Insertion's own targeting computers.

"These ones seem to be accelerating much faster, Ma'am. They have already overflown the first group of projectiles." The Gunner manning the SubSpace Radar relay informed them.

"SubSpace Radar is having trouble getting a lock on these new weapons. They're changing direction too quickly and keep disappearing in and out of radar lock."

"The bridge is expecting impact from the new contacts in four hours." Gunners were reporting from every station now, and Eritech was reminded of the controlled chaos of the bridge.

"You think they might have developed some type of stealth field, but instead of using them on ship shields, they've got some attached to missiles?" Eritech asked the gunner that was in contact with the subspace radar station. There was a moment of silence as the crewman asked the technicians on the other side of the commo the same question.

"Negative Commander. SubSpace Radar is suspecting some type of radar absorbing hull material on the missiles along with an upgraded booster and guidance system for increased speed." The answer came back to him. These Earthlings could be crafty.

"Captain Halser is ordering us to lock onto the first two missiles with all eight batteries, Ma'am. He is moving us away from the planet to a new position around the local moon." A technician stated. Eritech read the map reader and saw that the Insertion was indeed putting distance between itself and its attackers. He wondered if the missiles would have enough fuel to even reach the warship at that distance.

"Compensate for the ship's movement." Eiryn ordered her men. She put her hand to the side of her helmet and Eritech could tell she was getting orders from the bridge through her internal comset. "Fire turrets three and four." Eritech squinted as the bright flashes ripped away from the guns as the Insertion let loose with her opening salvo.

"Missiles have changed course again." A technician shouted. "One miss. One glancing hit." Eritech covered his eyes as a distant nuclear explosion erupted as one of the missiles detonated. "Thirty one of the new contacts remaining. All of them are undergoing evasive maneuvers."

"Keep as good a lock on them as possible. Order all main battery turrets including one and two with their ion cannons to open fire. All secondary turrets are to remain standing by for close in defense." Lieutenant Commander Eiryn directed her crew. Several seconds later heavy blaster rounds shot into space towards the enemy that still hadn't come into eyesight range.

The attack raised the tension in the compartment, as shot after shot missed. Every once in a while one of the attackers would erupt in a fiery death. Eritech consoled himself with the thought that every missed shot was still at least impacting the Earth, until Eiryn informed him that at this range the blaster shots were probably dissipating in the planet's atmosphere or impacting one of the Earth's many oceans.

There were two targets remaining, and the main batteries were almost empty of their tibanna stockpiles, when the secondary turrets opened up. The pair of remaining missiles had finally come within range of the smaller weapons. The addition of so many batteries to the battle lit up the space around the star destroyer, which only grew brighter when the two missiles were blown apart by the superheated plasma bolts of the warship's batteries.

The compartment erupted into cheers. There were still nine hundred of the slower missiles coming at them, but those could easily be destroyed by the ship's TIEs or they could simply move out of their way. An alarm cut off the cheer, and every gunner looked to their own station for the mysterious cause.

"We have another launch! This one is from the moon. It's another one of those quick bastards!" The gunner in communication with SubSpace Radar shouted.

"It's behind our stern. Thirty seconds to impact!" Eiryn yelled out as she watched the map reader. Eritech gave a silent prayer to the Emperor for whom he had failed, and thought how unfair it was that his life had been cut short.
The impact was so powerful that it sent every gunner in the compartment flying violently across the room. The lights flickered on and off, but Eritech was still alive. Steam and emergency lights cut across the darkened compartment, and the air was filled with the screams of wounded crew members. The map reader was still operating, and Eritech rose to his feet from where he had landed and walked over to it. It blinked on and off several times, but it left the most horrible imagery every time he gazed at it.

The diamond shaped hull of the Insertion, including her engineering and reactor sections seemed intact, but the superstructure and heart of the mighty warship had been decapitated in the blast. The rest of the starship was floating dead in the vacuum. Eritech thought of the traitors who had surely died in the blast and thought that this was the chance he had been looking for to save himself.

He reached for the comset in the room and called for the damage control center of the ship. He keyed the transceiver several times before he got a response. "This is Damage Control, who is this?" An angry and hurried voice called from somewhere several decks below him."

"This is Commander Volt. The superstructure has been lost, and we're bleeding atmosphere. I'm in Gunnery Control. I need you to feed all damage control through me up here, and get as many sailors as you can working on plugging that hole, and seal all decks that lead to the superstructure."

"Sir, the Battle of Kabal, Maul, and the Kuat's Lightening have all arrived and are offering their assistance as well as engaging the incoming missile strike." A technician on the HyperRad station informed him.

"Put me through to them." He ordered the crewman. The technician signaled back that he was patched through on the fleet channel. "This is Bridge Commander Volt and I have command of the Insertion."

Agen's Light, North Martian Pole, Ares Vallis Approach

Ashla took the flight controls from Rana so she could attempt her very first atmospheric entry with the Agen's Light. She reached gently out with the Force to help her reflexes and used her heightened awareness to adjust to the controls. The female Duro, who had become the freighter's unofficial pilot, never felt a thing as the padawan utilized her Force sensitivity.
Rana finished flying past Moff Kuat's mobile orbital drive yard where a mysteriously damaged star destroyer was undergoing massive repairs, before Ashla fully took control of the vessel. The small crew had searched the data records and news reports on the fleet's fledgling HoloNews, and hadn't uncovered any news of the Agen's Light being stolen. Hopefully the freighter's original owner either hadn't made it through the big jump, or hadn't noticed it had gone missing yet. Brakatak had told her that Tarkin's troops had been loading every ship and machine onboard transports on Desparye before they joined Tarkin's Fist. It had probably been meant for an Imperial officer's private use or for civilian contractors inside the maw.

