“Nubia? Good choice,” Major Paullman said, quickly glancing over the rest of the datapad and then handing it back to Ming. “I see it’s not too far from Arkanisis. Are you planning to stage the attack from Demelethon?”

“It’s a possibility,” Ming replied. “Certainly, a build up of ships in the Arkanisis system wouldn’t draw much attention. It’s close enough to Coruscant and the rest of the Core worlds that the flotilla could just be attributed to basic homeland defence.”

“Don’t want to arouse any suspicions, do you,” Paullman chuckled, and took a sip from his mug of caf. He sat at the table in Ming’s private quarters on Coruscant, the General next to him, and an endless expanse of cityscape visible through the window off to his left.

Ming didn’t look out the window like Paullman did. It wasn’t that the view bored him; he hardly ever stayed on Coruscant, far preferring his relaxing homeworld of Syvn or the strict rigidity that was Carida, home to the Imperial Academy. The view from his Coruscanti apartment instilled in him the memory of how he used to hate flying, however far over that fear he now was. Something about it brought back the memories, and he didn’t like it.

“So I see you’ve been relaxing in your time off,” Paullman said, attempting to spark the conversation back into life. Ming was dressed in casual civilian clothes while Paullman, freshly arrived off a shuttle from Carida, was still militarily attired.

“Hah, yes. Relaxing,” Ming said, a faint smile gripping the edges of his lined mouth.

“Yeah, you know. Going over old battles, planning new ones, extending the Empire’s might to reach a thousand worlds.” Paullman tapped the Nubian datapad. “Relaxing.”

“Very,” Ming said. He sat up straighter in his chair, and took a thoughtful tug on his caf. “I’ve been analysing the battle of Mon Calimari. In my spare time, of course.”

“Of course. And what have you found out.”

“A lot less than I had hoped.” Ming sighed. He got up from the table, walked over to a low couch set into a depression in the apartments floor, and seated himself. Paullman joined him.

“So what do you know?”

“The rebel commander was a fool, that much is certain.” Ming said immediately, as if that fact was the most obvious one in the galaxy. “If we had been up against a real commander, someone who knew what he was doing... I don’t like to think about it, but there’s a chance we wouldn’t have made it. The sheer numbers... well, we had the Shrouds, of course, and Admiral Lebron. But that battle could so easily have ended in failure.”

“Don’t talk to me about stuff like that,” Paullman said, when he was sure Ming was done. “Give me a nice land-based conflict. I’ve got some troops, he’s got some troops, the air support is on the other side of the galaxy and the weather forecast is sun for the next week. That’s enough to make me happy. You and your fleets...” Paullman scoffed. “You know, I remember when you used to throw up in zero-g! Who would’ve guessed you’d be commanding fleet battles one day.”

Ming smiled at the memory, then said, “You’re trying to change the subject. You don’t want to sit here all day analysing old battles, do you?”

“Of course not. I haven’t seen you in over six months; I want to go drinking!”

“Oh yes; two drunk, fifty-year old, high ranking Imperial officers livening up the Coruscanti nightlife. What fun!” Ming laughed, again. “I’m sure IHC would just love that.”

“Hey, I’m not fifty!”

“It was a generalisation.”

“Well, in that case...”

After a few more minutes of joking, however, Ming tried to steer the conversation back onto its previous track.

“Anyway, about Mon Cal...” he ventured, when both he and Paullman had replaced their caf with Corellian whisky.

“Oh, come off it,” Paullman said, lounging back in the couch as outside the sun began to set behind the cityscape.

“No, I want to talk about this,” Ming insisted. “After the battle, when we were flying out of the system back to the rendezvous, I was wondering how different that battle would have been if there was a Jedi commanding their fleet.”

“A Jedi?” Paullman asked, startled by the question. “What, you mean like lightning-out-of-the-fingertips, control-people-with-their-minds type?”

“Yeah, something along those lines,” Ming said, absent-mindedly swirling the contents of his glass.

“Have you ever fought one?” he asked abruptly.

“What, fought a Jedi? Are you kidding, I’d get wasted! They’ve got those light-swords that’ll-”

“No,” Ming cut him off, “I mean fought against a Jedi commander.”

“What, no. Even without the fancy sword, they’ve still got those mind-control powers. They’d decimate me!”

“Yes, they probably would...”

