[FONT=Arial][Note: This thread is a takeover of Nam Chorios, Durren, Centares, and Nim Drovis. It takes place synonomously with the Shadow of the Empire thread.][/FONT]



Nam Chorios, Meridian Sector

They carried on. Not because they didn't care or because they were forced to, but because there was was nothing left to do; just carry on. The thick crimson flames arose over the city on all sides as the citizens carried on about there daily business like nothing was wrong. Some of them had resorted to the extra safety precaution of wearing a bacta mask but deep down inside they knew that it was a hopeless plight. The plague had ravaged much of the city's business section and was now spreading out into the suburbs and the poor areas that had for years been neglected and run down. Many of them had become accustomed to the thick smoke that clouded out the warm sun that had once shown down on the city like a beacon. Even more had become accustomed to the thick smog-like air filled with toxins that had for months left a foul taste in there mouth.

The business districts had become a ghost town. Towering superstructures that once stood over a never ending flow of traffic and crowded streets now stood as monolithic gravestones for the thousands of corpses that rotted in the city streets below. The plague had struck so rapidly that the Daysong Guard had little time to prepare. Indeed, the plague itself was strangely reminiscent to the Death Seed virus that had plagued the sector what seemed like hundreds of human years prior.

Prime Minister Talon Feydar allowed a small devious grin to penitrate the half-mask that he wore over the right side of his human face. He stood in silence for a moment, overlooking the orderly chaos of the city streets below. His heart raced with excitement, not because his life was in danger or because he had become sudenly and violently ill like the rest of his people. No. He was immune. Immune to the Death Seed virus that he himself had cast out upon his people. And he had gotten away with it. His plan had succeeded. Prime Minister Feydar's name would go down in history as the savior of the Meridian Sector and quite possibly the savior of the entire galaxy.

He looked down briefly at the small vial of thick blue liquid that he delicately fingered in his palm. The cure. The immunization that could save hundreds of thousands, if not millions of lives over the next few days. As the grin faded from his face, he carefully slipped the vial back into his pocket.

"Sir?"

The Prime Minister turned and shook his head sadly as he put on his act. "How tragic.... how... how could this happen? And under my watch."

"Prime Minister Feydar, you had no way of knowing that this would happen. You had no way of knowing that those terrorists would be so brutal."

"What news do you have Allen? Tell me you have something."

"I have bad news and I have worse news."

The Prime Minister nodded his head.

"The bad news is that our scientists have confirmed that the virus is indeed the Death Seed virus of the past. The worse news is that it has been geneticly enhanced to attack the immune system immediately so that the body does not have enough time to build up the blood cells needed to fight off the virus. Once inflicted, the virus attacks immediately. It does not undergo an incubation peroid and it is relentless. The victim usually becomes severely afflicted immediately, and dies within 48 hours. If they are lucky, within the standard 24."

Talon turned to hide the sadistic grin on his face. He reached down and retracted a single tissue from his desk and dabbed his eye.

"How tragic.... Keep me informed Allen. I only pray to the force that our scientists can come up with a cure soon before the entire planet succumbs to it's devistating power."

"Yes Prime Minister." Allen bowed and strode briskly out of the room.

The Underground, Base of Operations

"Government sources speculate that the virus is in fact the Death Seed virus which nearly destroyed the Meridian sector generations ago. The Central Council suspects that The Underground, a terrorist organization headed by the nefarious Nerius Dresh is responsible for the release of the enhanced virus. The older virus was released by an insect known as a droch and could only be aquired by a bite. The engineered version fo the virus seems to spread through ingestion and is known to be airborn allowing it to spread more rapidly. The Death Seed 2 virus has already afflicted and killed more than three million victims planet wide since it's release over a week ago. Chief invest..."

Click...

The screen went dark as Nerius turned in his seat.

"So it begins..."

Claymore-class Battlecruiser Circadian, Roche Asteroid Belt

The fleet looked more like a rag-tag collection of pirate ships than a Coalition warfleet. Starships so outdated that they made the long decommissioned CIS warships of the Clone Wars look like modern Executor-class Super Star Destroyers. Still, the remarkable Captain that had been choosen to lead the rag-tag fleet had done everything in his power to make the ships as fully armed and operational as any other warfleet in the galaxy. Only two galactic weeks prior, he had ordered the deconstruction of several of the undermanned, and undergunned warships so that the materials salvaged from the warships could be used to upgrade the few warships that were worth saving.