The rest of the crew had figured out pretty quick that Ashla hadn't come across the ship by normal means. There were just too many holes in her story, like the fact that she didn't exactly know the rules of Sabacc, or the problem that she hardly knew her way around her own craft. They were more than ready to accept her as the ship's captain and owner anyways, and after they had spent the last month helping to rebuild the ore mining facility in the Phasma Belt, Brakatak had used his connections with one of the mines administrators to gain her freedom and transfer ownership of the Agen's Light legally into her name. Well at least her alias's name, she was pretty sure she was still being hunted as Ashla Ti, even if this odd fleet seemed more loyal to Tarkin than Palpatine.

Ashla entered the atmosphere at a safe angle while Rana reminded her to keep an eye on the hull's temperature. The stock-light freighter barely shuddered as it made contact with the upper atmosphere. Ashla's sensors read the oxygen levels were much higher than the last time she had been near the planet, and life sign readings showed millions of beings working on the surface of the planet below.

Martian Flight Control made contact with her vessel and Rana responded to them, notifying the SubSpace radar operators that they were miners from the Phasma Belt and civilian spacers looking for work. A pair of TIE/in fighters pulled along both sides of the freighter and ordered her to land at the freighter port at Culter City, the main surface colony on Mars, and home of most of Moff Culter's terraforming efforts. Once they were south of the pole, Ashla spotted a long blue line beneath them contrasting against the red soil of the planet.

"What do you think that is?" Ashla pointed at the blue ribbon below.

"It looks like some kind of pre-fab aqueduct piping. They must be piping water from the poles down to the city. I can see a bunch of other terraforming machines down there too." Rana took in an audible gasp of air. "Would you look at that?"

"Is that what I think it is?" They both were staring at a mountain and valley ahead that was covered in a blanket of green algae. Ashla dropped a few thousand more meters and spotted several dozen agriculture droids working amongst the tiny plants.

"I wonder how long it'll be before they get crops growing again?" Rana pondered.

Ashla remembered how close she came to ending up in the Jedi Agricultural Corps, before she thought of the sad tale of those almost-Jedi massacred during the purge. "I think they'll wait till they get the seasons figured out a bit more, before they start planting on any sort of large scale. Those AgiDroids won't be enough to raise a descent crop."

"I heard they were freeing slaves to work in huge greenhouses outside of the city. I thought about joining up, since I once worked as a crop duster on Naboo after the war, but then I ran into old Brakatak back there and decided to stick around a bit. I ended up getting my freedom anyways, just like you." Rana explained

"You think Brakatak would like to land for us. He doesn't have a lot of experience doing that you know." Ashla suggested.
Rana flipped on the ship's intercom. "We need an annoyingly talkative Gran in the cockpit as soon as possible." She clicked off the comlink, and giggled along with Ashla. The Togruta was still getting used to hanging out with other females, but already was getting that familiar feeling of being part of a pack again, or herd, or school, or whatever her fellow pack members were calling themselves.

The big Gran entered the cockpit a few minutes later followed by his fishy sidekick Frip. The Ishi Tib rivaled Brakatak in friendliness, but with his green skin and strange speech patterns he reminded Ashla of Master Yoda. She remembered the feeling of being aided by the Jedi master while she was meditating on the strange waves and ripples in the Force during the big jump all those months ago. She pushed those thoughts aside and greeted her friends. "You want to take it for a spin, big guy?"

"Will our new friends outside let us stray far." He indicated the fighters flying escort.

"I don't think it'd be wise to try." Rana suggested. "They seem a bit jumpy lately."

"They've got quite the military build-up here." Ashla observed as she switched seats with Brakatak. "Our sensors picked up a bunch of targeting computers tracking us while we were coming in, and I've seen a couple of turrets also."

"Take a look at that." Brakatak pointed at a large dust cloud approaching a city that shimmered in the mid-day sun. An Acclamator II-class star destroyer hung in the thin air over the small metropolis ahead, as the dust cloud approached the city. "I don't think that's natural."

"Slow down a bit, I think those are walkers." Brakatak pushed the nose of her freighter down and slowed the craft to a crawl. Her two escorts shot ahead, but ignored the freighter as she made her approach. Below them lay a red dirt road covered with dozens of AT-ATs, Juggernauts, and older AT-TEs crammed together in a massive dusty traffic jam. She spied thousands of Stormtroopers milling about on the road underneath the walkers, while Scouttroopers buzzed around the column kicking up more dust with their speederbikes. The sight was made more impressive when Frip estimated that it was only one legion amongst several corps in the fleet.

"Agen's Light, this is Culter City Flight Control." The comset broke in. "You are clear to park on public landing pad Besh-17, just follow the beacon signal, and it'll guide you right in." A radio technician commanded them from somewhere in the city below. Over the city, the occupants of the light freighter talked about how the architecture was a lot like those of desert planets with all the pourstone buildings that had been erected. The edifices and walls of the city were the same red shade as the Martian landscape, and a few of them were already twenty stories or higher. A huge tower was being constructed in the middle of the growing city that somehow reminded her of the Jedi Temple from her childhood. Ashla tried to push that memory aside and concentrate on the rest of the metropolis. Several large hangers and bunker systems marked where the initial terraformers lived under the surface of the planet before the air thickened up enough for beings to live on the surface. Ashla wondered how many freed slaves below she would recognize from her own days aboard the Chain.

