The AGM had wasted alot of time, and had decided to regroup. Their fleet around Garos IV left, their shipment uncollected. But the WMC's payment was left on a moon (OOC: If there is no moon then they left one of their bulk cruisers) The fleet was regrouped with new ships. The Commander and Grand High Poobah returned from holiday and all was put to right.

Regrad had been thinking on the way home. Little tidbits of things had been going on, but now was a time for Consolidation. Not a quartr of a year had gone by and already they were heading three planets. He felt swamped, noone was assissting him inside his own government. The fleet had decided not to go to the moon of that gass giant. Reports revealed it was no usefull gas, and the mining station was a dummy. The fleet was now moving on to a greater target, another world to add to their fledgling government.

Slowly the Fleet moved out, two Imperial class star-destroyers, two Nebulan-b2 frigates, two Corellian gunships, one MC-40a, 40 B-wings, and 42 Tie Defenders. The plan was to move further away from wildspace, and colonize a seemingly peaceful world slightly further in the galaxy. From there the nervous ripples forming from the Azguardian Council would be cooled. But Regrad was not convinced. A planet this far from the rest, almost five times as far away as any planet in their group from Azguard, this was dangerous stuff!

But he was a soldier. A soldiers' job was not to think, it was to accept orders. His ships staggered through hyperspace, and he went to rest in his quarters. It would all make sense eventually, their Commanders would not betray them, would they? Ourvix, head of the Council of elders would never let such a thing happen, he was benevolent.

But the Presence told him otherwise. The fleet moved on and he entered a wary sleep.

The Battle-group came out of hyperspace after a day, spent in nervous coughing, debates, and throwing of the ceremonial herring for good luck. The ships saw a beautiful forrest world, devoid of sentient life. Slowly, their lumbering ships approached, like giant fingers cautiously approaching soething delicate, least they damage it with carelessness. Crews left the drop-ships and workers began unloading gear. The people brough forth crates of suplies and talked among themselves happily.

More ships arrived, with more supplies and more crew. People began to build shelters. Durasteel was unloaded and melted in temporary forges poured into moulds and used to build walls and doors. Regrad helped the carpenters and wood workers cut down trees and cut them up for building purposes. More people and more boxes.

The first night was lovely, spent under new and alien stars, seeing more moons then usual, drinking to the peoples' health and music played. Regrad sat by the fire along with the crew. It is Azguardian tradition for everyone in the town or city to sit together in one great dining hall for dinner at special times, and as landing on an alien planet was special, all were together, singing old songs and eating new foods and celebrating.

Regrad joined in, but not too much. Memory of battles kept him from enjoying too much. An alien world which they were colonizing for seemingly no purpose scared Regrad, and he was unsure if it really was safe as everyone believed. Either way, his men were here, nothing would happen.

(Continued later)

It rained.

The storm had washed them thoroughly, and the people hid in their shoddy homes. The night was long and chilly, and forever the water filled it. It seeped through tiny cracks in the roofing, it filled the dirt paths turning them to mud.

Life had not been easy here, Rain was hard and the land could be harsh despite its' delicate beauty. They would wether the storm and survive, as usual, to return to the fields and the woods when the sky was clear.

Regrad was warming himself by the fire, playing a small hand-held holo game. This wasn't soldiers' work, he thought. He should e out fighting someone, doing something, not watching crops grow. But he had to follow orders, as they had been given.

Then in this relaxed night it happened. It struck. A bolt of lightning illuminated the scene: people fled screaming and in terror as a lumbering beast broke suddenly from the forest, crushing a nearby house as its' occupants fled into the bitting cold. A hairless, muscular, bipedial beast, grey in palor with a hunched figure stormed into the village.

Regrad was out the door with a blaster rifle, filling it with shots. It bled from the tiny wounds and swatted at him furiously. Regrad fired at it continuously, as his fellows joined him. The fire was intense, until the beast fell dead. Slowly the people returned in fear, its' giant lacerated body smouldering in the rain. And they knew it was over.