Indeed, the only warship present that could withstand any kind of military confrontation for mroe than five minutes was the Circadian, the flagship of a vast new military unit that Julius had opted to build from scratch. The war against the Black Dragon Empire, and the brewing border conflicts and standoffs throughout Coalition space had left the superpower with no choice but to utilize everything it had available. Even small civilian freighters were converted into troop transports and landing shuttles. His fleet, the newest in commission, was no exception.

On board the Circadian, Julius made every effort to make his quarters habitable. a holographic display of ancient artwork filled every corner of his Captain's quarters and the soft classical sounds of ancient music from throughout the galaxy were always playing softly in the distance. His silver plated female personae protocal droid kept the quarters in obsessive order with everything neatly placed and looked after. Even the slightest speck of dust or imperfection was cause for alarm. Julius' quarters were often used as a stately conference hall than an actual sleeping quarters, and he had one day vowed to aquire an art collection that would rival that of even Grand Admiral Mitth'raw'nuruodo of the Chiss.

The Command Bridge of the immense warship was no exception to the obsessive order that Julius followed. The ship was run on a tight and thorough schedule. Though nothing more than an inexprienced officer, Julius excelled at everything his superiors could throw at him. He also liked to pride himself on the sence of 'Order Over Chaos' unwritten rules that he followed closely on his warships. It was no secret by now that Julius ran the most run down warfleet in the entire galaxy, but he ran it tightly and with an iron fist. He took pride in his command, and pride in the Circadian, his flagship and the only brand new vessel he would ever be granted so long as the persistance of war loomed for the Coalition.

Each week at random, a small patrol would conduct random "Perfection Selections" as the crew called them aboard the ship; inspections of junior officers quarters to ensure that they were in tidy and perfect working order. Neat and well maintained living conditions could keep an officer from scrubbing the mess hall tables and floors with a small scrub brush no larger than a humans finger and the officers and cadets aboard the Circadian and other vessels kept to Julius' orders with strict adhearance. In such a worn down fleet, the slightest infraction on the working order of the fleet could mean the deaths of hundreds of men and women. Some considered is obsessive nature psychotic and unnecessary while others looked at it as a means of survival in the turbulent times that would rise in the future. War was imminent. would Julius lead them to a triumphant victory, or an untimely death? Only time would tell.

Perhaps one of those turbulent times was rapidly approaching. Distress signals on an ancient New Republic frequency no longer used by the galaxy had been detected aboard the older warships that were being decommissioned. A distress signal very faint and not far away from the fleet's current position in the Roche Asteroid Belt. Only a select few officers were aware. Distress signals were an every day thing what with the pirate attacks and border disputes that seemed to plague the galaxy these days, but this one was different. Strangely and uniquely different. Why? Because it had already happened.

"Death Seed.... Death seed...." Julius pondered as he delicately fingered his bottom lip in thought. The virus itself was not unknown to him. During his time at the Carida Naval Academy, his professors had used the Death Seed virus as a means of teaching the effects of biological warfare on the galaxy, and the tolls that it could take. In more recent history, the Wraith Virus would devistate the galaxy on a much larger scale, and the smaller, more secluded Death Seed virus would be forgotten in the shuffle of history. Flicking his fingers over his comlink, he listened to the distress signal once more.

Snap.... Crack... "Ner..." Crack Snap... fizzzz.... "...derground. The Meridian Sector is rap..." fizzle, snap "succumbing to the Death Seed Virus. Req..." fizzle snap crack "...istance from anyone. Repeat, request immediate assistance."

He had to find a way off of the Circadian without notice of his absence...

The SoroSuub freighter exited hyperspace at the rear of the Galactic Coalition line that had formed up in the Roche System. This medium sized transport slowly moved accelerated towards the Coalition ships, but had on it no identifiable marking.

"Coalition ships, this is the freighter StarRider. We were requested here on behalf of Captain Octavian. Permission to land on the Circadian is requested."

While waiting to be granted landing clearance, the ship moved through space and passed what seemed to be a space station under construction. Closing in the Coalition formation of ships, the Captain onboard the freighter was surprised to see many aging vessels that belonged to the Galactic Coalition's Naval Forces. Many of these ships should have been scrapped years ago and looked as if they couldn't survive more than a few moments of intense combat. It couldn't possibly be that the Coalition was this stretched thin.

These thoughts were interrupted when a message broadcast through the communication system. Circadian had allowed them to land and so the freighter turned towards that very Claymore Class Battlecruiser. This was the only naval ship out of the rest that looked to be fit for actually combat.

Once on deck, the freighter's hatch eased open and two gray combat droids descended down in none threatening manners. They proceeded to stand at the sides of the hatch and monitor the room while behind them a lone man in a black suit stepped down.

Claymore-class Battlecruiser Circadian

"Sir?"

