For an organization whose catch phrase when attempting to convince others of their own legitimacy was "We're Uniting The Galaxy", The New Order seemed love to rip the galaxy apart. With annoying frequency, they made their pestering attempts at what could only be considered as satiating their own meglomaniacy. It was puzzling, how such a group could convince others of benevolent intentions, when so many of their malevolent plots involved oppresion and the murder of innocents.

But Gash Jiren reminded himself that such moral struggles were something for scholars, safe in ivory towers, to compute. He was a warrior, a protector; and this was anything but the time to debate the morality of the New Republic's methods of life-saving.

He'd been part of the Defence Council's convention on possible Imperial assaults; indeed, he'd been the one to propose the idea of an immediate retaliatory strike, in the event of an attack on one of the New Republic's worlds, or those of it's allies. Now, the predicted assault had come to pass.

The New Order was easy to predict, because of it's innate intention; galactic domination. While the Republic was content with bringing new worlds into the fold by peaceful means and never having contact with the remnants of the Empire, the Empire itself had every desire and intention of utterly annhilating the Republic.

But that wasn't going to happen; not on the watch of Gash Jiren or Xylon Hexyra.

Like a call for an all-rise at a Republic Senate meeting, the officers and soldiers alike rose from their seats and came to a state of attention as Gash entered the bridge of his command vessel. The Jedi Master had repeatedly expressed his uncomfortability with the ritual, and motioned for them to sit, and most did. The Captain of the vessel saluted him.

"I've told you, Captain, you don't need to stand when I enter."

'We did it anyway.'

"Insubordination?"

'After a fashion. The fleet is nearing it's exit from hyperspace. We've located a large asteroid on the edge of the system, which is on a lazy ellyptical orbit around the star. When we detect the mass shadow, we will revert from hyperspace. It should give us enough time to effectively organize the fleet. All according to your orders, Admiral.'

"Good."

Gash turned to glance, wordlessly, out the transparisteel barrier which separated him and his crew from the endless, cold abyss outside. The swirrling blue streaks of hyperspace cascaded magnificently, and then vanished abruptly.

"Captain?"

The competant officer checked with his communcations and sensor officers before replying with the stalward confidence of a true military man.

'All is well, sir. The fleet has reverted successfully.'

The enigma of space: a flower whose bloom is infinite and everlasting. Turbulent egos engulf the untainted innocence, and so adaptation glints to reform its flaws, wading in the singular hope that the animosity will all disappear. To its dissuasion, the repetition beats onward. In the subtlest tremor, another dimension to the paradox forms in unison to true colors bursting ahead of the old. Soon, one discovers that nothing is true or finite, as does the galaxy tick without an alarm to hinder its rest.

Nonetheless, many have dedicated their lives to fight the bleak cause. In a darkness matching only the ashes of its fuel, there has and will always be a dim light altering the conception of its domination. No matter the hatred resonating of the dark, the light will forever reign higher. May the fickle dark always remain dark, and may the fickle light always remain light. Now a speck of burden, soon a sea of majesty; nothing enters sleep wrapped in vain.



An eerie silence swept like a cotton broom across the isles of the “Jenova”. Eyes laden with fantasies of victory, silence wrought the souls of the mother’s children. Their hearts had been released to shame on the anticipation of death or flawless glory in their previous encounter. But this time, it would be different…this time, they knew their time had come.

Extracting the shear horror of their allies’ frizzled voices while hunched over the relay post of an arbitrary distress call, they found their consciouses detained without warning. “Reprehensible!” some shouted; “They’ll pay for this!” others chimed in clarification. Yet some simply mourned quietly, as though the circumstances had become all too familiar (and, in retrospect, they had). Their eyes shed no tears, but a blatant heart loomed heavy within the depths of their chests. Vengeance was imminent. Having elapsed hours ago, the flare burned just as brightly.

And, what’s more, there were those who bustled unconsciously as if it were any other day of paperwork and review. If one were to supplement a plating coat and a monotonous accent, little would rise that separated one from the common droid. Although efficient on several occasions, the absence of spirit depressed the “melodramatics” at times. Ironically, the veterans of space evolved into those very drones subsequent to exposure of loss and deprivation. Rendering them prized assets to any logical navy, these stoics fought each day not for the present, yet rather the past. Their lack of expression resembled the strength of a sword over any word: no more, no less. These…these were men of war.



