The newly promoted Grand Admiral Telween stood aboard his <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Imperial<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->-Class Star Destroyer <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> El Dorado<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->...the former flagship of General Thornbury. He watched as the stars tangled into and around each other against the dark, black backdrop of outer space. He had only a handful of ships with him, but indeed he intended to find the lost planet Bastion, and he intended to do it quickly. Bastion was supposed to be the capital of the Empire, and according to legend it was even greater than Corsucant in spoils and luxuaries. It was supposed to be the prime center of galactic power and desire, there were few who had laid eyes upon it, and most of those few who had....had not returned to tell the tale.

These of course were just legends, legends that had spread amongst the persons involved in the Rogue Imperial search party. Telween had several records to go abroad, and most of them seemed to give at least hints in what direction to look at. Apparently Admiral Pellaeon had dealed with the New Republic there, and there were some coordinates to a system <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> near<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> Bastion that could be used as a rally point. When the probes were launched, they would eventually find it, and if one did not return...that told them exactly where to look.

Telween hated these search missions, they were harrowing and dangerous, and what's worse? He didn't know what exactly he was looking for. How would he know when he found the planet? That's when it occured to him...it would be qutie obvious when they found it.

There were new methods to use to find this hidden capital, it cannot masquerade itself behind space forever. Bastion was going to be found soon...and Admiral Telween would be the one to bring home the glory of finding it.



******************************************************


"Now you're sure you know what to do?" Rasanok asked, making certain everything was for sure with the man who was expected to go through with the daring endeavor. They were at Dubrillion, expecting a major Tibanna Gas shipment, with a mixture of important arms and supplies for the Imperial efforts against the New Republic. The young man nodded his head, his brown hair shaking as he did so. "Good, don't mess this up or Fearsons'll have your head."

"You got it boss," the young man, Denar, said with a smile.

"Make us all proud," Rasanok told his little brother.

"Pah, maybe when Nkllon freezes over." Rasanok smiled just as the pod with him in it eased out of view and continued its decent toward the Dubrillion surface. Rasanok was really proud of his brother, but he was also worried...worried he'd never see him after this mission...worried he'd be gone for good.

Rasanok, otherwise known as Commander Tasego, turned back to the glowing red monitor of his control console, seeing as the shipment came pulling in to the Dubrillion docking station. His little brother did not have a lot of time to do what he was assigned to, but he was confident he'd get to it and do it right.

"Ok little Bro, you got three cargo ships inbound, you have to tag the middle one," he explained.

"Aww why not the one on the right?" his little brother mimickly whined, and Rasanok chuckled.

"Because the middle one's the one with the gas."

"Ahh good point."




*********************************************
*********




Denar eased his space suit covered body onto the transport that was "expecting" him, dubbed <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Death's Star 2<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->. It sent a chilling reminder to him of the Empire's Second Death Star and how Palpatine died at Endor...it was an...interesting day that he'd learned about in school several times.

He positioned his feet on the transparisteel view port and knocked lightly on it, getting the soldiers' attention. He recognized them as his contacts for the mission, Jase and Jack. Denar did not doubt those were not their real names, but he was in no position to argue with that. The air lock hissed an angry cry as it opened itself up for him, and the second lieutenant slid himself in. Moments later, the air lock was shut, and he was inside. There was a moment or two to steralize him, incase he'd picked up any foreign objects, then a door in the cylinder like tube slid open, allowing him to exit. It looked like the typical cargo hold of any cargo ferry. The lights were dim, or out, with several boxes piled on top of each other, but across the room were several canisters of an eerie looking liquid, it looked brown and gooey....Tibanna Gas.

"There it is," Jase said from behind him, startling the younger man. He felt his muscles tighten, then suddenly retract and he spun to face his contact. He was dressed in a khaki Imperial uniform, wearing the false rank cylinder and multicolored awards.

"I see..." Denar said, drawing out his chemical balance reader, holding it over the liquid holding canisters. They beeped wildly, and the several squares indicating graphs ran up to the red. "Yup, everything's in there...now I just need to get my hands on an Imperial uniform." By the time he spun around he saw the two contacts holding out his entire uniform...he was a tad bit embarassed when he saw it.

"I'm gonna' be a crewman?!" he shot at them after seeing the pilot declared "gay crewman helm".