Regrad had to speak with the council.

"You have your orders Regrad" said a council member at the high Azguardian council

"But sir, the beast was powerful, and land orienated. We need increased millitary support to subdue them should they attack again" He exclaimed worreidly

One of the council members steepled his fingers "But your report show that you delt with the beast admirably, and the fleet could scour the planet"

"The fleet would not help sir, attacks could entice them to move. We need more troops."

Dolash, head of the council had been silent. Finally he spoke his judgment. "New supplies will be sent. Reports of the beasts will not be let out publically. Should another of the beasts attack, we will send another three units of troops. Most of our men are tied up subduing enemy territory. The Enemy has lowered its' assault, but raiders and pirates are rife in our sector. Return now and deal with any further problems."



The colony, two weeks later

Regrads' ship had gone missing after his meeting.Now the magistrate, Yolem, was in charge of the millitary. Things were rough, but improving. The crops were protected, hunting was doing well, and the towns' first holo arcade was built next to the Food store and across from the Landing Bays. People were happier now that the houses were built properly, and the Magistrate was pleased by progress.

But things happen. One hunting party was late returning one day. Apparently they had found humanoid tracks in the Woods. With worry, a party of troops was formed headed by the magistrate to see what was in there.

The magistrate once again checked the foot-prints. It was definitely alien in origin. The team of troops continued deeper into the woods, looking behind trees and searching behind bushes. Nothing had been found and the group considered turning back and trying again tomorrow.

Then the forest was full of them. Man-sized and barbaric. Large red-skinned humanoids filled the edges of the woods in droves. They were terrifying to behold, covered in war-trophies and brandishing huge spears.

The apparent chief, according to war decorations and respect, stepped forward and held a great big spear in the face of the Magistrate.

“Thing” He shouted, in gruff but passable basic.

“You be onea who kill Bothsheeba. They be killas dem” said one of the warriors, looking bitterly at the small party, who had lowered their weapons.

The chief turned to the outspoken tribesman and waved for him to calm down. He turned back to the Azguardian and shook a tribal staff. “You killa our work-beast, but we forgive you. He didn’t like outsidas, You can help us wid dem oder outsiders.”

This made sense. How else would they have learnt basic. The search party was lead away to the village. The creatures referred to themselves as Vraken. The one Kraz in the party felt worried, as they too were a warrior race, but much smaller, and in warrior races size is a lot. The group was lead through the village to the other end of the forest, where a crater, with the remains of a crashed bulk cruiser lay. Apparently, some humans had crashed, and judging by the heavt weapons and equipment had set up shop. Several newer ships were landed around, and the markings showed them to be a rogue fleet, from no particular group. Probably from some lone planet or maybe a pirate group.

Humans unloaded more equipment from ships. Using a pair of binoculars, the magistrate could see them looking at a map of the village. Things would get dicey, according to the battle-plans laying here and there. Several Vraken could be seen, being used as slave labour. It was not a pleasant sight.

The council would need to hear this, it looked like battle just might happen here, despite their peacful plans.

Yolem was in base camp with his troops. He had heard that a space battle was occuring, and the entire fleet was engaged. He would have to make do with what he had until the bulk transports were here. Loading his rifle with a clip of ammo, he and his small millitary unit joined the Vraken Tribsemen as they moved off towards the enemy transports and home base. They now stood on the same hill they had been on the other day.

Azguardians have moderately effective night-vision, and saw their enemy quiet and restful. A group of his men slipped down to the walls and planted three explosive charges, blowing the wall down. It was like poking an anthill with a giant flaming stick.

Enemy crewmen grabbed rifles and pistols and raced to the breach. A withering rain of fire la down the first line as they crested the rubble. The enemy crew stopped their advance and bunked down amongst the rubble, taking heavy fire. A turbolaser turret on the wall was manned and fired a pair of Green beams of electric death at those on the hilltop. A terrible explosion ensured. The enemy looke up in jubilation at the smoking crater where their enemies had been, only to be struck in the side from where they had relocated.