Outlined in a remote black and sketched onto the eyes of an eager crew, a spherical shape forming the azure of blue drifted forward. One in the same, an object of beauty and grace it would have been, if not for dingy Imperial war centers having lined its independent glory with atrocious instinct. It influenced one to wonder why vigilant hearts squandered existence on an asset to which no one was worthy. Yet whichever way the wind blew, the fight was more real than the quandaries of it.

The aftermath of acknowledging the heavenly sight’s presence bore far less serenity as seen in the days before. The feeling of reality had hit the musing band of crewmembers, and so the exhilaration of the moment erupted underneath the mask of sweat and goose bumps.

“Designated vectors pinpointed and confirmed!”

“Sentinel and auxiliary-sentinel systems prepped and on the look-out! We’ll map the Imperial buggers’ defensive flanks before they can think ‘em!”

“Jammin’ area comm. arrays now! Nutin’ is gettin’ passed us!”

“Naval batteries and shield arrays charging…they’ll be up in a net time of 5 Corellian chrono. increments! Axial pivots are spiffed and shinin’ bright!”

That had only been the beginning of it. After their frontiersmen, many shouted ordinary statistics as though the battle’s outcome rested upon their independent shoulders…not far from the truth. Not bad for those quite possibly marked for death. They were all in the same boat of deception and wary potentials, and that, alone, would be their connection to resurrect a spirit of unison.

And then there was Xylon. “The original stoic,” or so the rumor spread throughout the joyless hallways. With an eye contact matching the grip of death, itself, the troubled soul’s public appearance never surpassed the basic word of “profound.” When presented with the class of profoundness, even fewer bothered to ask. Some gawked at the freedom his demeanor entailed, and others understood in a subliminal sort of way. When isolated and left to rest at the norm, a strange glimmer of content sent waves through his dark pupils before fading into their tedium once again. So was life: the recurrence became a soothing familiarity with the wear and tear of time.

But now…it was war. Emotion emitted only loss in this quintessential fight for the right to life. The most stolid of idles retrogressed to a primitive exhilaration, Grand Commander Hexyra included. Carnage, and its addicting cohorts, rampaged over all at one instance or another; regardless the cause asserted, everyone fought simply to kill. Therefore sat Xylon ablaze with as much fury as any other --

“Gem Divisions one through three report.”

Soon after, the buzzes of lights and transmissions flickered for a second time. Expecting the implied responses minutes before, he continued without verification.

“Your weapons, shields, and jamming arrays should be charged and activated as we speak. If not, do so now. I want our Rotational-Triaps pattern formed around the flag as nexus point 1a. Each axis and its complemented front are to rotate clockwise at a speed of 3 MGLT, and are to revert to counter-clockwise at an increment of my mark. Minute cruisers are to gather amongst the larges on each of the three lines forming a triangle around the “Jenova,” and power exchange may be distributed when needed. Know that this should be review, and it is appropriate to address the tutorial archive for depth.”

Having paused momentarily to lay scrutiny upon the murmurs discharging from below, he shortly followed his address.

“Begin system-jamming runs and prepare the members of your fighter bays. Planetary strike vector alpha is soon to rise…commence bombardment on my mark. And…good luck.”

Looming from an oblong desk beneath the ironically low navigational post, a short, blonde-haired lieutenant coughed lightly as to request speaking permission. Cutting the net transmission as jamming effects took their toll, Xylon took a subtle nod in instruction.

“Sir…before the defcon instills battle condition, are there anymore preliminary orders?”

“Charge the Chief Super-Laser…prepare to fire at strike vector gamma. Path cleared, remember. No need for a second, this time.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

[center]

(I'm a Jedi.)
(The thought was the first to enter Ahnk's mind. The shuttle trip of course was nothing special but it allowed Ahnk time to think, of the meeting ahead.)
(I'm a Jedi, boarding a Eclipse Class Star Destroyer, which can crush worlds in a single shot.)
(Who would have thought.)
(Later, Ahnk walked onto the bridge and immediatly went to the comm station.)
"If you would, please open a comm frequency on channel 24.76.44.17 and leave it open for me."
(The crewer did it without hesitation, as it was easy and not likely to cause problems.)
(With that resolved, Ahnk found Hexadragon.)
"I have something to tell you. I have seen this battle but it's outcome is gray... too many variables... this is a battle I do not think we can win."
(He turned then.)
"What species are you, Xylon?"