There was silence for a moment, then Paullman spoke. “So, why did you ask?”

“What? Oh... I was just wondering about it, that’s all. What it would be like to fight against someone with that kind of power...”

“Impossible,” Paullman said, simply. Then, “You’re thinking about those Sith, aren’t you.”

It wasn’t a question. Paullman and Ming were childhood friends. They’d gone to the Academy together, entered through the military together. When Ming kept getting promoted and Paullman was left behind at the rank of Captain, they’d still remained friends. They had fought together, and grown up together. They knew each other well.

Ming didn’t bother trying to deny it. “They’re becoming more and more influential within the command structure. That Darksword one, the ‘Governor’, did you know he’s the Hapan Prince’s brother?”

“Yes,” said Paullman. “It’s not really much of a secret.”

“Yes, but I mean... a royal Sith Governor? One whose power-hungry, ruthless, and, well, Sith.”

“You’re scared of him?” Paullman asked, leaning forward slightly in his seat.

“No. More of what he and his... kind could do to the Empire, if they got out of control.” Ming sighed. “I don’t trust them.”

“Neither do I. But the Regent does, or else he wouldn’t let them have so much power.”

“Oh, no one can guess what the Regent thinks. I’ll grant you, Hyfe is a genius; one of the greatest leaders we’ve ever had. But I still think it’s a risk letting them get so comfortable with power.”

Ming got up, and walked over to the decanter that sat on the table. Slowly, he pulled out the stopper and filled his glass. Corellian whisky... hah!

“This is why you asked about fighting Jedi, yes?” Paullman had come up behind him, and now took the decanter from Ming and filled his own glass. He placed it back on the table, and Ming put the stopper in. “You’ve heard rumours of a revolt from the Sith, and you’re worried about having to fight them?”

“No, no,” Ming smiled, gratefully. “No, there aren’t any rumours going around about the Sith revolting. It’s just my own fears...” His eyes trailed to the datapad sitting next to the decanter. He smiled, and picked it up. “Come on, I want to talk to you about Nubia...”

Unidentified proving grounds, Xa Fel, Corellian Protectorate space.

The ships seemed to glide in the shadows of space, their small swarming forms hidden against bridging expanse that was blackness. Their formation was perfect down to the smallest detail, the craft jinking and adjusting as one. Suddenly laserlight arched out stretching like the divine fingers of god towards an unidentified target, each craft firing in perfect timing sending the lasers like waves against a shore.

The craft were 1000’s years old, but they moved with a precision that belayed their age. Many eyes watched, transfixed by the cosmic ballet that was taking place. The fleet was perfect. It was almost as if they had a single commander.

But that, of course, is impossible.







"Perfect. The ships engaged at exactly the same moment.

The ring of firepower that was created was... Startling."

The analysts listened as one of their peers droned one, extolling the virtues of assault. As he spoke, Lupercus saw a slight glance to the left.

He's lying.

The Sith did not react, his brain cataloguing the fact that the analyst had switched brain hemispheres from analysis to creativity. The jumps were hard to spot, but Lupercus had all the time in the world to spot... anything.

His brain fell in and out of interest, his eyes eventually drooping until they closed. Reaching out through the force he felt for the crews of the SBCs, they were flagging now, exhaustion easily apparent to the Sith as they struggled to move the ancient ships into their proper jump trajectories. Somewhere in the distance beneath him Lupercus could feel Xa Fel like a dull thud, echoing in the back of his mind as he concentrated on his men.

Mentally yawning, he tensed his mind, flexing the mind net across the men, their efforts redoubling as the Sith enhanced them beyond mortal capacity.

Elsewhere around the orbital platform Lupercus could feel other Sith, Silus and Zeta among them. They too meditated, focusing intently on their own task in the operation. All was coming together perfectly as the Sith and their ships coordinated seamlessly.

Nubia won't even stand a chance...









The debreifing wound down quickly once Lupercus lost interest, his aides quickly scurrying away in haste, whether to avoid their Lords wraith or to complete their assigned tasks was irrelevant. At last check, Imperial Analysts said that the efficiency of the Corellian Governors Office had increased threefold as a direct result of Governor Darkswords ‘fear’ initiative.