"That or you can walk around in your Rogue Imperial uniform, which is it?" Jack shot at him, and Denar sighed his defeat.

"Fine, but gimme' some privacy at least."

"Yea no problem," and with that the two contacts left him be so he could change.



*****************************************************



It was itchy. It was smelly. It was too tight. The helmet looked gay. A list of poor adjectives could go on explaining the different ways Denar hated his new Imperial uniform, but he knew it was the only way he could get aboard the Imperial ship safely. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Stupid Rogue Imperial High Command<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> he thought, but said nothing of it.

Jase and Jack gave him a quick brief of what he was to do, and what he could expect. They also warned him that he'd need to stop scratching himself if he intended to fool anyone...Imperial officers by then had gotten use to the itching.

He got down on one knee as the ship suddenly began to rumble, no doubt the Imperial heavy lifters were coming to pick them up now. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Ok PeFauna...your training had better have paid off...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

Imperial storm troopers entered the merchant ship and immediately began looking for anything suspicious. He ran up to the one that looked to be the leader -- having an orange slit on his right shoulder -- and saluted eagerly.

"Sir, I have personally inspected the cargo, all is clear," he said, hoping the storm troopers did not have a chemical reaction reader as he did. He felt his stomach knot, and he bit his bottom lip tensely.

"All's clear sir," one of the storm troopers said in his radio sounding voice. It felt as though a thousand tons were taken off of his shoulders suddenly.

"Ok then, get aboard the ship, we'll be heading back to Bastion soon," the commander said and nodded to the secret agent, allowing him to drop from attention and scurry aboard. They were off.

In light of the <!--EZCODE HTML START--> Meeting<!--EZCODE HTML END-->, much action had been taken through the legal departments of the Offices of Extra-Planetary Affairs.


Having paid the credits for the certifications to do buisness within the Empire, complying with the Corporate Authorities Offices on Standard Imperial Procedures, Seamus Arliss was not about to allow some "mom and pop" (what he called all outside and ultimately alien run businesses) in to get a piece of his market.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> What outsiders failed to realize was that the Empire was not a free market.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


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


"I am telling you, Captain, I tire of these transports carrying nothing but contraband supplies. The Empire hold's exclusive contracts and we've 77% of them. Either the military does something about them or Mr. Arliss will."

"Are you saying that Mr. Arliss will build a military of his own?" the Captain asked.

Mr. Arliss daughter sighed and turned her icy blue eyes to him. "I am saying that Interplanetary Services LTD, will protect it's interests if the Empire won't."

"We have the trasnport do we not?"

"Mr. Conrad is checking it out now. Remember, we've special dispensation over all competitor's assets by order of Moff Cronus."

"Every planet but Dubrillion and Destrillion have been audited by Governmental Finance, of which Mr. Conrad is a member of the board. If he finds shady business going on, he will order a full quarantine and arrests."

"Sort of extreme don't you think?" the Captain asked rather nervously.

"Mr. Conrad takes money matters, especially losses, very personally Captain."


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

Mr. Conrad waited impatiently as the lifters brought up the transport craft of an outside competitor.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Naturally<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

As the ship was being brought up, he checked the manifest Bill of Lading and noted a slight descrepancy. When one took the gross weight figure and subtracted the weight of the transport, what was left was mainly your commodity. But according to the Bill, the vessel was heavier than what the lifter monitor's were indicating.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Damned weasels...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

The Docking Master and Mr. Conrad stood and waited as 10 stormtroopers went in to inspect the craft. Standard procedures had to be implimented after all.


As Mr. Conrad was calculating the billing of Interplanetary Services' time, the comm unit cracked, "All's clear sir."

Mr. Conrad's head turned to the Dock Master and he commented, "Rather quick for an inspection don't you think? What did he do? sniff the air?"

"We get people like this all the time, Sir." the Docking Master said, picking up his comm unit.

"Ok, then. Get aboard the ship. We'll be heading back to Bastion soon."

"What was that about?" Mr. Conrad demanded.

"Over the years, we get all sorts of yahoos trying to sneak aboard, mostly in hopes that we will head to the mysterious planet of Bastion. Typically, they try to blend into the inspection team so when the trooper says, 'All's clear', that is his signal that something is up."