EDIT: -Removed sentence relating to Gash. Note that he's not aboard the ESD. Feel free to incorporate anything else; the edit will temporarily prevent confusion.

(Reversion.)
(Exel hated hyperspace reversions. They weren't smooth in any way. He always felt he could feel the reversions... like the ship were shunted, shaken... as if the space around it were bumping it. Like heavy splashes of water when too near land... and Exel always reverted close to large gravitational forces... planets, or epic fleets. Always a shudder... but he knew it was only in his mind, perhaps... some kind of per-game jitter. Anyways, he always pushed it aside and moved on. He saw the fleet ahead, stationed behind a large asteroid. The ships in his task force began swiftly moving to pass... the cruisers could get close to the New Order ships and drop ordinence while cloaked, and the Carriers should be equal with the New Republic fleet to pool fighters. The Home Ship would need to pass the ESD, and Exel had corordinates to move swiftly over it at a range that would not stress either vessel's shields. In short, order was good, and he knew his fleet was prepared.)
(Immediatly, he walked smoothly to the comm. He gestured to the screen.)
"Usual frequency please."
(The keyboard of the comm operator clacked as he dialed up the normal battle frequency TSB... he had never liked ISOS, he was an Empire man... that Ahnk had no doubt secured.)
"Balls enough to challenge the New Order? Too bad you didn't manage to get them up in one life time."
(The few snickers that erupted died very quickly under his cold stare.)
"I am vigilent."
"As is the New Order."
(A brief pause came as Ahnk considered.)
"We shall see."
(He turned to the moniter.)
"And you... what of our prized Shadionic Cannon?"
(The delay was slightly longer as the translator worked between the languages, Exel's basic and the one of the mutilated and scarred face before him.)
[We retain sufficent energy after hperspace jump to charge all shields, ionic disruptor cannons, and the Shadow Cannon.]
"Do so immediatly."
(He turned to another visual feed.)
"Carrrier status?"
"Carrrier has arrived. Awaiting lauch orders."
"Hold fighters. Power engines... begin to move."
"Para ma kha fore set."
"On your own time. No more irrelevant comm messages, all of you."
(He walked back to the beginning of the comm station.)
"All ships report prescense and confirm one hundred percent capacity."
(Ahnk smiled, unseen.)
"That is good news."
"Do you have apprehension about this coming battle?"
"Yes."
"Wise, you are. It is uncertain in many terms."
"How many reserve fleets do you think the New Order will bring?"
"My tactical estimate would say three. One, no doubt, is enroute now. I believe another will be delayed. They are likely engaged somewhere... it is a time of war."
"And the third?"
(Exel smiled.)
"Already here. I imagine the New Order has fleet of cloaked ships surrounding us even now... or perhaps battleships on the dark side of the moon."
"Keep an eye on the scanner readings."
"Always."
"And happy hunting."
"Oh, this will indeed be fun."
(Exel smiled wider. Buisness was about to pick up.)

OOC: The fleet manifest.



Massassi Home Ship

Massassi Carrier: Gantrithor
Massassi Carrier: Torrasque

41 Dinafet Cruisers

318 TIE Interceptor Squadrons
388 TIE Droid Squadrons



Dominator Class Star Destroyer: Gue's Legacy

Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Darkwaters' Destiny
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Benoit's Bludgeon
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Cloutier's Cannon
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Anderson's Anvil
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Gizmo's Gallantry
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Fedorov's Fury
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Wuhrer's Weapon
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Jericho's Javilen
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Helmsly's Heavy Hammer
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: McMahon's Masterpiece
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: The Lance of Longval
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Swanson's Sword
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Lance's Storm
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Tazz
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Morpheus' Magic
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Raven's Revenge
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Jannisery Jansen
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Nicholas' Nightmare
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Duran's Dance
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Tassadar's Time
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Ryan's Righteous Relic
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Chrono's Cross
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Jungle Jovanoski
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Lichter of Linden
Imperial Class Star Destroyer: Mason's Murder

