Bridge of the cruiser Xion, currently residing in deep space
"Viceroy, we have another message coming in from contact Sierra Uniform Zeta Ten, and a sizeable package being recieved at that." reported the communications officer from his station. The viceroy looked at him in mild annoyance. Mentioning one of their most valuable contacts outloud to where the entire bridge could hear was not a habit that he wanted anyone to get into, but he had been adamant about everyone tending to their stations more than usual. He didn't know what was going on, but he had a feeling that something was about to happen, and whatever it was, it would not be a good experience.
His first cousin, Nute Gunray, had ignored a similar feeling when in service to the one known as Darth Sidious, mainly because he did not want to miss out on the potential profit that was to be had in his alliance to the dark lord of the Sith. Gilad did not know what was causing the goosebumps to break out on his skin, but whatever it was would present it self as a future threat, he was sure of it. Idly, he wondered if the newly recieved information update from their researchers on Obroa-Skai would be the cause of this feeling. He dismissed it for the time being. He hadn't even read the information update yet.
"Transfer it to my personal station." the viceroy ordered in a slightly growling voice. He was not in a good mood right now, and he just let everyone know about that fact. Hopefully they would get the message that he did not want to be bothered or interrupted for a time. He hoped that he would not have to discipline someone, but if necessary he wouldn't hesitate to do so. He did have several new officers serving on the bridge, his communications personnel among these. The former occupants of those stations had been promoted and transferred to their own private commands as his personal starfleet began to grow in numbers.
A moment later the information appeared on his screen, and he opened the file to look at what lay beyond. The main item of interest it seemed was a slight mention of a fairly large naval engagement taking place in the Lehon planetery system, as well as numerous reports of missing freighters and starships within the system. It was a potential salvage operation if he ever saw one, and should be sufficent to help get a new secret shipyard up and running to support their ever expanding black market deal. With the New Order and Galatic Coalition ever expanding, the free planets of the galaxy were also becoming more and more interested in acquiring their private defense navies. The wealthier planets normally opted for the high quality Stellar Enterprises line of warships, while the poorer went for the cheap and mantinence effective Starstriker Corporation line of vessels.
Viceroy Gilad, leader of said Starstriker Corporation, looked through the rest of the information, before saving the file to his personal datapad and deleting the copy that had been download onto the ship's computer. The other information concerned more long term plans, but he had the right stuff needed to put into action the short term planned creation of the private shipyard. With a jab of a finger, he opened a communications link between his personal flagship and a task force commander with his private flotilla of ships several light years away. When the link had been established, the viceroy shushed the commander who wanted to know when he would recieve his orders to move.
"You will move out immediatly. Your target is the planetery system of Lehon, coordinates *rattled them off*, and your objective is to first secure the area, then begin operations to set up Tango Foxtrot Twelve. The main dish is to be space debris, and a fair amount to be certain. That is all." Without giving the commander time to either object or ask questions about this information, the viceroy cut the link. Due to the feeling he'd been having, he didn't want any kind of an arguement from his taskforce commanders. He settled back into his comfortable command chair and steepeled his fingers, wondering what would go wrong when the time came.
* * *
"Well, I guess that's it. Ok people, we have our orders. Let's get a move on." said the taskforce commander in a huffy voice. He was not pleased at having to wait so long, then suddenly being moved to order out, without being allowed to question or even complain about his predicament. All well, at least they were moving now.
"Gunships and starfighters will leap into the system proper. Freighters and other ships will jump to within visual distance until proper communications to enter system will be recieved. Jump in five minutes."
* * *
An hour later, the fleet's vessels of war emerged into the Lehon planetery system, two standard gunships, the Sadistic and Phermone, bristling with turbolasers and ion cannons, plus two squadrons of the fast and deadly tri-fighters. Immediatly a host of contacts were announced, dotting the screen of the sensor displays aboard the gunships and starfighters, and alarms went off. The commander ordered them silenced as they were assessed for potential. When it was learned that all the contacts were blacked out, cold, and adrift, and that no hostile or otherwise neutral active contacts awaited them, he ordered the rest of the fleet brought in.
The speed at which the minions of the corporation went about their duties when money was involved was amazing, to say the least. First the modified bulk cruisers came in, and deployed the mobile construction droids as well as the alpha mineral exploiters. The latter were machines pioneered by Durga the hutt to help construct the darksaber battlestation in the Hoth asteriod belt. The droids were zero-G miners that tore apart asteriods and collected the valuable minerals there-in, melting the ore and processing it into chunks of steel and other materiel. Immediatly these went to work, melting the space debris and gathering it into their holds.
A good size space station, not the actual shipyards though, was being assembled by parts delivered by an armed barge carrier with six barges. The station was about the size of a Golan I platform though, and in fact was an industrial station that would manfacture the metals into whatever was needed for the starships that were to be constructed at the shipyard. The station would also serve as a dock for the ships assigned to protect the system, and as a security point for all vessels arriving in system.
While these processes were taking place, the two gunships and starfighters maintained a patrol around these vessels, looking for any signs of intruders or unexpected suprises, like leftover space mines. So far however, everything was going along perfectly. Then an alarm broke out on the bridge of the Sadistic, the commander's flagship. It was a deep space contact alarm, and the commander looked inquiringly at the sensors station.
"Sorry sir, system malfunction. The sensors thought that they detected a vessel dropping out of hyperspace, but nothing shows up on my screens. It could have been an anamoly as well." reported sensors. Unusually, the commander barked at him to keep quiet and to fix his damned sensors. He was already in a bad mood after the waiting and the viceroy's message, now he was jumping at ghosts. He needed a damn break.