"Bastion?" Mr. Conrad asked. "Why in the bloody blue blazes would anyone want to find a planet that doesn't exist? Perhaps they want to infiltrate the military?"

"Then he'll have to wait to be promoted from crewman rather quickly. Those uniforms are two years old."

And suddenly, 11 soldier's exited.

"Oh for the love of all dead Sith.." Mr. Conrad sighed. Did this intruder think that Imperials could not add or subtract the number of people entering and exiting a craft?

All 11 exiting soldiers were surrounded by a company and taken to a holding cell for interrogation. The Empire would take no chances that the would be infiltrator was not trying to meet one of the inspection teams.

At Mr. Conrad's express urging, the transport was released, targeted and destroyed. When the sensors picked up Tibanna residue, Mr. Conrad smiled.

"That's alot of money our competitor's no longer have."

The Imperial vessel completed it's patrol of Dubrillion's commercial interests, and finally ended the day by berthing near the shipyard.


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


Notification to Planetary Magistrate: Dubrillion/Destrillion and surrounding areas


All Bespin products are hereby prohibited within the Empire. All munitions and military issue products must be certified by an appropriate Imperial Agency. Such certification would involve inspection by an Imperial Body of all manufacturing and facility sites.

Any corporation having corporate offices on foreign power's soil must undergo added inspection by the Inquisitors.


----------

Let the other company's attempt to expand in this war torn galaxy, as long as the Empire remains mine.

Seamus Arliss looked at the quarter balance sheet and smiled.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Bastion indeed. Everyone knows there is no such planet.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

They'd taken Jase, and Jack was now hiding as best he could behind one of the several crates in the cargo ferry. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> We'll send a rescue mission later, for now we need to get to Bastion and send off the beacon<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> Denar thought. He continued to stand guard, prudently refusing to follow when they had called all clear. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Why did Jase have to follow? Is he trying to play Mr. Hero?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

They'd fled to the next transport just as the first one began lugging into space for the TIEs to waste. Fortunately, Jack had had the smarts to grab one of the Tibanna Gas containers and bring it with him to the next cargo ferry. When he'd arrived at the next freighter, Denar sat himself down next to the window and let out a long sigh.

He watched out into space as the craft lugged itself out of the docking yard and toward the hyperspace nav buoy. The hyperspace beacon would transmit coordinates to the craft for thet next jump, and then they would be, most likely, en route to Bastion.

"What do you think they're going to do to him?" asked Jack as he stroked his jaw with his finger tips. Denar merely shrugged.

"I don't have a clue...torture him I guess. It <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> is<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> the Empire, and apparently Fearsons has been forced to do that to a person or two."

Denar let in a deep throated gulp and walked over to the other side of the transport's cargo hold. There he looked at the Tibanna Gas, the storm troopers had inspected it in search of some bacteria...but fortunately they could not find any. It blended in perfectly. If anything all it did was give off abnormal heat signatures that could easily be explained as a reaction to Dabrillion's gravity, or that it needs to be respun...it's not entirely uncommon.

"Think we'll actually make it to Bastion?" Denar asked with a discontented sigh.

"In all honesty, I don't know," Jack sighed as well, draping his black gloved hand over his eyes, he needed sleep badly. Apparently he'd been awake for the past fourty eight hours trying to get everything reasoned out for this mission. It had been planned beautifully and soon they would have the lost location of the planet Bastion.

Bastion...was it really worth it? Once the Empire was unraveled, all they would have left would be Bastion. The fake crewman tried not to dwell on it, he had to concentrate on the field manual he'd been forced to read seventy-two hours prior.

There was a click from the comms unit, then a voice audited from the radio. "Attention all personnel, we are moving into hyperspace in three...two...one!" there was a brief flurry of centriphical force, and then the stars pressed into lines, and then moaned into a spiraling cerulean tunnel.

Denar rose and lifted up his comm link to his lips. "Attention, attention Star Destroyer <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> El Dorado<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, this is Lt. Denar, come in over."

"Roger Denar, this is <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> El Dorado<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->."

"<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> El Dorado<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> we are en route to Bastion, I am uploading the coordinates to this comm link."

"Roger Denar, <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Elo Dorado<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> out."