Julius nodded.

"President Stellar has arrived, as requested."

Julius nodded again and waved a dismissive hand. Only moments sooner, another shuttle had arrived carrying with it a few supplies needed for the mission that were not available within the fleet, compliments of the Confederacy. The Y-4 Raptor, Julius was exhilerated to learn, was not only fully operational, but came with a full compliment along with the resources he had requested from his old friend Commadore Corise Lucerne.

In the docking bay moments before Rob Stellar's arrival, forty Praetorian Guards filed out of the shuttle in perfect synchronization. They almost looked more like toy soldiers in there formal blue uniforms with thick mohawks of black feathers down each side. Billowing behind each of them were the long ceremonial robes and cape that adorned the mandalorian uniform. Large assault rifles were neatly kept holstered around there midsection and rested on there back.

The mission itself was top secret. Though knowledge of Rob Stellar's arrival was obvious throughout the fleet, many believed that he was simply present to make a business deal to complete the construction of the Space Station. The shuttle that had arrived before his was rumored to be a weapons cashe sent from Commadore Corise Lucerne to make up for those troops that lacked adequate weapons and ammunition.

Following the clearing of the docking bay, Julius used the Praetorian Guard as a means of diplomatic impression. Rolling out a small red carpet as Rob Stellar's shuttle carefully touched down in the docking bay, the rug was lined with neatly aligned Praetorian Guards. So perfectly were they aligned, in fact, that they almost looked like monolithic statues that had been in place for centuries. Julius carefully placed his hands behind his back in a parade-rest position and waited at the end of the carpet. Flanked on either side was a small collection of officers trusted enough with the knowledge of the true mission that Rob Stellar was here to complete. As the Presidents ramp droped and he strode briskly forward, Julius took a single step forward and exdended his left hand.

"President Stellar, Welcome aboard the Circadian."

Rob looked at this before him and was a little surprised. He never really liked royal or special ceremonies like these. Sure he was flattered, but he was only an ordinary man, nothing more nothing less. He was not a king nor was he a leader of a people. It just seemed somewhat weird to him that the Captain went through all this just for him.

Descending down the ramp Rob smiled at Julius. "Captain Octavian, it is an honor to be on your fine ship. This reception is too much though. I do not deserve such high honor. It is beautiful though."

Rob bowed his head a little at the Captain and looked around, his eyes trailing over each of the guards. Finally once again his eyes rested on the Captain's. "How may I be of service to you Captain?"

Perfect. Julius thought. It worked.

The unexpected arrival of both shuttles at the same time had created a narrow path of time to hide the truth of the presence of each. The arrival of the Praetorian Guard he had summoned had been late, something he would have to check into later. For now, the ploy had worked. He had fooled Rob Stellar into thinking that the entire ceremony was for him, and that was good enough for Julius. The two men made casual small talk about the Circadian and other events as they made there way through the whinding halls of the battlecruiser toward Julius' private chambers. When they arrived, the hiss of the airlocked doors gave way to the stately quarters of the Captain.

"Please," Julius gestured as he took a seat in the tall black leather command chair of his office. "Have a seat." Positioned opposite him was a smaller black chair of equal calibre which Rob Stellar took .carefully holding his tie against his suit as he sat. Julius got right to the point. He played the message he had intercepted back for Rob Stellar with a flick of his finger. Once the message was complete, Julius looked up from a small datapad of information.

"Are you fimiliar with the Death Seed virus, Mr. Stellar?"

He nodded his head. "Vaguely."

"It nearly destroyed the entire Meridian sector ages ago during the time of the first New Republic. My commanders have informed me that this transmission is relatively new, and is not a forgotten recording being retransmitted at random. The recording was submitted only a few days ago. I need your help."

Rob raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening, Captain."

"The Meridian Sector is only a short jump from here, but my presence is required here.... if anything as a deterrant to any further Imperial aggression on the part of Grand Moff Drayson. I need you to assemble a team of scientists and security personnel, and have them randezvous with us at The Wheel."

"Us?" Rob questioned. "I thought you were needed here."

"I am. Which is why I need you to sneak me off of the ship. Once we discover what is going on in the Meridian sector, I will have you sneak me back on."

Julius paused for a moment and flicked his fingers over a few command controls. "My most trusted officers will keep up the illusion that I am present so that things run smoothly. In the event that the Imperials wish to speak to me, I am taking my personal holonet with me. Utilizing it, I can patch directly through to the Circadian's mainframe, creating the illusion that I am still present in the Roche Asteroid Belt."

"What if something happens?" Rob stellar inquired.

Julius signed. "Let's hope that it doesn't."