Once, the Cree'ar and the Skey'g'aar lived together, until the Skey'g'aar announced they believed the "Sky Gods" who created them would return, and the Cree'ar fanatically rejected that. There was a long war, and in the course of it, a group of both races left the world, tired of fighting, to resettle. The war would continue for 200 years until the Sky God returned. He summouned leaders of both races to come to their homeworlds moon. They both came, and when they arrived, the Sky God used his dark powers to kill the Skey. He said he was from far in the future. He said he came from a time when the Yuuzhan Vong overran his world, and only when they began to use the force to it's full dark potential did the race survive. He tells the Cree'ar to use the darkness that surrounds them and enslave the Skey'g'aar, become strong, before it is too late. And so they did. In time, the Cree'ar managed to build a large Empire. The Yuuzhan Vong scouts detirmened their united Empire would be able to hold off an invasion, and skipped their galaxy entirely. The entire galaxy would fall to the evil Cree'ar. Eventually, the High Command sent out scouts to find the Yuuzhan Vong and destroy them.

And those scouts had called the hammer.

And now the Hammer came.

<font color="blue">Millions of voices, always speaking, never speaking... always loud and always silent... I hear them calling, calling in the dark, and calling in the wake. They speak to me, to each other, and to no one in perticular.</font>

Lumber lumber forward vessel of the Cree'Ar.

The ship continued to hurtle through space, at ten times the speed of light. It's journey was almost complete... two weeks remaining of the 450 year journey... and now was the time to wake the remnants of the ship. Besides the high elder himself, only his Skey'g'aar assistant and the millons of lifeless robots tended to the ship.

<font color="blue">Not lifeless. More a fraction of life... a shadow. What is left when freedom and independance is stripped from life. Pure obediance and mindless autonomical loyalty. Were it not deemed so to use them by high command, I would kill them all, and replace them with Skey'g'aar. Unfortunatly we cannot breed Skey'g'aar fast enough.</font>

It had been a long 768 years. Since the time the high elder was born on the home world, to now, when he had been sent to find a new world to live out the remainder of his life, it had been 768 years. He wasn't that old, really... one of the scouts sent before him to this place would be 896 years old. If he was still alive. Of the three scouts sent to this place, only one continued to call to the Kal Shora and the home world. The youngest of the three, at only 235 years old. He was a member of the Sanctum of Light and Sky. He was a strong follower of the dark arts, and was able to travel time as if he himself were an arbiter. The High Elder doubted such rumors of the strength of darkness... it embued him, and he saw what was not there and was yet to come, heard what no one said, but he could not be unto tommorow and tommorow.

At least not yet.

<font color="blue">Child of darkness. Grow you so powerful the second himself would fear you? What awaits us in our new home? You have spoken of machines and great vessels of war, but what of the men, and their blood? Does it boil? Are we to face warriors or politicans ahead? So many questions! So little answers.</font>

The time was now. To prepare the others for what was ahead. He began with the Sanctum, and he allowed the water to flow into the bowels of the ship, and allowed the air to cool as the Cree'ar were released from the sanctity of sleep.

<font color="green">Awaken my brothers. The time draws near for our mission in service to Borleas Qua'y'Ver. Draw breath, and rise.</font>

And when the Sky God returned, he cut a swath of destruction through the lesser gods the Cree'ar had worshipped, displaying their weakness for all to see. In this period, a godless period of nine days and seven hours, chaos reigned throughout Cree'Ar society, a holy war amongst themselves. When it came to a close, the Sky God, in his infinite mercy, allowed the other gods to survive. The God of Loyalty, Shi'narral, was the only god that lay dead, murdered as a show of his power.

As the Skyey'g'aar were enslaved, one of them was raised to Godhood, Fiyar. It was as a show of the Overseer's mercy that the lesser being became a god; appropriately, given that the surrendering Skyey'g'aar had sworn an oath of loyalty to the Cree'Ar, Fiyar replaced the dead Shi'narral as the God of Loyalty.

And so it was that, with the Sky God, Borleas Queyver, at the head of the Eternal Pantheon of Gods, the new faith, the Sanctum of Light and Sky was established under the first High Priest, Vikere Elac. And down the generations through conquest after conquest, the Sanctum continued to be the driving force behind the quest of the Cree'Ar.

The Priest Lord, the Most Holy Envoy of Borleas Queyver, stepped lightly, free of hibernation at last. The Inner Sanctum of the Sanctum of Light and Sky had been awakened, the council of nine Priest Lords, to the High Priest, Qelmar Vierrnal. As Teklen Venexire entered, he found, to his dismay, the eight other Priest Lords gathered around a still hibernation chamber.