Denar gave a brief sigh, feeling that the hard part of his mission was over...yet it only began.

"Who are you?" he heard from behind in that familiar clicking voice. A storm trooper.

"I'm Lt. Denar Crease, I was transferred here for this shipment," Denar lied. Of course the first name was true, but it was a fictiteous lie that his last name was Crease and that he was transferred at all.

"Bull, front and center."

Feeling horror pump through his veins, he lifted his hands in the air and turned around slowly, trying not to anger the storm trooper any more than he already had. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> I can't believe I blew it...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->.

However, neither of them saw Jack creep up to the Imperial troop from behind with his seven inch blade. He grabbed the soldier by the head and jerked the helmet forward, there was a little opening in the back of the neck, and after his survival training in the Forests of Dothamir, Jack knew exactly where to hit. He ran the blade deep into the man's neck, paralyzing him indefinitely, and then a moment later...killing him. Blood had managed to spray out, but the secret agent was smart enough to duck down, only to get some on his hand.

"You'll need to wipe that off," Denar remarked proudly.

"We'll need to dispose of the body."

"That's easy, tuck it in a case...once we get to Bastion our cover's gonna' go to hell anyway."

"I see..."

Jack and Denar wasted no time in finding a near empty case and tucking the the storm trooper corpse in there. He had not screamed and therefore could give off no cries for help, and they had already searched him for devices to send automated transmissions.


*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***


Telween checked the navigational maps aboard the Star Destroyer <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> El Dorado<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, trying to confirm a location of the potential target Bastion. According to reports it was south of Helska, and north of the Drustrillion/Dubrillian twins.

The cargo ferry they'd been tailing had however taken a western route, toward Adumar for some strange reason, then curved again and went straight toward Almania, then curved again toward Helska. There was no doubt in Telween's mind that Bastion laid between Helska and Dubrillian.

He tapped the small star cluster between the two planets and let a smile cress onto his lips. "We'll have Bastion yet."

His finger pressed a small red button near the holomap. "Captain?"

"Yes sir?"

"Set a hyperspace vector for Helska."

"Sir?"

"You heard me."

"Which one sir?"

"Helska Two."

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> We'll have Bastion yet.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->



*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***


They edged out of hyperspace in the Septera system, which was apparently two hundred klicks from the Bastion system, part of the old Imperial Remnant space. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> If we really are close to Bastion...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

Denar exitted the cargo hold and entered the cockpit to the small cargo transport dubbed a cargo ferry. It had been a long travel, but finally they were nearing their destination, and he had a few questions for the pilot.

"We're almost to Bastion, right sir?" Denar asked politely. The co-pilot turned his head and nodded.

"What's with all the ships?" he said looking out of the forward viewport and seeing the hundreds of cargo vessels lined up in a perfectly straight line outward like a Coruscant traffic jam.

"Imperial pilots go out and pick up the merchant ships, bring them into Bastion, then bring them out after erasing the logs and data banks. We need to keep supplies up y'know."

"I see...thank you." Denar nodded his head and exitted the small @#%$ pit and reached the cargo hold again. Once again he had contacted the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> El Dorado<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, and once again he had given off the coordinates of his location.



*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***



The coordinates were not particularly helpful, it was the heat signatures that the tibanna gas gave off. The Star Destroyer <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> El Dorado<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> leaned itself out of hyperspace, anchoring toward the Septera system. The IFF codes they gave off were not false, the persons aboard did not pretend to be Imperial soldiers. Now the Rogue Empire was assaulting the New Order head on.

Though only with one Star Destroyer, Palpatine had devastating hundreds of systems with only one of these awesome war devices. Telween's Redemption Battle Cruisers would be orbitting themselves around Bastion as well after the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> El Dorado<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> pin pointed the Imperial capital.

"Attention Rogue Imperial Star Destroyer, you are in restricted air space, surrender immediately," came the cry from the Imperial battle stations. Telween paid no heed. His slicer droid had already hacked into the cargo ships' computers, and they now knew the direction to head to find Bastion. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> We have found her...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

<!--EZCODE HTML START--> <font color="yellow"><!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Bastion<!--EZCODE BOLD END--> - A dead celestial body on an extreme elliptical orbit near the Septera System. About as large as a small moon, this atmosphere-less body serves as an anchor point for Imperial Salvage Operations Ltd. The fields of dead starship frames and hulls (of all shapes, sizes and make) surrounded this moon in surprisingly good order. The moon itself was really too small to be attached to any official manifest, but it served it's purpose well.