"Thank You, Culter City." Brakatak snorted over the comlink. He didn't do too badly bringing the starship in for a landing.

There was only a slight jarring thud when he placed the freighter on the pad, but Rana assured him it was alright. "That's why they put shock absorbers in landing gear."

The crew secured the ship and Rana shut the sublight engines down. She seemed eager to get with the two Firrerreon girls to do some scavenging as she had made a complete shopping list of new parts and weapons she wanted to add to the stock freighter. Some of the things had sounded quite exotic, but Ashla didn't mind all the tinkering with her ship. She remembered the way of the Jedi was not to get attached to material things and tried to think of the Agen's Light as her new pack's starship, even though they all insisted that it belonged to her.

Rana and the girls were the first to leave, followed by Frip and Brakatak who left to go and seek out work for the crew. Whatever he found, Ashla hoped it wasn't more mining as she had gotten her fill of that line of employment out in the Phasma Belt. She was left with the two Utais Erw and Raf who were napping in the crew compartment. She thought about rousing them and asking if they'd go and find more fuel for the ship, since the liquid metal fuel the freighter ran on was a lot rarer than the ore based fuel the sublight engines of the fleet's star destroyers and walkers used.

Ashla went out into the main corridor and breathed deeply of the fresh air that blew in from the loading ramp that Brakatak had left down. The air from outside was much thinner than anything she was used too, and it had a crisp chill in it despite the fact that it was around noon in the city. Ashla remembered another spacer telling her back at the ore mine that they were still trying to raise the temperature on Mars.

She left the ship and immediately braced herself against the frigid temperature of the red planet, that reminded her of stories she had heard of Rhen Var or Hoth. She pondered for a moment why the planet was buried under a mile of ice instead of its covering of red dust. Ashla did a walk around inspection to see if the freighter had suffered any new micrometeor strikes, but when she was satisfied with her check she decided to take advantage of the thin Martian atmosphere. She tied the top of her utility overalls around her waist and wore only a tank top in the frigid air, knowing her workout would quickly heat her up. She gripped handholds on the Agen's Light hull and did a hundred pull-ups and leg lifts. As a practitioner of form V of lightsaber combat it was important for her to be able to be stronger and more dominant than her opponents. Togruta weren't the biggest beings around, but they were quick and hardly ever developed the fat reserves of species from cooler planets. Ashla had tried to maintain her physique through the years of captivity, which hadn't been tough when she was assigned manual labor day after day, along with a near-starvation diet. She spent the next hour doing calisthenics on the landing pad and enjoying the exhilaration that a good work out brought.

She left the openness of the landing pad and reentered the main cargo hold of the Agen's Light for a little more privacy for the next stage of her workout. She pulled out her datapad and pulled up her training program that Jedi Master Agen Kolar had left with her all those years ago. Ashla then retrieved her lightsaber from its hiding place and took a moment to relish its feel in her hand once again. The hilt was heavily ridged with thick hand grips which ran up the solid casing to a beveled beam emitter. She had wished when she first constructed it that she had made it curved for a better grip to her palm, but Master Agen had assured her that it was a powerful weapon none-the-less.

Ashla moved her dominant leg behind her and raised the lightsaber to the high guard position, where she gripped the hilt with both hands over her head with the blade held at an upwards angle to her rear. She focused first on quick aggressive strikes as the whir of the lightsaber echoed throughout the starship as the blue blade arced around her. Through the Force she felt the pair of Utais awaken and come out and watch her practice from the secrecy of a corridor bulkhead. She was so lost in the elegant movements and strokes of her art that she didn't care if her two little friends spotted her. They were members of the pack after all, and pack members needed to know how to protect each other. She felt their sense of awe and amazement as she went through the advanced movements of the Shein form of combat.

In mid slash she switched her style to Djem So and focused on more powerful means of attack and chose to ignore the defense for the time being. She maneuvered through several powerful overhand power blows that sent sparks flying across the compartment as the blade nicked the roof. She thought of how Djem So protected her from ranged and melee attacks and practiced her defense against both. For a moment she thought of having the little Utais shot at her with a blaster on a low setting, before she remembered how rare blaster gas was these days. She fought against the inherent weakness of Djem So's lack of mobility and tried to move about the compartment as much as possible. She even tried a few Ataru acrobatic flips to compensate and add to her own defensive style.

When she was done she stood in the center of the room panting for air and feeling completely connected to the Force in a way that had eluded her during her time on the run. The Force embraced her in the light side and filled her with happiness, joy, and benevolence all at once.

Erw and Raf approached her cautiously and Ashla was surprised to see that they hadn't fled in terror when they first witnessed her actions. She let the blade retract within the hilt, and then tucked it into a safe place inside of the Togruta sash wrapped around her waist. The two little Utais exclaimed to each other rapidly in their native Utai tongue, but she was able to pick out one word over and over: Jedi.

"That's right, my friends you have nothing to fear from me, but it is time I properly introduced myself. I am the former Jedi Padawan Ashla Ti, of the Jedi Temple's Mighty Bear Clan and Master Agen Kolar, and I am now a Jedi Knight." Her trials were complete.
--------------------------------------------
Oceanus Procellarum, One Kilometer Southeast of Earth Moon Base, Lunar Surface


This was going to be a lot tougher than the Mars Mission, CC-2224 told himself as he stared down towards the Earthling colony with the aid of his macrobinoculars. Several white and orange 'enviro-suited' clad earthlings walked a patrol around the perimeter of the base, and each seemed to be armed with clunky looking slugthrowers. Not only that, but there seemed to be a lot more of them here than on the fourth planet.

