"What?!" Lt. Colonel Michaels screamed at his small protocol droid who had just told him the admiral's orders. "What the hell do you mean Adumar?!" He had heard awful stories about Adumar, of how their blood sports got the best of them, of how they had no regard for life itself, of how they were so intent on death they rarely looked upon life itself. They were so bent on honor that they had forgotten the better things in life.

"The admiral has made it a priority order and you are to dispatch immediately," the droid responded, who was known only as Needer. Needer reached down into a small compartment in his chest and removed a data pad, handing it to the colonel. "This is a full briefing of what you are to expect down there."

Michaels shrugged off the droid, who abruptly turned and left as per his master's orders. Skimming through the reports he was not pleased. There were several advantages to taking Adumar, of course...but the risks involved and the pathetic population...was it worth it?

The planet was located just near the edge of the Unknown Regions, directly linking a perfect passageway to Imperial space, provided they chose to attack break the peace with the Rogue Empire.

They as well had a massive abundance of proton torpedos...and not just any proton torpedos. They were as powerful as an advanced, even without inhanced modifications. If the Rogue Empire could take Adumar, there would be unlimited ultra torpedos coming their way.

But again, was the population worth the trouble in taking the planet?

Michaels scratched his now balding head, focusing on the datapad's glowing green texture and black fonted aeurubic letters. He would be playing escort for a diplomat, if negotiations were to fail, the planet would have to be taken through force...which would be easy yet have devastating consequences.

Apparently the primary fighter was something known as a Blade-32...the fighters Maverick Munitions had wanted to begin constructing. Maladwen always showed a keen interest in Adumar, having even bought his own blastsword to bring home. Michaels found that to be quite the interesting weapon, giving off a blaster like shot into the enemy when hit, leaving an awful scorch mark in the target, though usually not fatal...usually. At first glance any self respecting non-Adumari would shrug it off as impractical and useless, that there is no art in mixing a blaster with a sword. However...when one was to watch a duel with blastswords...that was something worth watching. Michaels had no doubts in his mind that it was an art wielding blastswords.

According to his data pad he would be ferried in via <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Imperial<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->-Class Mark II Star Destroyer <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Manticore<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, then dropped off in TIE Defenders with four other men, their missile boats being dropped off later. The mission seemed relatively easy, convince some <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> perator<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> to join the Rogue Empire, set up a shipyard there, and go home. Of course, these easy looking missions never turned out that way. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> It was supposed to be easy for the Republic so many years ago too...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

He dabbed one of the buttons with the small of his thumb, switching screens again on the pad and wincing as he saw the size of the military. They had one capital ship, a pirated Carrack Cruiser, not a big deal, but over seven thousand air craft. Obviously that would be scrappd if the Rogue Empire joined in business...but if they had to fight....that was nearly meeting Rogue Imperial standards.

Of course, a majority of them were these poorly manufactured Blade-32s, it would not be a major issue if they went to war, just a slight inconvenience. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> After all...that's why we make cluster bombs.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

The colonel let a grin form on his face as he stroked his jaw line with his index and middle fingers. Maybe fighting would not be such a bad idea.

His gloved index finger on his left hand reached down and activated his commlink. "Get my shuttle ready, I'm gonna' head over to the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Manticore<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> soon." There was an acknowledgement from the secretary, and he was off.

Adumar Takeover

Colonel Michaels' hands clutched tightly onto the yoke stick of his oddly shaped TIE Defender. His craft veered down through the atmosphere smoothely with a serene guide across the frictional surface. His wingmen, Major Dieas, Commander Celadek, and Commander Yaeo pulled distinctly next to him in a perfect line formation. As they checkered into the orbit, their trademark roar from the solar panels and twin ion engines echoed from their line of drive and toward the area around them. The Rogue Imperial craft displayed a full displayment of the awe and power Emperor Fearsons had provided.