"He is..." Teklen began, "Dead?"

Those around the circle merely nodded. One spoke, "The seal malfunctioned, we believe. He was old before the journey began; without proper hibernation, he merely faded away." This was true; the corpse lay appearing older than the Sky God in the hibernation chamber.

Teklen felt no grief for the loss of his bretheren; such was the way of the Cree'Ar. But his cold, calculating mind immediately began spinning, like clockwork. He approached the tank, rubbing one hand across the crystaglass surface once, as if grieving for his former master. He turned back to his bretheren, with a flourish of his hand. "Then, my brothers, we must elect one more to our number, and appoint a High Priest!" As he spoke, behind his cloak, as the others were distracted by his one hand, the Priest Lord unsheathed his arm-claw and stabbed it slowly into the glass, retracting it just as quickly. "Vomar Xeziz, you are the eldest among us. Feel you ready to take up the reigns?"

The man, obviously elated at Teklen's suggestion, nodded eagerly. Teklen patted him on the shoulder, and smiled sadly. Then he turned, an took one more look at his old master. Or, he appeared to.

Whispering, "Qelmar...", he gracefully drew one hand across the crystaglass, mournfully. Until, on purpose, his hand slipped into the hole he'd cut. With a gasp of feigned shock, he pulled his cut hand free, the blood dripping from the wound. Teklen was a gifted actor. "W-what is this!?" He cried, grasping his hand and staggering back. "A slice in the glass of our High Priest's chamber? Treachery! Treachery! Such a slice would be enough to kill poor Qelmar, as it did!"

Uniform gasps went up, as the others rushed around the thing, examining it. All but Vomar; he stayed quite still. Staring. Knowing what was coming. Despite his calculating nature telling him better, Teklen couldn't help but grab his earlobe -- the Cree'Ar equivalent of a wink. As the others turned, he declared, "Who is the eldest here -- Vomar! He knew he would profit from Qelmar's death! And so, the greedy fool, he took it upon himself to kill the old Cree'Ar in cold blood!"

The others nodded. And yet, as Teklen scanned the gathered, one head did not bob. Welxer Xeziz, Vomar's brother. In one fluid motion, Teklen unsheathed his arm-claw and stabbed Vomar once in the chest. Blood bubbled instantly from the wound, as dark energy of the Force balled in Teklen's other hand. He slammed the energy against Vomar's chest, crashing through the wound and striking a huge, gaping hole in the Cree'Ar's chest. The Priest flew away, landing five meters away in a pool of blood.

But, Teklen's sixth sense tingled in the back of his thoughts. His quick mind remembered Welxer's disbelief, and his eyes darted to him. The man was opening his mouth to speak -- and Teklen knew instinctively that he had seen Teklen commit the act himself. Welxer obviously cared nothing for his brother, but desired to be promoted to High Priest himself.

Teklen lashed out with his bare fist, closing the distance and striking Welxer in the stomach. The fool doubled over, and Teklen stabbed his claw into the base of his neck. His quick mind produced a solution, and his equally quick hand darted to Welxer's Vy'reia'la Sword sheath, which held the ceremonial but deadly sword all Priest Lords possessed. Each level had it's own sword or dagger. Teklen pulled the thing from it's sheath, and allowed it to clatter to the floor with Welxer, who was undeniably dead, his spine severed.

Teklen pointed down to his sword. "Welxer desired vengeance for his brother," He lied. "Let this be a lesson; for traitors, there is only swift and sudden death." The others, now six, nodded to Teklen.

One stepped forward. "For his work today, in the name of the Red Sun, the Overseer, the Sacred Guide, the Sky God Borleas Queyver, I motion that Teklen Venexire be promoted to High Priest!" He ended in a shout, and a grand "hurrah" from the rest completed the motion.

Teklen didn't allow himself a smile. He bowed to his brothers reverently. "I thank you all for this great honor. Though Qelmar Vierrnal can never be replaced, I shall make it my life's goal to endeavor to serve as well as he." An approving mutter went up from the Priest Lords as Teklen stood. A High Priest.

"Now, we must promote three more to our number, to replace the three dead this day, my friends." Teklen said. "Go out, and find three worthy Lesser Priests."

They nodded, and dispersed. When they were gone, Teklen took one last look down at Qelmar. He really had liked the Cree'Ar. It almost seemed wrong to profit from his death, but it was no matter. Teklen had no doubt that many of the Priest Lords had deducted what had truly occured that day. But they had no proof, and Welxer and Vomar lay dead. The incident was over, done, and there could be nothing more to come of it. There were no trials in the Sanctum of Light and Sky. That was the way of things.