Droves of men died at the hands of vicious Vrakken spears, and they fled into their base. This battle begun, one of many needed to oust them of this world.

The enemy was trapped in their compound. They would not come out, so they were being smashed out with artillery bombardmant. They would not surrender or back down. Nothing would quiet them, and even at this range, blaster bolts andloud shouting roared from their walls, all of it fizzing out before it could hit anything.

It was a siege, so Yolem turned to the town. It was a small town compared to the ones on his home world. About fifteen thousand people lived here and few large buildings had been buillt. People listened in on all sorts of news comming in, how Regrad was free, how the council was worried, how the space battle was over, mostly heartening news. More people came aswell as shipments of supplies. But the Siege worried Yolem. It could not be much longer before support came. Without the fleet they'd b in trouble. He started preparing a special plan to destroy them Before Support Came, making it operation BSC.

The Pirates made another attempt to break the siege. It failed miserably as turbo-laser blasts reduced them to smouldering mounds. New reinforcments would come to replace them, and the fleets skirmished overhead.

Yolem's plan was unrefined and broke several conventional rules of war, which all Azguardians followed and respected to the letter. One of those moments you decided that the rules of war are fine when it seems you will win, but maybe not when an army awaits. The fuel for the turbolasers was running low now. Soon the Pirates would regain the upper hand. He had to strike.

Thirty men in three lines set up in front of the compound. They let out several rounds of explosive ammo and fell back before the enemy could draw a bead on them. But as the enemy ran towards them to root them out the Vrakken jumped them from the woods, making an over-brutal display of tearing the poor men to small pieces. They took their time about it, as the humans fought feebly to stop them. Yolem nearly vomited, but it had to be done.

The men still behind the walls paniced, and as panicked men do, they called their friends over to show them how paniky it was. It left a whole wall un-guarded, and a shell from Azguard ground-emplacements blew away the wall on the fortresse. The pirates fled screaming bloodily as rattling machine-gun emplacements tore them down on the walltops.

Then the Vrakken, with the aid of afew Kraz demolition teams, blew off the remaining wall-top defence and shinnyed up the wall to join the attack force. Soon the pirates were in full retreat. Now victory was at hand the Azguards upped the fire-rate. The survivors fled into their ships and were away. The Planet was theirs, and on this day they named it, Hephastus.

The two peoples of Hephastus, the Azguardians and the Vrakken, now started working out the details of their co-existance. The Azguardians were to live in the mountains and plains, and the Vrakken would stay in their woods. Technology and trading went on on both sides, and the Vrakken language of loud shrieks and scrawks was learnt by many Azguardians, and it was good.

(Not done yet, will add more later)

Regrad was lost reports indicated. The last transmission that was recieved over two weeks ago said his engine was working and he was coming home. But now he was lost and Yolem was still in command.

This was unfortunate, to say the least, because Yolem was good, maybe we would go as far to say great, at baby-sitting a colony for someone, if they had to go to war or travel somewhere.

Now Yolem was making risky decisions, ones which could not be reversed. Racial prejudiced between the Vrakken and the Azguardians were on the rise, they both had different philosophies and lifestyleswhich conflicted greatly. He was doing everything he could to improve the situation.

Then it finally happened. One day he was reading a report on his desk about trying to organize a group sing-along on Bayford street, the next he was reading an emergency report on a firefight between Vrakken and Azguard troops and civilians. Noone who survived knows how it started, but by the end seven Vrakken and six Azguards were dead. He called the council.

After explaining his situation...

"So your mighty sirs, I need to know what you advise for this difficult situation"

The council members disscussed it in hushed tones. After awhile Dolash, head of the council rose up and said.

"Kill them. Kill them all."

-----------------------------------------------------------

Yolem had not believed his orders at first, but the council was unanimous, and when hey were even Ourvix, the king, could do nothing. He had to obey orders. The Vrakken had to go.