"Viceroy, we have another message coming in from contact Sierra Uniform Zeta Ten, and a sizeable package being recieved at that." reported the communications officer from his station. The viceroy looked at him in mild annoyance. Mentioning one of their most valuable contacts outloud to where the entire bridge could hear was not a habit that he wanted anyone to get into, but he had been adamant about everyone tending to their stations more than usual. He didn't know what was going on, but he had a feeling that something was about to happen, and whatever it was, it would not be a good experience.
His first cousin, Nute Gunray, had ignored a similar feeling when in service to the one known as Darth Sidious, mainly because he did not want to miss out on the potential profit that was to be had in his alliance to the dark lord of the Sith. Gilad did not know what was causing the goosebumps to break out on his skin, but whatever it was would present it self as a future threat, he was sure of it. Idly, he wondered if the newly recieved information update from their researchers on Obroa-Skai would be the cause of this feeling. He dismissed it for the time being. He hadn't even read the information update yet.
"Transfer it to my personal station." the viceroy ordered in a slightly growling voice. He was not in a good mood right now, and he just let everyone know about that fact. Hopefully they would get the message that he did not want to be bothered or interrupted for a time. He hoped that he would not have to discipline someone, but if necessary he wouldn't hesitate to do so. He did have several new officers serving on the bridge, his communications personnel among these. The former occupants of those stations had been promoted and transferred to their own private commands as his personal starfleet began to grow in numbers.
A moment later the information appeared on his screen, and he opened the file to look at what lay beyond. The main item of interest it seemed was a slight mention of a fairly large naval engagement taking place in the Lehon planetery system, as well as numerous reports of missing freighters and starships within the system. It was a potential salvage operation if he ever saw one, and should be sufficent to help get a new secret shipyard up and running to support their ever expanding black market deal. With the New Order and Galatic Coalition ever expanding, the free planets of the galaxy were also becoming more and more interested in acquiring their private defense navies. The wealthier planets normally opted for the high quality Stellar Enterprises line of warships, while the poorer went for the cheap and mantinence effective Starstriker Corporation line of vessels.
Viceroy Gilad, leader of said Starstriker Corporation, looked through the rest of the information, before saving the file to his personal datapad and deleting the copy that had been download onto the ship's computer. The other information concerned more long term plans, but he had the right stuff needed to put into action the short term planned creation of the private shipyard. With a jab of a finger, he opened a communications link between his personal flagship and a task force commander with his private flotilla of ships several light years away. When the link had been established, the viceroy shushed the commander who wanted to know when he would recieve his orders to move.
"You will move out immediatly. Your target is the planetery system of Lehon, coordinates *rattled them off*, and your objective is to first secure the area, then begin operations to set up Tango Foxtrot Twelve. The main dish is to be space debris, and a fair amount to be certain. That is all." Without giving the commander time to either object or ask questions about this information, the viceroy cut the link. Due to the feeling he'd been having, he didn't want any kind of an arguement from his taskforce commanders. He settled back into his comfortable command chair and steepeled his fingers, wondering what would go wrong when the time came.
* * *
"Well, I guess that's it. Ok people, we have our orders. Let's get a move on." said the taskforce commander in a huffy voice. He was not pleased at having to wait so long, then suddenly being moved to order out, without being allowed to question or even complain about his predicament. All well, at least they were moving now.
"Gunships and starfighters will leap into the system proper. Freighters and other ships will jump to within visual distance until proper communications to enter system will be recieved. Jump in five minutes."
* * *
An hour later, the fleet's vessels of war emerged into the Lehon planetery system, two standard gunships, the Sadistic and Phermone, bristling with turbolasers and ion cannons, plus two squadrons of the fast and deadly tri-fighters. Immediatly a host of contacts were announced, dotting the screen of the sensor displays aboard the gunships and starfighters, and alarms went off. The commander ordered them silenced as they were assessed for potential. When it was learned that all the contacts were blacked out, cold, and adrift, and that no hostile or otherwise neutral active contacts awaited them, he ordered the rest of the fleet brought in.
The speed at which the minions of the corporation went about their duties when money was involved was amazing, to say the least. First the modified bulk cruisers came in, and deployed the mobile construction droids as well as the alpha mineral exploiters. The latter were machines pioneered by Durga the hutt to help construct the darksaber battlestation in the Hoth asteriod belt. The droids were zero-G miners that tore apart asteriods and collected the valuable minerals there-in, melting the ore and processing it into chunks of steel and other materiel. Immediatly these went to work, melting the space debris and gathering it into their holds.
A good size space station, not the actual shipyards though, was being assembled by parts delivered by an armed barge carrier with six barges. The station was about the size of a Golan I platform though, and in fact was an industrial station that would manfacture the metals into whatever was needed for the starships that were to be constructed at the shipyard. The station would also serve as a dock for the ships assigned to protect the system, and as a security point for all vessels arriving in system.
While these processes were taking place, the two gunships and starfighters maintained a patrol around these vessels, looking for any signs of intruders or unexpected suprises, like leftover space mines. So far however, everything was going along perfectly. Then an alarm broke out on the bridge of the Sadistic, the commander's flagship. It was a deep space contact alarm, and the commander looked inquiringly at the sensors station.
"Sorry sir, system malfunction. The sensors thought that they detected a vessel dropping out of hyperspace, but nothing shows up on my screens. It could have been an anamoly as well." reported sensors. Unusually, the commander barked at him to keep quiet and to fix his damned sensors. He was already in a bad mood after the waiting and the viceroy's message, now he was jumping at ghosts. He needed a damn break.