In fact Lupercus was simply indulging his whims, but that had brought the beaurocrats into line rapidly, the senseless violence seeming to counteract the pencil pushers typically ‘logical’ behaviour. Eventually struggling out of his opulent chair the Hapan moved towards his holo-terminal, its faint blue glow casting a dull light around the room.

“Open ‘Operation: Seething Masses’ data-file 32DE89c.”

Instantly an image of Captain Iommi of the 3rd Auxillary Strike Line appeared, his long dark hair tapering away underneath his Officers cap. In the background a recording started playing, although it was evident that it was not a recent copy. The recording detailed training techniques used by Darth Sidious to teach Darth Vader the subtle nuances of the ‘mind mesh’, a ‘trick’ whereby a Sith links the minds of crews together, intilling in them the greater purpose of the Empire and the Emperor, making Imperial Forces fight to top efficiency.

“… other evident supports this fact, including the decisive and almost immediate collapse of the Imperial Navy on Endor following the death of Emperor Palpatine and Darth Vader. Imperial Intelligence files contain information on over 3 trillion cases of ‘Lost Emperor’ Syndrome, a sickness whereby people under the mindmeld for too long feel a dependence on their ‘controller’ and go into withdrawls similar to that experienced by spice addicts undergoing ‘cold turkey’ treatment. With the sudden death of the emperor, over 3 million deaths were linked to Lost Emperor Syndrome. Cynics suggest the cohesive Rebel strike was more than enough to cause the disruption, although this is largely treated with contempt by most academics in the…”

Lupercus smiled as his head drifted back to the world where he ruled. Smiling, he could already see the operation in motion.

And from that, many many others would begin. And then it would all be over…


Generals gathered in their masses...
Just like witches at black masses.

Malice sat there in a dark portion of the room. More so away from the others so as not to get distracted. His mind diving into the darkside. His senses leeching out, connecting with the minds of those that would soon fight. Bringing them together.

Though Malice would have rather chosen to be in the frontlines, this too would prove just as fun. Pulling the troopers all togther in a state of one mindedness, just the thought was enough to make you laugh. But the sith master knew he would still get to taste battle once everything was underway.

Halting his aide in the mind messhing, Malice sent a message via the force to Lupercus.

(Tell me Lupercus, how close are we to utter chaos and destruction. The anticipation is almost impossible to bare for much longer)

Malice wanted bloodshed. He needed bloodshed. Hell, his name wasn't Malice for nothing. And he did not gain the nickname "bringer of chaos" by just sitting around. Still though he would do his part in this for however long he could stand it before joining the fight.

So once more the demonic sith continued to concentrate. Letting his mind meld with those of the troopers, and the pilots. Making them think as one, breathe as one, and fight as one.

TTT

(OOC: Whoops, my bad!)

Lupercus smiled broadly as he felt Malice contact him. The Siths bloodthirst knew no bounds, and for that the Hapan silently thanked the Darkside. Lupercus knew Malice would be welcomed back to the Order, at least moreso than perhaps Maim would have.

Soon Brother.

It takes a semblance of order to truly bring chaos.

Still smirking, Lupercus reached out again, touching the minds of his Sith as they worked.

Excellent. That has been the best test run through yet.

Hence, i can't be bothered any more. Congratulations, Nubia is as good as ours. And from there, the traitor Sith and the Rebels will stand no chance...

Having dismissed the Sith Lupercus picked himself up and ordered his craft to descend back to Xa Fel.

Another day had passed, and the night of the Sith had begun once again.

Any who disturbed him, made any noise would be killed. He would not let his concentration be broken, or even slightly disturbed. That could be the difference between victory and defeat.

He focused deeply in the darkside, connecting each mind, making them as one. Many minds became few, few became one. And they performed with perfection.

Beads of sweat rolled down his face as he focused. His eyes closed, he sat in the pitch-black room. It was quiet, quiet enough to hear the proverbial pin drop.

His eyes slowly opened as the test run ended. He let out a deep breath, just resting there. He didn't pay attention to anything being said, he knew his work was a success. Silus stood up slowly, stretching his arms. He exited the room, leaving to rest for the day. He was annoyed at his master, his training should have begun already. He continued down the hallways.

He didn't even notice the man next to him, who had been talking for quite some time about the tests success. The man was droning on about his eagerness for the upcoming battle. He had obviously attempted at making some sort of joke, as he had chuckled and smiled at Silus.