It's only claim to fame is the myth that the Empire housed it's capital there. This being believed by many (shall we say) lessor beings, the Salvage Co. always found themselves with unexpected visitors. This, of course, made the salvage company very happy for, strangely enough, the Imperial Navy protects it's holdings fiercely. More often than not, one of the field's inventory of metal deposits is increased exponentially.</font><!--EZCODE HTML END-->



"Well I'll be damned," Mr. Conrad said aloud as the computer navigation charts were checked. "Not as mythical as I thought.."

His eyes grew thoughtful.. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> If we could buy a portion of the holdings, Durasteel sales could see another profit..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


<!--EZCODE HTML START--> <font color="yellow">Bastion - Coordinates: 100.246.793.759</font><!--EZCODE HTML END-->

He turned to the Captain, and raised an eyebrow, "Does the Empire keep it's capital in a salvage yard?"

The Captain looked at him and answered, "Yes, yes...protected by a dead fleet and defended by the souls of Sith.."

Mr. Conrad laughed at the Captain's dry joke. He turned out a view port to watch the Imperial Navy too to Destrillion and Dubrillion what they had done with every other planet in the Empire....Enforce Imperial Protocols and Procedures.

The tiny flashes of light flickered a ways off as some transports carrying contraband tried to escape.

It was really on surprise for when Admiral Hyfe secured the planet, there was found a criminal organization. Upon learning of their existence, he destroyed them completely.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Some people thought they could still get away with things.. never realizing that the Empire changes all that..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

"Serves them right," he muttered and toasted the dying transports.


-----------


"TK-736193...Report to your post... Repeat, report to your post..


---------


<!--EZCODE QUOTE START--><blockquote>Quote:<hr> "We are almost to Bastion right, Sir?"<hr></blockquote><!--EZCODE QUOTE END-->

The pilot looked at the newbie, irritated that the man couldn't stay still.

But, in the end he merely sighed and nodded. "The sooner I unload my cargo, the better I will feel... this salvage has been a sore sight at my office for years.."

The pilot never did like the salvage run... the floating ball of rock named Bastion had no shoreleave facilities to speak of and there was the damned wait.

Two hundred kilometers from the moon a long line of cargo ships had come before, awaiting their chance to drop off their inventory and scram.

Sith knows why the salvage yard is so organized but the rather strong Navy presence provided necessary aid in inspecting varying cargos.


<!--EZCODE QUOTE START--><blockquote>Quote:<hr> "What's with all the ships?<hr></blockquote><!--EZCODE QUOTE END-->


the man asked again.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> What's with all the questions?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

The Empire, being fully under Martial Law, protected it's resources well...even salvage (though a bit more protocol was used here than elsewhere)..

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Some of the vessel hulls brought in are really exotic... and then there's the occasional nitwit hoping to stumble upon an Imperial Capital... damned myth..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

He responded testily..

<!--EZCODE QUOTE START--><blockquote>Quote:<hr> "Imperial pilots go out and pick up the merchant ships, bring them into Bastion..then bring them out after erasing the logs and data banks. We need to keep supplies up you know?"<hr></blockquote><!--EZCODE QUOTE END-->

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Poor bastards are stuck there 24/7...with hardly any contact with the outside world. Of course, they had their wrecks and considered each an adventure to explore.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

The man left again (the one asking the stupid questions)

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Must have a damned bladder problem. I should charge for restroom use. Sith knows he must be stinking it up..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

Occassionally a transport was seized and destroyed but those that unloaded their cargo were escorted back to Authorized Ports of Call.



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

<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Helska II<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->


"Sir? I am getting something on the scanners.. Something that shouldn't be there.."

Goland Type IV Station (sometimes referred too as a battlestation though more of a science station) sat at the edge of the Septera System when their blips went wild.

"No one goes to Helska II.." an authoritative voice boomed.
"Why don't they think why we have not settled the planet?"


Helska II's radiation levels were off the charts as it was the Imperial testing grounds of superweapons.