Life signs readings had indicated at least ninety beings still in the colony, which meant that Cody's troopers outnumbered the enemy by a ratio of four to three, unfortunately he was hamstrung by the fact that fleet command wanted as many prisoners as they could lay their hands upon. Naval Intelligence had informed them, from interrogations with the Mars prisoners that the base was lightly defended and had over a hundred personnel, but Cody had his own opinions on Military intelligence and they weren't very high.

Cody, Bly, and A'den had been inserted into position on the moon Luna, along with three platoons of forty zero-g assault spacetroopers each, by Gamma-class assault shuttles the previous evening. A'den and his platoon had suffered the first casualties when they had entered an abandoned Chicom base. The Chinese had booby trapped their fuel reserve and the resulting explosion had cost the lives of the two ScoutTroopers who had entered the base first. The two men had both been Kaminoan Clones from one of the first batches to be decanted. They had served their time and deserved to be enjoying their retirement, but instead had died noiselessly on a cold backwater moon without ever seeing the enemy. After that Cody and the rest of the clones on the mission weren't exactly in the mood to take prisoners.

The slugthrowers the patrol carried were a surprise as well, but the moon base had already been underestimated too many times and Fleet Admiral Yos wasn't going to be bitten by the same Rancor three times. Hidden missile batteries had shocked the bombers that struck the shuttle that had been stationed here, and the nuclear attack that had crippled the Insertion had left the Tarkin's Fist on high alert. Cody hadn't seen this many excited military officers since the days after the Battle of Geonosis.

Several of his own troopers had unintentionally set off odd land mines around the base, but hadn't suffered any injuries due to the durability of the Mark I and Mark II space suits that the SpaceTroopers wore. The mines themselves were something called claymores that had been adapted by the base's defenders to explode in a vacuum. The earthlings were proving themselves to be cleverer than anyone had assumed when the fleet had first contact with them. Unfortunately for the Earth, their defensive attacks had only solidified the beings of Tarkin's Fist in their desire to press the attack.

Due to the lack of tibanna the fleet hadn't opened up with a full scale planetary bombardment of Earth, but they had started a large enough electronic warfare and propaganda campaign against the third planet's people. TIE/WACs orbited the Earth constantly jamming everything the Earth tried to send, and openly defying the Earth government's demands. No capital warships had approached the planet since the Insertion's attack, but Admiral Bacara had assured Cody that they were being held in reserve for something special.

Instead Fleet Admiral Yos was content to keep nipping at the Earthlings. He had sent Lancer-class frigates to capture or destroy every deep space probe the Earth had sent around its local system, including ones near its own sun, Sol. In revenge for the attack on one of his star destroyers Yos had ordered Cody and his men to take the moon away from the Earth as well. The captured moon was to hang in the sky every night and remind the Earthlings that the enemy was looking down on them.

That was why Cody and Bly were laid flat out in the grey dust of the freezing moon spying on the so called Eagle Base of the North American Union. They had spotted several of the Chinese working with the Americans at the base and figured that was the reason they had abandoned their own. A'den had brought his men back to the NAU base after gathering as much intelligence as they could before rejoining the assault force. His platoon was now emplaced on the opposite ridge from Bly and Cody's own platoons.

A'den men had captured a pair of earthlings manning an outpost that contained a simple radar that was connected with two missile batteries along his ridge, unfortunately A'den also reported that the two captives had gotten a warning out to their base via a communication cable A'den's troopers uncovered. This led to the five man patrol of Earthlings slowly making its way towards Cody's own position. He thought it was wasteful of the Earth commander to throw away his men like this, but he wasn't going to look a gift eopie in the mouth.

"Snipers check in" Bly ordered next to him.

"Aurek team standing by."

"Besh standing by."

"Pick your targets men." Cody alerted them. "Try aiming for those gold faceplates of theirs." Cody waited a few more seconds until all five men below him were out in the open before he gave the order. "Take em out."

Cody never heard the shots ring out. All he ever saw was five red flashes and the shattering of all five helmet shields of the men approaching. The corpses of the Earthmen slowly fell to the lunar surface, their slugthrowers scattering about as
they impacted with the surface.

"Targets down." Both teams echoed each other. Cody had counted off less than half a second between each target and figured they never had a chance to get a warning off to the base in time.

"Nice shooting boys." Bly congratulated.

"Assault Team Cody move forward to the edge of the outlying buildings." Cody ordered through the comlink in his helmet.

"Team Bly provide over watch." Bly was all business in the field. Thirty eight bulky SpaceTroopers rose from whatever cover they had been hiding behind or under and slowly bounded forward. Cody followed closely behind with his comset radioman. The flashes of thrusters aided the troopers as they fought against the low gravity in their silent charge forward. Cody hated fighting in total vacuum. The sensory deprivation got to him after awhile, but he tried to focus on his own HUD's feed and his platoon's commo to make up for the lack of background sounds he was used to. It didn't help that he was stuck inside EVO armor and wrapped up in a Mark II space armor suit. The thing left him feeling like a two meter tall battle tank as he jumped and hopped across the flat surface of the moon. It could have been worse he told himself. They could still be wearing the old Mark Is from the War. The only way those things let you know what was happening was through their small viewport. Neyo still tells a story of having a Weequay on his back for over an hour and never realizing it until somebody blasted the dumb Sep off of him. The Mark IIs at least had sensory implants that let their operators be more aware of their surroundings.

"Everyone better have their forward lights switched off or you're going to get a good kick in the shebs, and that will be the least of your worries." Cody called to his men.