Teklen opened the hatch of Qelmar's chamber with the press of a button, his hand darting inside and drawing out the old Cree'Ar's sword, a Mekr'ath. It was older than what would now be forged for the High Priest, a curved red blade with a black handle, made of metal that seemed to pulse with life in the Dark Art.

Older, but likely more powerful. Teklen drew his Vy'reia'la from it's sheath, dropping it to the ground. He cared nothing for material possessions beyond their immediate usefulness.

Teklen took one last glance at Qelmar, and at the powerful sword he'd taken. Certainly, the old Cree'Ar would not have minded one last profiting from his death. After all, that was the way of things.

The way of the Cree'Ar.

<font color="red">Elder, we have a communication coming from a world the inferiors refer to as Rendilli; it is a 10c signal.</font>

<font color="green">Our scout? On the portal!</font>

The image of the blue-crowned creature faded into view across the rippling surface of the communications portal. The creature came into focus, and nodded in respect.

<font color="red">Elder, it pleases me to know our distance is so short now. I would seek to meet you in person but I believe that you would wish to know what I have discovered.</font>

The elder was curious to say the least.

<font color="green">Speak my child, tell me what you have discovered.</font>

<font color="red">The inferiors have something known as the holonet. It is somewhat similar to our c-velocity transmission net however much slower and much more rudimentary. It was reported across this holonet that a weapon of mass size and destructive capability was being constructed. I have been able to discern from catolauged intelligence that the faction building this weapon is a faction known as the Rogue Empire.</font>

The elder would have arched a brow, had he a brow, or muscles to arch it with.

<font color="green">How does this interest the Dominion, child?</font>

<font color="red">It presents us an oppurtunity, Elder. I can board his station... he has an open invitation for factions wishing to negotiate. I can betray it's location, and we can take a few Borleas cruisers there, and send it to 11c velocity. It will be swallowed into transpace.</font>

<font color="green">Once again I question this oppurtunity to the Dominion. How would this stations destruction benifit us?</font>

<font color="red">This weapon does not present a threat to us, but it presents a threat to every other faction in this coil. It will give us leverage... other factions will fear us, and allow us leverage to take uninhabited systems, attack small, corrupt corporations... until it is finally us or them, and it is too late for them to defeat us.</font>

<font color="green">You think wisely, for a Skey'g'aar. I will consider this course of actions and it's ramifications... where shall we meet you?</font>

<font color="red">There is an uninhabited asteroid known as CSUSB-347. Do not bring a ship. Use a land based c-velocity conduit so as not to arouse attention.</font>

<font color="green">Where would I find one of those?</font>

<font color="red">There are several located in Csillian space. I have placed a locator on their central potral. Take an Arbiter to it's location, and join me on this asteroid. I will tell you all I know, and become indoctrined.</font>

<font color="green">Be well child. Until we speak again.</font>

The portal faded to black, and the High Elder went to the sanctum for guidance.

The Lambda-class shuttle <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Dumahium<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> pressed across open space at a slow steady pace. The small imperial ship had been trawling the same stretch of stars for some time now, to no avail. It's purpose in the area was unknown to the most of the crew, albeit speculated. Rumors spread quickly within the small confines of the ship, though most held their tongues for fear of being cast out into the abyss of space.

The circuit of travel which the craft had been taking was now on its tenth cycle, and many grew weary of the same gaseous starscapes passing them by. The idea that this was perhaps a one way mission was blooming in the minds of most now. It was as if they were waiting for something, expecting it to be here and would not leave until what they sought unveiled itself.

The captain, one self proclaimed Lord, Dumah, stood at the helm of his ship. He wore some ceremonial type garb and looked out on the void before him with an air of self righteous arrogance. On occasion men in loosely familiar uniforms would approach and murmur something to him, though aside from this he was left to his own devices.

At 0346 hours, standard time, the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> thing<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> which had dought in the shadows for so long finally revealed itself. A huge temporal displacement in the atmosphere around the transport shook it to its very foundations as off to the northwest something crackled in the midnight sky. A tear slit the fabric of the sky and from the open wound burst a behemoth.

All hands on the deck of the ship rushed to the front of the craft, swarming around Dumah, as their eyes followed the craft. It must have been 60km in length, at least, and was crafted like some ghoulish organic phantasm with spiralling pylons and high-risen wings on its rear. As it exited from its portal-like conduit, smaller crafts - though still larger than the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Dumahium<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> - seperated from it and fanned outwards. Bulky cruisers and similiar vessels flanked the larger ship on all sides as he pulled its final square kilometre from the void, allowing for the gateway to zip shut once more.