"Better get a hospital ship out there stat.. They've already been exposed far too much for far too long.." the voice stated.

A communication's officer retreived her book and her eyes widened at the markings coming back..

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Rogue Empire?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

"Attention Rogue Imperial Star Destroyer. You are in restricted airspace,.. surrender immediately!" came her cry.

"If they will surrender and allow us to board perhaps there may be a chance.." someone was saying.

------

Telween began to notice all sensitive systems shorting out and crewmen beginning to die..

-------


<!--EZCODE HTML START--> <font color="yellow"><!--EZCODE BOLD START--> excerpt from letter to Office of the Regent<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->


Paragraph 48, subsection B:

CODENAME: BASTION (named after salvage moon)

Imperial Capital Planet original name to be erased and all coordinate/navigational information never to be recorded on military craft.

The 5 year project to make the Imperial Capital self sustaining has begun to pay off. Naturally, this does not meet all required needs, therefore special dispensation is extended to transport carriers under complete control of Imperial Intelligence. Such carriers will originate at only one authorized port of call (classified).

No cyphers, data transfers or communications (encrypted or otherwise) is to be channelled through Imperial Intelligence relay (location classified).

Non-Imperial units and commercial interests are to remain within authorized (for them) ports of call. Any deviation will result in immediate destruction.


Section G:....</font><!--EZCODE HTML END-->



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


Denar found himself staring at the smallest moon he'd every seen. Imperial TIE fighters were in great numbers here overseeing the massive salvage operation, which is what this was... The moon was pitted and scarred but he could tell the tiny lights of living quarter domes.

The floating debris anchored a specific way on the small planetoid of Bastion went on for miles..

Either way, this could not definitely be the "capital"..


The TIE's were scanning the transport and suddenly a transmission broke through the comm.

"Attention: Freighter - Hazardous material scanned on vessel.. Tibanna gas canisters to be deposited immediately or further entry into salvage unloading area will be prohibited.

Failure to comply will result in your immediate arrest and vessel impoundment."


The pilot slammed his hands against a consol. "Dammit! We are carrying any Tibanna Gas!!"

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> I don't need this..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


And then it struck him.. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> The new guys?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


"Attention TIE 3920, I may have possible smuggler..will advise.."


And the convoy was halted while extra fighters arrived on the scene.

"Open up in there, open up in there!"

Denar's eyes widened and he turned to face the now tense Jack. They'd been found. He clutched the storm trooper rifle he'd stolen from the slain troop, and checked the power pack, it was on full. Flicking off the safety clip, he hunched himself behind a box, waiting for the storm trooper to come through, he'd be coming right next to the tibanna gas shipment. Bring it you assholes.

There was a short, tenuous pause, and then the door combusted into flames, and four of the white armored soldiers bursted through, this was only wave one they knew.

Jack was the first to shoot, taking down one of them with a brief flurry of shots, then the next one went down by the younger agent's gun fire. The remaining two storm troopers returned fire, and the two ducked out of the way to let the seering blasts race over their heads just barely, then Denar leapt up again and began ripping at his weapon.

Jack focused his fire on the one hiding behind the crate nearest the door, as was Denar until it decided to return fire and he was forced to duck. It went on like this for several moments until finally Denar leapt up and swifted his weapon to rapid fire, tearing open the box and the storm trooper behind it. The second soldier tried to take advantage of this and took more shots, but Denar managed to leap out of the way and return the fire. Though a small victory, Denar knew more storm troopers would be on the way.


******************************************************


Telween had been informed of the radioactive ways attempting to penetrate the hull, and apparently it had begun affecting the droids toward the bow, but with a quick reallocation of shields, all was fine.

He watched as the fighters were launched to intercept, and as the navigation droids submitted the word, they knew where to head out. Helska II was merely a....detour.

"We'll be launching in three..two...one," and thus the El Dorado was off toward Bastion, but only after Telween had sent the signal and coordinates to the Rogue Imperial Manifest Headquarters.

As the stars streaked into their blurring lines then the spiraling blue tunnel. The frequencies returned quickly.

"Roger Admiral Telween we are launching our assault fleet now."

Telween let a grin form onto his face. It was happening.

The Imperial shuttle docked with the transport and soldiers came aboard. As they made their way toward the back of the ship, they found a door locked.