Cody reached the area where the five Earthlings had been shot down. Their own forward lights shot beams of illumination into the dark sky. The Clone Marshal did his best to bend down and get a better look at one of the bodies. Gold plating covered the man's shattered face shield, and as Cody peered into the helmet he saw that the man didn't have much of a face left after the sniper round had burned a nice hole all the way through the Earthling's head and out the back of his helmet. He didn't look at the other four bodies, but guessed they were in pretty much the same shape.

"We've got movement on the roof of the large building on the left." One of his troopers reported. Cody looked towards the indicated building and tried to pick out whatever had alerted the trooper. A man hunched over behind some large piece of equipment moved about while another figure ducked into an opening in the structure's roof.

"It's a sure bet they know we're here vods. Get to that first wall as quick as possible. Move! Move!" The man on the roof seemed to be throwing something, and a few seconds later small explosions erupted amongst his advancing men. He heard tiny pieces of shrapnel bounce off of his own suit, even though he was a good fifty meters from any of the explosions. The microgravity of the moon allowed the dangerous debris to fly much further than it would have if the Earthlings had chosen to defend a respectable planet. His HUD was showing that none of his men were being injured by the blasts as they were unable to pierce the armor systems of the Mark IIs.

"Take that guy out!" Some of the troopers stopped their advance to fire at the sentry with their blaster cannons while the others advanced under their comrade's covering fire. Cody was relieved when he saw several of them make it to the cover of the buildings. The man on the roof stood and fired his slugthrower towards Cody's men that were still in the open field. No one complained of being hit and he didn't see any of his men go down. His radioman next to him opened up with the miniature proton torpedo hurler connected to his left wrist. The bright green projectile shot across the battlefield and impacted with the machine the man was hiding behind, both of them were atomized in the explosion as it rocked the building.

Cody reached the first building's wall and caught up with his troops. He took just a second to catch his breath. His HUD showed that A'den platoon was assaulting the colony from the far side while Bly was engaging Earthlings on several rooftops with his snipers. The earth defenses were crumbling.

"Ok, Assault Team Cody, I want a Krayt Dragon Assault aimed at that control center Intel found. Try to take as many prisoners as possible, but don't be shy about flipping between stun and blaster on your blasters." His men moved to the most likely entrances to the facility and started smashing or blasting their way in. The base had self sealing blast doors that needed to be bypassed in some places, but once they got around them, it allowed the close quarter's battle to rage inside of an atmosphere again.

The rattling pop of the Earthmen's slugthrowers echoed throughout the complex as Cody pressed forward alongside his men. Their large spacesuits made it hard to advance quickly through the narrow confines of the lunar base. At times one of his troopers would engage a whole squad of the enemy, but since his own man blocked the entire hallway with the bulk of his Mark II, there was no way the rest of his troopers could aid him. Cody would be more worried if the earth weapons were having any type of effect on his men. He witnessed several of his troopers with hundreds of pockmarks and scratches from being hit by entire clips from the enemy's inefficient slugthrowers.

A noise above Cody turned his attention and an Earth female dropped from the ceiling tiles directly in his path. Cody noted the slugthrower in her hands, but his own armor didn't allow him to move fast enough to stop her. She raised the primitive weapon and unloaded the weapon at a distance of almost a meter. Cody was sure if he was in his regular Phase II CloneTrooper armor or even the newer StormTrooper armor he would have been cut in half by the blast. His attacker had a fierce look of determination on her face, before a look of confusion swept her features.

Her attack had no effect on her target, and worse yet ricochets from the close attack were beginning to cause blood to blossom all over her own uniform. In her haste to attack Cody she had murdered herself. Cody was in shock as the female collapsed at his feet. His own platoon's medic knelt down beside the woman and checked for signs of life. He looked back up at Cody and shook his head to show there was nothing he could have done.

"Building three secured." A squad reported over the commo.

"Maintenance hangar secured."

"Control room secured." More squads reported in, and Cody couldn't pick up the sounds of battle coming from elsewhere anymore. "I want the prisoners wrapped in enviro-suits and brought outside for immediate EVAC. Get demo teams to do a complete sweep of the colony for any booby-traps and explosives." He stood there for a minute listening to the acknowledgements of more and more buildings being secured by his forces.

"Get on the radio and get those Gammas down here for a pick up," He ordered his radioman. "And let Fleet know that the Empire has struck back."

Michigan State University, Lansing, Michigan, NAU, Earth

"They've cancelled classes until further notice." Justin's roommate Chad informed him, as he entered the dorm room they shared.

"You wouldn't be able to tell by the radio." Justin complained. Not that he had been able to get anything from his stereo besides static for weeks now. "When are they resuming again?"

"Nobody has any clue. You should try dialing up the internet." His roommate suggested as he started rummaging through the fridge for something to eat.

"Sure it'll just take a few minutes."

"Man I hate dial-up. It's way too freaking slow." Chad complained. "It's like what my grandpa would have used or something."

"Well, we've got cable again. They've been showing that footage the aliens released on their attack on the moon. At least the TV channels aren't showing it with sound anymore."

"That pissed me off. Surrender Earthlings to the Galactic Empire propaganda nonsense. That footage of the astronauts that they killed was a mistake. I think they upset a lot of people. The President's on the front page of the newspaper again calling for a unified stand, freedom, unity with those bastards down south, democracy, and a bunch of other junk." Chad fixed himself a sandwich.

"I don't know man, I've been thinking about what I'm going to do."

"You thinking of signing up?"