Upon the declaration of war, the Vrakken tribes grouped into the C.O.V.E.T. or Confederation Of Vrakken Emergent Tribes. The Azguard millitary and the Covet forces skirmished for some times, until Yolem and his Captains came up with an attack plan.

The Azguard millitary foot brigade, ten At-At walkers, assorted millitary tanks and weapons, and Azguard space forces worked for a combinned attack against the Jungle swamps. The plan was perfect, and Yolem stepped from his tent to join his men. There they were, in little formations, prepared to charge. The images of what the Vrakken did to those Pirates made him shudder, but he had Orders.

"Aaaad-vance!" and they did. The army ran up to the jungles, the At-Ats burning giant holes in the woods and forcing the Vrakken to flee forwards towards them and into the waiting arms of the trap. Men charged towards them, guns blazed. Yolem charged with them, but lifted a comm link to his mouth and said into the link to the council:

"We have them, they shall surrender soon, once they have i'll-"
"You will accept no surrender, commander." said Dolash. "You will slaughter them all. They rose their fists towards the empire, now they must die."

Yolem stopped. So we were an empire now, were we? This was insane, it lost all purpose. He roared across the battlefield "Cease-Fire!" and, to his surprise, they did, looking surprised at him.

"We shall join Covet. Slaughter for slaughters' sake is not the Way. Leaving our home has corrupted many, including the council. We shall fight to bring back sanity to our union of worlds." He extended the hand of friendship to the head Vrakken shief, he had met before the pirates. They shook, and the Revoloution was on.

The revoloution was blamed. It was blamed for the councils' death, it was blamed for the slowness of recent transports of goods, it was blamed for the young men being sent to war in order to quell them. They were practically blamed for milk going sour and crops dying out. They were treated like some blemish of darkness upon an otherwise perfect empire.

They hated that word, empire. It symbolizes everything wrong with the Azguardian government. The Azguardian way of life, set down by the very gods themselves, was contradictory to their little empire. To a true Azguardian, Life is a time of peace, harmony, and joy, like a huge and never ending weekend, spreading forward like a wave. They had no poverty, for there was no money in their world. They had no starvation, for people mearly recieved food when they needed it. They had no disease, for when the gods came, they looked at every life-form on the world and destroyed those harmful and dangerous.

But now they went to space, and people drifted away from each other. The council had been corrupted when they first tasted the one thing they had never dreamed of. Power. And now they were dead and only the most vile and corrupt one of all, Dolash, was in command. Yolem knew they had to do something, but their revoloution was hopeless. There was nowhere they could go, all they had was a pair of bulk cruisers.

But he would try. All the Vrakken, Kraz, and Azguards fit to fight and armed, were loaded into the huge transports, along with Ten At-At walkers. They headed into the jungle to await their enemies.

But Yolem reminded himself that they were not enemies. Dolash and the top men were. He had all weapons set to stun, the ones they would face were not so friendly, but he wanted to make sure as little blood as possible was spilt today.

The Azguardians landed, the Azguardians charged. The fate of the AGM was to be decided.

Stun bolts, blue in color, raced in waves across the field between the landing craft and the Loyalist troops. Their dwindling forces fled en mass from their landing zones, incapable of resisting their fellows. Soon they fired back. Lances of crimson energy blew huge, dark, and thouroughly smoking craters along the lines.

But the Revoloutionaries had the upper hand. Soon the remaining loyalists, trapped behind their ships, flew a white flag over their cover.

Yolem saw it, and called for his men to cease fire. The last few blue beams ricoched from the side of the loyalist cover, and then an emmasary was sent to speak to them.

They were frigtened. This was not their war, this was not A War. The loyalists defected for the most part, those who didn't were disarmed and sent back home. But Yolem felt it was in vain. More landing craft were coming, landing in different zones across the world. The fighting was quick in some places, long in others, but in the end all Revoloutionaries fell back. And so the Loyalists had a hold. It would grow.