"Open up... open up in there.." one trooper shouted.

"Keep it down TK-2344, they're may not be anyone in there after all.." a companion started.

"Well you never know Sarge.." another commented as he began to work with a cutting torch.

In no time the door was open, (though the trooper knew that the transport owner would have a fit), and they entered..

..only to be met with dead blaster fire.


The spies dispatched the unsuspecting troopers without much effort but when another few arrived, the leader looked at the opening and turned to the others.

Holding out a hand, he was given a stun grenade .. several in fact and he lobbed them (with a short timer) into the room.

They had the desired effect when they entered afterward finding the two spies' bodies unconcious. Every trooper stunned the bodies out of spite with their weapons once more and went about the duty of attending to the bodies of their fallen comrades.


The tibanna gas was located, ejected and destroyed.

"Salvage Moon Bastion prohibits your entry.." and the transport's pilot let out a low moan.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> All because of stupid spies...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


The transport was escorted to Dubrillion and the spies incarcerated.


*********

<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Helska II<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->

"What the frell are those idiots doing!!" shouted the man with the authoritative voice.


"Attention intruder. You are ordered to surrender your vessel and report to the nearest hospital ship... Do not enter further in.. repeat do NOT--" the woman turned to the man.

"They've shut us out sir."

"Damn Fools!!"

"Their shields are going up... probably in response to the radiation.."

"DAMN!!" the man roared. "DON'T THEY KNOW THE BLOODY AREA IS A WEAPONS TESTING GROUND?? DONT' THEY KNOW THE FRIGGIN AREA IS A DEAD ZONE??"

"Apparently not, or they just don't care.." another person offered, not wild about the idea of speaking to the boss when he was in this mood.

"Sir. .they are launching.. fighters?"



The normal radiation spectrums had been blocked by the shields of the Star Destroyer but the ship still continued on it's coarse, going deeper into the "dead zone"..

The fighters that were unwisely launched had no such protection and their pilots were killed instantly..

Squadrons of fighters drifted in the wake of the Destroyer's path as it seemed to be searching for something..


If the radiation had begun to affect the droids in the bow of the ship, imagine what the highly charged nutrinos began to do as the Destroyer moved through them.

The shield's not being able to block these subatomic particles, they passed through the hull of the ship killing people instantly and scrambling computers and.. and..


droids..


specifically, navigation droids.


When the droid finally offered it's coordinates, the captain of the vessel did not double check their accuracy but in his excitement sent the information to some waiting comrades and entered hyperspace himself on the same vector.


The random coordinates provided by the affected navigation droid threw the Rogue Empire ISD into the gravity mass of an astroid field at the edge of the galaxy, far away from Empire space..


No sooner than they arrived, the Rogue Empire fleet aslo emerged and were immediately struck by the floating rocks of the field.


It was indeed happening....


Asteroids = 49
TRE = 0


But why Telween was smiling was anybody's guess..


********

"The ship is gone Sir..." the tracking monitors in the Helska system reported and the man with the authoritative voice sighed.

"Recall the hospital ships. They were too far in anyway to be of any use to that intruder. Did we get a make on it?"


"Markings indicated, Rogue Empire.."

"Rogue Empire?" the man mulled over that for a while but then more important...more immediate things took his attention.

They were, after all, monitoring any traffic into the Helska dead zone, and Imperial Testing Grounds...


"Report our findings to the local Imperial Intelligence and Regional Commander in the area. They will want to know.."

"Aye Sir.."

And the tracking station went about it's business..

"Sir we had to back track a bit, but now we're back on course," the vice of the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> El Dorado<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> reported as the ship came veering back out of hyperspace.

"I see, have we taken any damage?" Telween demanded as his eyes adjusted to the new light from the subspace.

"None that I've noticed, but we lost a few droids down there, we're running a radiation check on the crewman on the hangar bay just incase, we'll have 'em cleaned up if they're infected."

"Excellent," Telween still did not turn his head from the drastic sight he saw. Bastion was not the great palace he'd thought it was. It was not a second Coruscant, instead it was a horrendous backwater ship graveyard. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> This is the Imperial Center? They have no pride left do they?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

Judging by the presented IFF codes of the fighters encircling the Imperial incoming star liners, and the cruisers and warships they had around the walls of dead ships.