"Yeah, my fam lost an uncle down in Brazil, and I've got a cousin in the 1st Armored down in the Canal DMZ. My sister called and she's thinking of signing up when she graduates high school this summer." Justin mused. "We've got to do something. Everyone is saying the reason the President didn't back down when they captured our Mars Lander Team was the Empire guy was demanding slaves or something."

"He can demand all he wants. This is our planet and our solar system. If you want to go talk to a recruiter I'll come with. From what I've heard down at the student union, Congress is talking about reinstating a draft soon anyways. I might as well go in on my own terms instead of being dragged into it." Chad agreed. "I'd call my Dad and ask him what he thinks, but my cell phone isn't any better than a paperweight these days."

"The paper says the phone companies are installing something called pay phones around the city soon. I hope one goes in the dorms." Justin tried to stay optimistic.

"At least the aliens seem to be humans of some kind. At least that's what the media have been showing. Those robot armored guys on the moon look like something out of an old Terminator movie, and the only one we've seen in the flesh was the picture of that old guy that was dressed up like some type of World War II German general or something."

"I don't know. I have a feeling they're not showing us everything." Justin suggested.

"What the alien empire or the government?"

"Both probably. Maybe the human ones are like a warrior class or something?"

"You watch too much of that Star Fleet Sci-Fi crap."

"Probably, also true."

They left for the Armed Forces Recruitment Center later that afternoon. As usual the satellite radio was dead in his car, so they listened to music from their personal music players. Justin was glad for the privacy his headphones provided as Chad had done nothing but complain about the dirty backstabbing aliens. Supposedly he had run into some kind of rally at the student union that morning and the student body was up in arms about the bloody assault on the moon as well. The cancellation of classes couldn't have been helping matters much.

They pulled up to the building and saw a line that went out the door, of kids his age waiting to talk to the recruiters.

"Looks like a long wait, Dude." Chad observed. "You still want to do this?"

Justin thought of his family and stared at the patriotic posters in the windows. A marine in his full dress uniform came outside and started talking to people waiting in line outside. A couple of cute girls seemed to be checking out the recruiter while they killed time in the line. But what really got Justin was the image of what those aliens had done to his countrymen on the moon. The sights of those defenseless astronauts sprawled about the most advanced site of human achievement had really gotten to him, and by the looks of the procession outside the recruiters, it had bothered quite a few North Americans as well.

"Yes, definitely. Someone needs to."
--------------------------------------------
Fleet Headquarters, Tarkin Tower, Culter City, Mars


The towering military complex was still being moved into, by the administration of Tarkin's Fist, and the thousands of personnel assigned there, were getting used to their new headquarters. In front of the massive entrance at street level, Fleet Admiral Yos was pleased as several squads of Stormtroopers snapped to attention as he exited his armored repulserlift transport. A Stormtrooper Lieutenant in the brand new armor Kuat's scientists were finally getting around to issuing out to the troops, held the transpiristeel doors open for him and his entourage.

The chilly air on the reddish planet was still pretty thin, and Yos found himself struggling to catch his breath as he walked up the stairs leading into the reinforced edifice. He wished he had more time to keep in shape, but the rigors of command kept him far from the gym. It wasn't like he was going to have to pass a Stormtrooper physical fitness exam anytime soon, so he put the worry aside. He was surprised to see several civilian workers strolling about the atrium of the complex as he entered. He supposed they were dependants that had finally been cleared from their starship transports in orbit above and allowed to find work near their military family members. A pair of attractive female Twileks were busy working at the security desk checking the identification of everyone that passed through the building. Yos noted that a hidden room behind the females was occupied by a well armed squad of Imperial Marines in case anyone gave the blue and green Twileks any trouble. The cute Tail-heads came to attention as the Fleet Admiral and his entourage passed through their station. He wasn't sure if he was starting to go senile or not, but he could have sworn one of the colorful young piffers winked at him as he went by.

The offices he passed by were laid out by individual services, such as the Imperial Army, Navy, and Marines. He had planned it that way, so that the troopers associated themselves with the military and moved away from owing their loyalties to their Moffs. There wasn't any way of knowing whether or not the being working next to you came from Culter's or Seco's squadrons. He had even issued Imperial uniforms to the crews of Moff Kuat's Third Kuati Fleet in a measure to integrate them into his own forces. He kept his Moffs as occupied as he could, so much so, that he hadn't heard more than a token resistance to his new policies.

He stepped inside of the main high-security turbolift and used his Fleet Admiral's clearance to rise to the penthouse conference center where he would hold the first of his weekly command briefings inside the new headquarters building. The staff and assistants of the trio of Moffs sat in the large waiting room when he exited the lift. They were being served caf by a naval steward, but the officers in the room still snapped to attention as he came into view. Their civilian counterparts were a bit slower about it, but he couldn't fault them. Civies were always slower than proper military troops in his opinion. He waved off their greetings and salutes as he passed through them and entered the conference room.

The room was situated in a circular fashion and had four large reclining chairs orientated towards the center of the room. Behind three of the chairs were situated another seat where each of the Moff's personal Admiral was perched behind their respective governor. Three smaller seats were situated behind Yos's own chair, and they were in turn filled with his Captains Yos and Dual as well as Commander Charge, all of his flagship, the ISDII Quill. The architect, from Kuat's fleet if he recalled right, had said the concept of the room and tower was based on the old Jedi Temple during the waning days of the Old Republic Era. Yos was pretty sure Emperor Palpatine would be throwing fits if he knew Imperial officers were meeting in a room based on those old designs of the traitorous Jedi. He found himself caring less and less about what old Palps thought, the longer he stayed on Mars.