The flight group, going under the name Ghost Rider Squadron, began flowing fluently toward what appeared to be the greatest city in Adumar, almost a mini-Coruscant, which no doubt must have been Cartann. Around them were hundreds of screaming people who seemed to be welcoming the pilots with an unrivaled passion. Flatscreens, instead of holograms, adorned the walls and sections of the buildings, showing old cams of Michaels' achievements, such as the Battle of Bothawui or the First Battle of Halowan, it even showed his heroics at the Battle of Generis, where he had assisted in the destruction of the Generisi Super Laser.

"They seem to be awful excited to see us," the TIE Defender pilot designated Ghost Rider Three, or Commander Celadek, said over the commset.

"Roger, cut the chatter," the colonel, Ghost Rider One, responded firmly.

As they proceeded down Cartann, the city curved into a narroway of alleys and passageways with hundreds of small wires that the TIE Defenders were forced to try and dodge. It came without issue, but it was slightly annoying for the expert pilots.

The flatscreens became strangely frequent to the Rogue Imperial pilots, telling even more to the people on the ground of Colonel Michaels' exploits. Racing past the primary flatscreens, the Ghost Rider group came into a major plaza around seven kilometers in all ways, with thousands of persons resting around it with their hands exaultedly in the air in excitement as the pilots ricocheted against the air and wind to make their way to one of the docking platforms that were abroad of the great center.

First it was Colonel Michaels to set down in a firm yet serene and graceful landing as the first set of solar panels made contact with the concrete of the roof. He watched for a few seconds as his systems died down and were put into sleep mode before actually removing his TIE space helmet and gloves, thus quickly leaving the TIE Defender's cockpit and leaping to the ground.

A sudden wall of screams and cheers of excitement welcomed him as he made his way to the first solid ground of a planet he'd touched in weeks. Several guards wielding strange weapons, which he remembred to be blastswords, guarded one man that was no doubt the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> perator<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> that they were briefed on as well.

"Welcome to Cartann!" the extatic leader said with palms flat out. There was a smile on his aging face that he simply could not hide at the honor of meeting the pilots. Michaels returned an equally cheerful smile.

The leader of Ghost Rider group swept the sweat from his scalp and polished his hands on the sides of his suit before actually motioning toward him. Flying in space in a hot, tight cockpit for so long would always get him quite sweaty. "You must be the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> perator<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->," the colonel said.

"Ah yes, the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> perator<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> I am. I welcome you to Cartann of Adumar."

Michaels nodded his head courteously, and let his eyes wander around the hordes of people, notcing quite a few similarities among them. For one every single person was armed, even most of the children had one form of weapon or another. The blastswords were the most common but several had side arms or pistols as well.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Better watch myself, according to the briefing these people have a bad tendency of killing their heroes.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

"It is a great honor to have one so exhaulted here," the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> perator<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> continued, as though Michaels was actually paying full attention. Another smile adorned the commander's face as his group returned near him with equally open arms. Upron their arms were the familiar Rogue Imperial Combat Seals, but they seemed oddly out of place with the strange dress of the Adumari peoples. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> I'd comment on the formal wear....but I don't want to ruin relations so quickly<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->.

"So what are we gonna' do boss?" Dieas asked as he polished his beautifully well kept pilot helm. Dieas had nearly died at the Battle of Yaga Minor, and again at the Battle of Mylock IV, which is where most pilots in the Rogue Empire earned their reputation...the "massacre of Mylock IV".

Michaels pondered his question for a moment or two. "Well, let's go get changed out of these flight suits and into our dress uniforms."

In contradiction to most militaries, the Rogue Empire had prided itself in wearing only the finest and most comfortable uniforms, yet still having a dashing elegance to it. "That is," he said again looking up at the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> perator<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, "unless you have something else planned for us?"

"No no no," the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> perator<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> said. "by all means, go get comfortable. Cartann can wait on its diplomatic beginnings."

The colonel nodded his head and spun on his heels where a female guide was already waiting for him. "Well then, let's get going," he said, and walked on pace with her toward their hotel room.