"Ok, well, do we have proof this is indeed Bastion?" Telween asked accusingly.

"Aye sir, these are the coordinates transmitted to us by the Tibanna Gas shipment, as well as the comm link device sent by the spies. Besides, it matches holographs of the meeting Leia had with Admiral Pellaeon."

The grand admiral stroked his now growing beard, for his fourty nine years of life he'd never planned on actually seeing Bastion...and now he was the pioneer to find it.

"We have incoming!" shouted one of the radar boys, mentioning that TIEs had been launched and were inbound for the Rogue Imperial Star Destroyer.

"Attention Rogue Imperial Star Destroyer, this is Imperial High Command," came a heavily accented Imperial officer over the head set. "You are hereby ordered to stand down or face the consequences of your actions."

Telween narrowed his eyes dangerously. He had already charged the shields, and now the cannons were beginning as wel. "Prepare the cannons for combat, is the fleet almost here?"

"ETA is nine minutes."

"Ok then...get ready," Telween braced himself, soon he would have to get ready for the unbalancement known as combat.



****************************************************


Denar chopped his lips slightly as his eyes twinkled open. They were sore from the stun baton, and he could not remember much beyond when he began taking down the storm troopers. His taste buds riddled with the sour taste of bacta, and his head was throbbing from the stun bolts of the wrathful soldiers.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Where am I?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> Feeling the concrete bed he lay on told him he was no doubt in an Imperial holding cell. Denar sat up and looked around, there was little in the likes of comfort, and a strange power like shield was preventing him from exitting the cell.

There were two storm troopers per cell and no doubt they would stop him if he somehow managed to override the power cells.

"Where is Jack?" he asked, but to no one inparticularly.

"Quiet down in there," one of the storm troopers demanded, barely turning his head as if the prisoner showed no importance.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> I have to contact the admiral, we've found Bastion<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> he thought to himself, but knew there was no way to do so. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> I hope Jack is ok...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->



***************************************************



"What do you mean he was captured?" Rasanok screamed at his commander, who had just informed him of his little brother's incarsiration by the Empire. "They're going to tortureo him! The Empire doesn't have the same no harm to prisoner policy we do! We have to rescue him!"

"Lieutenant calm yourself," Colonel Grutin ordered. "We will rescue him soon, last reports indicate the only logical place he can be is Dubrillion or Dustrillion. We will send a rescue party as soon as we have the available forces." A knot creviced itself into Rasanok's throat that he tried to gulp down but could not, and tears began splinting down his cheek.

"<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Dammit<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> Colonel! That's my brother down there!!"

The back of Grutin's leather gloved hand found its way against Rasanok's cheek, ending his shouting abruptly.

"You think I don't know that? We will send someone down there to help, but right now we just can't, at the moment we are too heavily occupied with Imperial assaults. If you wait a little bit, we can rescue him, screaming now will do you no good."

Rasanok glared between his scrunching tears. "Damn you Colonel."

"You are dismissed Lieutenant!" Rasanok wasted no time, and exitted the door behind him, slamming it and shaking the awards hanging up in the office.

<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Rogue Salvage Moon - Bastion<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->



"What's the bloody excitement?" asked Vern, the "Keeper of the Ships".

The Bastion installation was his project and while others may scoff at the rather run down maintenance and administration domes on an airless, dead moon...which seemed to drift around no apparent star, he called it home.


This was <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> his<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> little bit of the Empire.


The Empire only nominally protected the salvage yards since the facility had no strategic value and was surrounded by....well..


junk.


Two TIE wings were the whole of Bastion's defense and so far, that usually would be all they needed.


On occasion a Star Destroyer would do training exercises or drills before heading to the weapons testing grounds on Helska II.


When the alarms sounded about an invading ISD, Vern was sure the communications handler was addled.


But sure enough, scarred, scratched and bearing the banner of The Rogue Empire..

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Whatever the hell that is..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

Vern was on the hind edge of space and wasn't up to date on galactic news.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> What in the blazes to they want?<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


He started emergency procedures just the same and locked down the inventory core for the salvage operation.

Every relic was in his database and he'd know if something were stolen.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Damn thieves!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->