He waved the officers down as they started to rise when he entered, and he was happy to see that everyone was already present when he arrived. He sat down in his designated chair as an attractive female Zeltronian steward appeared with a cup of caf before the briefing officially got underway. A small dictating droid floated around the room as well as a pair of HoloCam droids who would record the meeting for prosperity, even though whatever they recorded would be classified as top secret for the next fifty standard years.

The Moffs each nodded their own greeting to the Fleet Admiral as he motioned for Commander Charge to start the meeting. The young engineering Commander stood in the center of the circle and aimed his address towards the Fleet Admiral. His report told of production level increases in tibanna production at the gas mining facility at Earth 5, despite the fact that the Ugnauts were complaining of price fixing by the Fleet Admiral. Yos dismissed the complaint out of hand. Now that they were finally getting some use out of the facility, the Ugnauts could be replaced if they got too uppity. Charge had more good news when he relayed the fact that they were now at seventy percent production in their ore mining facility here on
Mars, and the Phasma Belt facility was back up and running after their accident a few months ago.

"We have also calculated the time it would take for our star destroyers to have burned though all their fuel and for their blaster gas to completely dissipate during the 'big jump'. My engineers have put the time needed at six hundred and fifty standard years." There were several murmurs around the room. The 'big jump' was still a mystery to everyone and the closer they got to some answers the more that arose from other areas. Like how did the crew possibly survive a journey of six hundred fifty years without the aid of sleeper pods like in the early days before hyperspace travel?

"That is all well and good Commander, please keep us informed of any other discoveries in this area. I would also like a more detailed report sent to me and the Moffs by tomorrow if possible." Yos ordered the engineering officer. "Now please continue with the rest of your report."

"Aye aye, Sir. Repairs on the ISD Insertion are proceeding on schedule, thanks to the large pool of newly released drive yard workers at Moff Kuat's Mobile Driveyard. A final casualty count of five thousand three hundred and seventy nine servicemen including Captain Halser has been forwarded to us from the warship's new commander. The casualties were less than they could have been as the Insertion had recently transferred its Stormtrooper legion here to Mars for Corps training maneuvers. They only had a small contingent of Naval Troopers onboard at the time of the Earth attack." Charge concluded his report.

"When can we expect the Insertion to rejoin her sisters in the fleet?" Moff Seco inquired. Yos knew the Moff wanted as many warships with him, when he led the attack on the rogue planet, as he could lay his hands upon.

"My driveyard foremen assure me that she'll be fully repaired within the next five standard months." Moff Kuat answered for

Charge. "I have assurances from our esteemed Fleet Admiral that he isn't planning for any type of large-scale attack to begin within that time." He indicated Yos with all his slippery Kuati charm. "We will also be installing several upgrades to the ship while she's in dry dock."

"Excellent." Yos agreed. "Commander Charge, stand to attention." The officer suddenly snapped to. The Moffs had already been notified of his decision and Yos caught Culter's knowing nod as he stood and approached the commander. The
Captain's rank insignia in his hand surprised Charge, but he hid it well. Yos could tell the man was further astounded when he told him in front of the gathered crowd that he was also assigning him as one of the heads of his Bureau of Operations in charge of supply, equipping, research, and repairs of Tarkin's Fist. The Moffs each acknowledged in their own way and Yutu and Dual both rose to congratulate their comrade. Yos was glad to see there wasn't any resentment from the other two officers, but he also knew both men were very good at keeping their feelings close to their vests.

"Captain Dual, would you like to continue the meeting with your report." Yos asked the other officer as everyone retook their seats, and another round of caf was served by the stewards.

"Yes, Sir." Each of his three Bureau Directors had different personalities, but each served Yos to their fullest capacity, which was what mattered most to the Fleet Admiral. "As you know we are continuing our electronic warfare campaign against the Earth, and as seen on the HoloNews we were successful in capturing twenty four prisoners from the Earth's Eagle Base on their moon with a loss of only two troopers. From battlefield reports it seems the Earth slugthrowers were completely ineffectual against the Mark II space suits our troopers wore."

"Will that be true of our new armor suits that we are starting to issue to the Stormtrooper Corps?" Culter asked.

"That remains to be seen, Sir. Initial testing shows they are a great improvement against slugthrowers than the old suits. We could be in trouble if the enemy ever develops blaster technology."

"The old ones weren't the greatest at stopping blasters anyways." Seco interjected.

"That is true. We are issuing them to all troopers including officers. Practice maneuvers in the field have shown a tendency for the enemy to target officers. Training is being conducted in all areas on several training sites around this planet from TIE combat to Corps maneuvers to armored warfare. The troopers will be ready when the time comes."

"Are all of the Corps transferred planetside to Mars from the fleet, yet?" Yos asked.

"Yes, Sir. Each of the four Corps with five legions apiece has been transferred to the surface here, and billeted in the new barracks that Culter erected outside of the city. The Naval Trooper garrisons aboard each star destroyer have been deemed adequate to repel any boarding attempt mounted by the Earthlings. Although the likelihood of such an attack, has been deemed very low by Fleet Intelligence." Dual indicated Yutu, who nodded in agreement. "As of right now Operations is concentrating on training and expansion of the Army, and prepping the next stage of your plan to force the Earthlings into capitulation." Dual wrapped up his report and Yos noted that his datapad was suddenly uploaded with a more detailed report from the Captain on specific ongoing operations.