Silus smiled at the thought of ripping his head off.

One day later

Again he repeated the process, melding each mind into one. Again beads of sweat began to roll down his forhead. Many minds became few, few became one.

Nubia is ours...

The next day, surface of Xa Fel.

"Governor, sir? You have a message?"

The womans voice was extremely pleasent, which caused Lupercus to force down the urge to strangle her, every time she spoke. He nodded, mentally usuring her into the room.

"What?"

She smiled automatically before she spoke. As a woman assistant under a male beaurocrat it was a kneejerk reaction to be willing at all times to help her boss. Sex was simply another tool to climbing the ladder.

"You received a number today. One is a message from Redentor Enterprises regarding your personal correspondance. They wish to relate their belief that the deal will be satisfactory. And then theres one from a grassroots pol..."

He zoned out now, his earlier preoccupation with sex having kept it in his mind. He looked the secretary up and down now. She was attractive, her brown hair well tended and her makeup impecible. Lupercus could easily see she had reached this position in a dirty manner. And Lupercus never took sloppy seconds.

Well, not usually.

He dazed for a few minutes before his attention was dragged back to reality.

"And the final message is just received, a telegram from High Command. The current operation is being amalgamated with that of General Ming.

The two operations are to run concurrently, with the same resources..."

WHAT???

The voice was a ocean of anger, but the womans composure didn't flinch.

"A contact number has been left. And there was another message from Redentor Enterprises also. It was empty, but the message heading was:

RE: Public listing of Redentor Enterprises, Nubia division.

And that was it..."

He smiled, meeting her eyes as he dismissed her. There was a hunger in her eyes. Ambition. Pure drive and determination flashed like a lighthouse. She would be perfect.

"Wait there kitten.

See if you can organise a meeting with General Ming. And bring me his dossier, highest secrecy classification."

She turned provactively, thinking her charms were working. Lupercus was happy to let her think that.

"Of course, Sir."

The last word rolled off her tongue, oozing with seduction. He sensed she was close to doing something about it when he took control of her mind, focusing her on his tasks.

Yup, this should be very interesting...

“He’s what?!” Paullman exclaimed, his neck stretching as his head jolted forward in surprise. He stood in the briefing room of the ISD Champion, an Imperial Intelligence agent who had introduced himself only as Jin sitting in a low-backed leather chair across the table from him.

“Planning an attack on Nubia,” Jin said, for the second time. He clasped his hands in his lap and stretched back in the chair.

“And why the hell are you telling me this?” Paullman asked, rounding the table to stand over Jin.

“As a favour; a heads-up. It’s possible that Ming already knows - being a unit of the IHC has its perks - but I thought it would be nice for him to know that I’m still covering things from my end.” Jin then got up, and made to leave.

“Wait a minute,” Paullman stepped forward quickly, grabbing Jin’s arm and bringing the intelligence man around to face him. Jin stiffened. He took a step back, and Paullman released his arm. “So you’re telling me that you came half-way across the galaxy to give me a message to give to the General - a message that he probably already knows - and now you’re just leaving?”

“It’s quite a large favour, Major. And I really don’t have the time to explain further.”

Jin began to turn and Paullman stepped forward, as if to stop him again. Jin took the pre-emptive action, halting in mid-stride.

“I suggest you do not touch me again, Major,” he said, his voice casual, but the look in his eyes warning Paullman off. Jin turned, and left.



**



>>Incoming message


Ming tapped the button at his side, bringing up the holographic dialogue box. From a hidden speaker mounted near his head, the message played.

“To: General Chau Ming, Coruscant. From: the office of His Excellency Lupercus Darksword, Corellia.

Subject: Operation KTX

Classification: for the viewing of General Ming only...”


“General Chau Ming, Imperial Armed Forces,” Ming spoke his access into the microphone, and the message continued. He knew already why Darksword was contacting him, and only needed to listen to the message with half an ear.


“The Governor wishes to extend his greetings to you, as he...”


It was interesting to listen to the wording used. Ming doubted this was the way Darksword wished to communicate, but while using official channels there wasn’t much other way to work. Although the message was for Ming’s eyes only, it would doubtless be viewed by at least a dozen other people by the end of the day.

Is he watching me, even now?