The Nebula which the small fleet had used to veil its entrance swirled around the black giants, illuminating them with violet miasmas.

"Back to your stations,"

Dumah rose one cloven-hand to signify that panic was not required. He watched, head canted, as the ships tripped across the main view, eclipsing all else that the dwarfed shuttle had been previously able to see.

"Follow them."

A general mutter of discomfort was instantly expressed as the atmosphere moved from one of uneasiness to fear. The tall ghaunt figure turned from his command position to look upon the crew, who instantly silenced their concerns and nodded as the engines fired up, casting the ship off on a course to shadow the curious giant.

The galaxy slowly faded into view, and as the stars got brighter, the High Elder allowed a smile to cross his face.

<font color="red">"Elder..."</font>

<font color="green">"I may be old but I have not yet gone blind. Open a communication to the rest of the ship."</font>

A beep confirmed it was open.

<font color="green">"Designated children, please join your high elder in this vessels command section."</font>

<font color="blue">Yes... we are here children. I hear your wonder. Rest your minds. It begins now.</font>

A door hissed open, and several priests filtered into the room.

<font color="green">"My children. It has been so long since I have seen you, but our journey is now complete. Tell an old man, does Qelmar Vierrnal walk among you?"</font>

All looked away, nervous. The youngest of the group spoke.

<font color="red">"Dead Elder... murdered. His cryogenic statis tank was sabotauged."</font>

<font color="blue">Grow things so bad that Cree'Ar murder each other? Children, your second has tainted you... tainted you in the most greivous way...</font>

The High Elder sighed.

<font color="green">"Which of you has suceeded him as our High Priest?"</font>

The gleaming red sword hanging readily apparent at his waist, Teklen stepped forward from the group, the slightest of smiles on his pale face. The reverse-jointed Cree'Ar easily swept into a deep bow. "Elder Shora," The younger Cree'Ar said, rising. "I have taken Qelmar's position in these most grave of circumstances."

"The Kevel," He said, the offensive Cree'Ar word for "traitor", "And his brother are dead by my hand." Teklen spat once on the ground, an undignified act, but appropriate in Cree'Ar culture when speaking of a traitor. Or supposed traitor. But those thoughts were guarded well... "I mourn the loss of Qelmar nonetheless. Such vengeance cannot bring him back, but hopefully, his spirit will rest easy."

He drew his red sword only slightly, exposing just enough of the Mekr'ath to cast a pale light in the chamber. "I present myself to the Glorious Dominion as the High Priest of the Sanctum of Light and Sky. I serve for the glory of Borleas Queyver and the Cree'Ar." Teklen said, speaking the ceremonial words.

As the red washed over his face, the High Elder was granted by the gods sight of what was then...

<font color="blue">You killed him... you have disgraced your people... but the people have changed... and I can understand your ambition... but I will be watching you.</font>

The High Elder motioned for the others to leave.

<font color="green">"High Priest, as you know now, we have crossed the great void. I require you to come with me to speak to our advanced scout. We will take one of our heavy cruisers, and travel into what is known as Imperi..."</font>

<font color="blue">What? What show me? A ship? A man? What message... Borleas.</font>

<font color="green">"Take us into the nabula. I believe our arrival has been noticed already. We have aqquired a tail."</font>

"Dead?" Varex asked.

Varex put on his best innocent look that he could muster. He had already known that the Lessar Priest was dead long before the others discovered the Cree'Ar's corpse lieing in his own quarters. In fact, Varex had killed the Cree'Ar himself, but he didn't want the others to know that for it would surely get him killed.

"Yes. We found him with a sword wound in the back almost an hour ago. It seemed to be the doings of another Lessar Priest." the Skey'g'aar said.

"Show the corpse to me." Varex replied.

Varex walked along side of the Skey'g'aar as he led him down the familiar halls towards the dead Priest's, Soahn Arexai, quarters. They finally got to the quarters, and the Skey'g'aar opened the door. Inside, the room was in a mess. Numerous amounts of debris was scattered all over, and the corpse was lieing there, just as dead as Varex had left him.

"Ah. Varex Tarien. I see you have been notified of the unfortunate death of Soahn." a Cree'Ar spoke when he entered.

"Yes, Norian, I have been notified. In fact, I have my suspicions about the one who killed him." Varex said.

"Really? Like I always say, you have an extremely bright mind. Who do you think it was?"
Norian asked.

"That will be revealed to you at the proper time, Norian." Varex replied.