Director of Intelligence Yutu was next up and his portion of the briefing always defined how the others would go the next time around. "Greetings, Fleet Admiral Yos. Moffs. Intelligence has analyzed the attack on the Insertion and deemed the missiles that struck the warship were a highly experimental prototype that was under development by forces under the Chinese and the North American Union militaries respectively. The same two nations who had stationed beings on their moon, The weapons were not cloaked but were covered in a special radar absorbing hull that gave our subspace radars all sorts of fits. Measures are being put in place so that this will not happen again. The missiles were guided by the two defense satellites that we didn't destroy in an attempt to locate their nuclear stockpiles. I am pleased that those efforts were a success and I have notified Moff Seco of the weapon stockpile and underground silo locations on the third planet." The Moff nodded his appreciation. His fleet wouldn't be caught in the same trap that befell the Insertion. "Those satellites were destroyed shortly after the battle by the Earth's own forces after, what we believe, they somehow discovered our spy programs within the software of their systems."

"Interrogations with the new batch of prisoners are proceeding well. They have already been administered the truth serum narcotics and are cooperating well enough. Complications with the first group from Mars have raised a few concerns." Yutu informed them.

"Complications?" Kuat inquired.

"One has died from unknown causes, while the other six seem to have been struck from some sort of sickness."

"Is it contagious?" Yos asked.

"The prisoners have been quarantined, but doctors treating the captives have indicated that it has something to do with their diet. Most of their provisions from the Mars base we captured were lost, but we have been able to secure new food supplies with the capture of Eagle Base which seems to have worked miracles with the health of the prisoners. This has led to some uncomfortable discoveries by my intelligence units into the overall health of the Earth's population." Yutu revealed.

"That's something I wanted to look into as well, Captain." Kuat stated. "What have you found out?"

"For starters, they seem to never have had with several maladies that are common throughout our own galaxy. That may be used to our advantage at a later time." Yos made a mental note to remember that. "They also seem to have shorter life spans than the humans and near-human species of our home galaxy. We routinely make it past one hundred standard years while it is a rarity in their society. Also cancer and heart disease seem rampant in their culture. Almost ten or twenty times higher than levels seen anywhere back home. Almost every bacterium we can be expected to come across on their planet has an equal somewhere in our home galaxy. Several diseases they're still struggling with, have had cures dating back to Old Republic times. Most of their diseases like influenza, typhoid, and cholera have been seen in scattered sectors of the Empire, but there is one troubling family of diseases that we have never come across before. The means of their spread are equally troubling when I questioned members of our own Medical Corps about it."

"What is that, Captain? Will our Stormtroopers be endangered when they make it dirtside?" Seco asked.

"Sir, it seems the Earthlings have several 'sexually transmitted' diseases. Several of them are quite fatal. I have sent you all the specifics on them to your datapads." Yos felt his stomach churn. He couldn't think of a more revolting disease. "The spread is through intercourse and I recommend quarantine and extensive medical screening of any captives we choose to extract back to Mars. The Earth humans evidently have several different means to prevent or cure the spread of such diseases. My scientific teams are anxious to get quarantined test subjects."

"I concur." Kuat agreed. "Fleet Admiral Yos, I request permission to only use workers from the Tarkin's Fist fleet in my driveyard. I recommend that all prisoners we deem appropriate enough to transfer to Mars, stay on Mars, and well away from our own beings."

"I agree, implement whatever security measures you need to on your driveyard. I don't want anything sabotaging our efforts there. Any captives should first be transferred to the Earth's moon for extensive health screenings. Moff Kuat you have my permission to build a medical screening center at their captured Eagle Base. I don't want any of those exotic maladies spreading through the Martian colony." Yos stated. "What else have you found out that you can disclose to us at this time, Captain?"

"Sir, besides health concerns we have also discovered the Earthlings have huge stockpiles of chemical weapons as well as smaller secluded armories of biological ones that they seem to keep hidden from each other. They have however, seemed to have formed a more cooperative working union between several different factions on the planet. We're not sure how much technology and information they're sharing, but it can't be enough to hurt the fleet." Yutu looked unsure of the last part.

"You say this even after the attack on the Insertion?" Seco demanded.

"We have taken measures to insure that won't happen again, and my own SigInt station has detected evidence that the Earth used up every one of those experimental types of missiles in that attack. We are still searching for the factory that produces those weapons. It's been tough because the Earth has had a radical increase in production as well as military buildup over the past several months. Most of the larger nation states have even implemented conscription programs within their countries. We've also detected indications that they seem to be working around our electronic jamming. The Earthlings have increased their production of massive amounts of fiber optic cables to work around our electronic warfare efforts with land lines. They keep broadcasting as if we're not around as well. CommScan and the TIE/WACs are still picking up thousands of signals. Though they seem to have cut down on transferring vital military information by those means." Yutu's reports were always troubling.

"Yes, I have enjoyed several of the enemy's so-called games of Futball. It reminds me of Limmie." Culter cheerfully added. "Fleet Admiral Yos, you must try their game of golf when you get a chance. I have a team of landscape architects building a course outside of the city."

"I may take you up on that Moff Culter, once you get the air to thicken up a bit more out there, my friend." Yos answered him.

"The best news is for Moff Seco's next operation. We have discovered the most likely targets for the special attack. I apologize for the length of the investigation, but it took us a while to determine that the Earthlings used power cables instead of highly noticeable power couplings. After this bit of knowledge we were able to determine the best way to cripple their production capabilities. If this goes as planned this should bring the Earthlings to the negotiations table."

"I hope your right, Captain." Yos stated ominously. "For their own sake."