Ming was glad for Jin’s warning, although he had already been informed of the amalgamation - and he hadn’t liked it one bit. He doubted Darksword was in favour, either. Although he didn’t know for sure.

The message reeled on, dictating what Ming already knew.

He had taken measures, as soon as he found out what was going on, to ensure that his operation would not be compromised. He had tried to fight the amalgamation initially, but IHC were adamant; they wanted more co-operation between the separate divisions of the Empire, and they were stretched for resources as it was.

As well as that, there would have been conflict between them anyway. Ming could not be seen to stand down. Darksword would not stand down. In the end he just had to accept it.

The message finished, and Ming noted the date/time stamp. He did a quick mental arithmeticto change into Coruscanti time, and found it to have only been composed ten minutes previously. Darksword would probably still be in his office.

“Hess, send Bellinx and Kelltrinx up to my quarters, please,” Ming said, speaking to his presonal assistant via the comm. “And open a transmission to Governor Darksword of Corellia, priority three.”

Lupercus' day couldn't have gone better. Well, it could have, but something like that is damn unlikely. It had started normally, the Sith rising early to spar with his apprentice in the dawn sun. It had been a brisk battle, Silus coming close a number of times to besting the Sith Lord. Lupercus wouldn't mentioned it, but he was proud that the man had come a long way. Following that he had meditated, a growing sense of purpose filling the Hapan over the Nubia operation, which was further enhanced by his receipt of a small message.

Nubian assets 1 are completed. Siege assets have been negotiated and agreed upon. Trashcans are no longer necessary.

Cryptic, yes, but that was his way.

Now though his relative contentedness had been challenged by the fact that he was still forced to 'share' this operation with General Ming. The persona itself wasn't a problem, Lupercus had heard of many of his exploits, but rather the sharing was.

It took half an hour for Lupercus to reach his office from the sprawling Governors residence having changed and showered quickly. As he arrived he was greeted almost immediately by his secretary scampering into his office to report an incoming encoded transmission, direct from Coruscant. It was immediately patched through.

"General Ming."

Lupercus nodded curtly in recognitian.

"I believe we have mutual interests. It seems we must now work together to accomplish them."

“Indeed, Governor,” Ming replied, placing his hands on the large, but sparsely decorated, desk that stood alongside one wall of his Coruscant office. A holoprojector embedded in the polished wood shone the image of the Governor onto the space in front of the desk, his feet seeming to rest on the Imperial-grey carpet that lined the floor, that same colour reflected in the walls and ceiling, but with bold black borders and a modest Imperial crest serving to break the monotony.

He noted that Darksword had dispensed with all pretence of formal niceties, and had got straight to the point, as it were. The Governor obviously realised the futility of seriously arguing against the will of the IHC, and prepared to make the most of the situation. He is smart, certainly. He wouldn’t have gotten this far into the command structure without being so. Perhaps it will not be too hard to consolidate our plans for conquest...

Then again, the sith were known for being master manipulators. Perhaps Darksword was simply trying to put Ming at ease, working him to gain his trust, so as to take more control of the mission for himself. Darksword could be laying a trap. Or perhaps...

Damn, Ming thought, mentally berating himself for letting his thoughts get off track. Stop thinking up conspiracy theories based on the first dozen words Darksword has said, and get on with the meeting. You can analyse the recordings later.

Ming took a breath, putting his hand under the desk as he addressed Darksword. “Since you want to get straight to the point I am transmitting to you all preliminary plans that have been drawn up for the operation so far.” Ming tapped a button on his desk with his right hand, while with his left stroking the reassuring ysalimir Bellinx, resting on a nutrient frame next to his leg. “I will of course require your plans, so as to better organise the operation.”

Lupercus watched Ming quietly as he spoke attempting to gauge his abilities. Although the force was useless over such a long distance, the Hapan had grown up close to the Hapan courts intreiges and as such was a master of body langauge.

After the General finished speaking Lupercus paused for a moment watching him, as if still trying to make up his mind about something. Smile still on his face he eventually continued.

"Of course. I shall have them transmited immediately."

Off to the Siths left stood the commander of the Diktats Navy, Admiral Danetta Pitta, who gave a curt nod and proceded to follow the order.

Finally focusing again on Ming, Darkswords smile grew noticably bigger.

"I'm sure i don't have to remind you that this mission allows both our groups to explore some interesting possibilities..."