Varex walked out the the dead Priest's quarters. He made his way down the stretching hallways, until finally he made it to his own quarters. He walked in, not bothering to turn on the light, and fell into a chair, resting his tired legs and brain.





"We have gathered here today to let everyone know that as of yesterday, Soahn Arexai, Lesser Priest, has been murdered." a Cree'Ar said as soon as everyone was seated.

There were some gasps from the crowd, but most of them had already heard or didn't care, or both for some. All of the Lesser Priests onboard the craft were gathered in a medium sized room and seated at an oval-shaped table. Varex waited for his introduction patiently, knowing what the Priest was going to say before he said it.

"We have here, although, a Lesser Priest who claims to know who the murderer is. I introduce to you now, Varex Tarien." The Cree'Ar announced.

Varex quietly stood up and slowly walked forward to speak at the head of the table. Not many people were suprised for it was often that Varex had accusations and announcements to make. He smiled slightly at the other Cree'Ar before beginning.

"I will not bore you with small talk and dramatic speach. I will get straight to the point. My accusation is covered with solid evidence. I believe that the murderer was Narian Vazera." he said.

Some people stared, some people laughed, some people didn't look suprised at all. Narian Vazera was a Lesser Priest who was yesterday promoted the rank of Priest Lord. Everyone knew that Varex had no right to accuse a Cree'Ar of higher rank than him of murder.

"Now I know what you are thinking. I can't accuse him of the murder of Soahn Arexai because he is a Priest Lord and I am a Lesser Priest, but the time of the killing was BEFORE Narian was promoted to Priest Lord. Therefore I have every right to accuse him of murder." Varex stated.

There were some murmers of anger and suprise and even shock, but in the end they all settled down, realizing that Varex was correct. One Cree'Ar stood up.

"Why would a Narian kill Soahn?" he said.

"Because rumor has it that Soahn was to become a Priest Lord instead of Narian because he was older and wiser than him." Varex replied.

"But those were just rumors!" a Cree'Ar shouted out.

"That doesn't mean Narian didn't believe them." Varex replied.

Again, there were murmers, but in the end they all subsided, realizing that again Varex was correct. The Cree'Ar sat down, but another one stood up.

"Do you mean to propose that we walk into a Priest Lord's quarters and KILL him?" he said

"That is EXACTLY what I am proposing. He should not get away with this injustice just because he was promoted." Varex said.

There were murmers of disapproval, but they were drowned out by the murmers of agreement. The second Cree'Ar remaind standing, though.

"Who would be crazy enough to kill a Priest Lord?" he asked.

"If no one else is brave enough, I will. I will not let this unjustice be ignored." Varex stated.

Varex unsheathed his sword and walked out of the room. Slowly, the amazed Lesser Priests followed. They walked down the corridors, on and on and on, until they arrived at Narian Vazera's quarters. Varex pounded on the door repeatedly. After a few seconds, the door swung open and there stood Narian, an angry look on his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off when Varex impaled him in the stomach with his sword.

Pok Lenas'A'lean gleamed over the pathetic excuses of life known as crewmen. He was the First of Dominion Fleet Operations. First! The imbeciles on the bridge, the Priests, the Politicians all failed to forget that. Failed to remember that Pok Lenas'A'lean was the FIRST! Throughout the most recent part of the trek everyone felt that they had a say in where the ship went. They did not.

The Kal Shora, also known as the Cree'Ar super ship, lurked between dense patches of fog, or da'a'ska was a better word for it. The Lort'ka(Cree'Ar word for super ship), pushed threw the Nebula.

Sensor posts had detected an eye of the cloud. A calm emptyness in the ravid blues and greens and yellow extremes that composed the song of the Nebula. Inside the eye was an array of planetoids. Readouts showed half a dozen planetoids in the void and a small metallic vehical.

"Da'Hanas!" Pok Lenas'A'Lean roared he was directing his orders to one of the many beings beneath his rank, "Send one Ja'Mha Rerodon cruiser to flank the metallic shell from the left, one from the right and one vectoring to cut him off. The have five Mak'Tal Bek cruisers disable it in a Nokr'a Formation." The Da'Hanas issued the orders.

A Nokr'a formation was very simple move used with at least three ships. The first ship, the center moved the slowest, then a short ways away on both sides flew another ship, also infront of the center by about thirty meters, and then the next two with proper spacing and so on and so forth.

Today the Cree'Ar would make their precense known unto this galaxy full of scat who shall soon become either just that or have their wills bent to do the Cree'Ar's will. First of Dominion fleet Operation Pok Lenas'A'Lean would prove his worth to the gods and conquer all in his path.