Victory Class Star Destroyer: Chadd Phoe
Victory Class Star Destroyer: Brian Cobra
Victory Class Star Destroyer: Claire Marzullo
Victory Class Star Destroyer: Lucas Fearson
Victory Class Star Destroyer: Julian Ceel

11 Interdictor Cruisers

A sleek and petite crimson robed figure appeared to glide through the bridge blast doors of the <!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Jenova<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->, startling two officers near the door who had not even been aware of the woman's presence on the ship until now. They jerked to attention in deference to her rank. This sudden appearance nothing short of bewildered them. The Jenova was a very large ship. But even then, usually everyone would have known if, she... was aboard. And so they were surprised not necessarily because she was there, but by the fact that nobody had known. Or had neglected to make it very widely known. She waved them back to whatever they were doing distractedly.

Leia Organa Solo had been enjoying her short stint of quiet and anonymous solitude on the Genova, her presence unknown to just about everyone on the ship. But now she had to break it. Important events were upon the Republic now.

She remained silent, looked around the bridge for something or someone. Her appearance was deceptive. A calm composure and a cool gaze measured everyone that came into it's focus levelly, but inside... many thoughts were at work.

Her gaze halted on Xylon and Ahnk, conversing halfway across the bridge of the gargantuan warship. There was something different about Ahnk, she could feel it. Then it registered in her mind that she had heard he wasn't a Sith anymore... that explained that.

Thinking back Leia couldn't recall whether or not Hex had even been aware of her presence on this ship for this mission. Oh well, time to find out.

She stopped a few paces behind both of them, caught the end of Ahnk's statement, carried right on with it.

"...And most all of the greatest and most unanticipated victories... come from settings just like these..."

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> To those in the upper echelons of the New Order, the entire concept of the pathetic "New Republic" was conceived as rather contradictory. If the hate for them hadn't been so deeply rooted, some might even go so far as to call it amusing.

A Republic... a caring people... who's goal was to "bring new worlds into the fold" by peaceful means, as the politicians had chosen so delicately put it. In the eyes of those who are not blinded by the New Republic's prosperous past: galactic domination.

"Content on peacefully bringing new worlds into the fold." Oh, how very amusing indeed. These respected people, peacefully expanding their domain and amassing an enormous war machinge, considered by many as easily one of the most powrful in the galaxy. This New Republic, with its mammoth fleets and experienced war commanders... who's mightiest beast in their ever-growing war machine was an Eclipse-Class Star Destroyer: a 17 kilometer warship designed with destruction in mind, along with the frightening of the masses into submission. No different that the Empire's original Death Stars. A symbol of power.

Truthfully, the goal off ALL struggling factions in this galaxy was to obtain power. "Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely", it had been said. The New Republic often used this phrase in reference to the mighty Empire during the Rebellion era. And now... with their symbols and demonstrations of their growing might, one was brought to wonder just what course these New Republic fools were following. How then, were these people, keeping their faces hidden behind masks of lies, any different than the mighty Empire? The biggest difference is that the New Order is not afraid to admit their goal: to unite the galaxy under their hand. And the pathetic New Republic mocked these words, going about the same quest, but refusing to acknowledge it, and construing their proceedings with acts of deception.

Yes, deception. A word far too commonly used to describe a "peaceful" people, who's claim to fame was that they would "protect" the galaxy. It could be wondered if the New Alliance felt "protected" when they were deceitfully maneuvered into doing these "peacekeepers" biddings. Or perhaps the New Alliance was still fooled by the deceptive masks as well.

Either the New Republic was fully aware of their change in morals and were simply using their manipulative ways to deceive the galaxy as to their true goal, or the empty-minded fools had been unwittingly seduced by this craving for power, and were unaware of the change that had befallen them. Either way, this malevolent New Republic was perhaps more of a threat now than ever before. A threat that would be eliminated by those who could still see quite clearly... even in darkness.

Yes, Imperial Intelligence had been quite right. The New Order had taken the bait, but this prey was, perhaps, not as predictable as was thought. And so, in turn, the hunter had taken theirs.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->



<!--EZCODE CENTER START--><!--EZCODE CENTER END-->


<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> 30 seconds after New Republic ships exited hyperspace... Communications base<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->


"Did it make it?" the apprehensive voice of the officer in charge of communications at base 22C4 on Dantooine asked, worry seeping into his heavy-hearted words.

There was no response for a moment, as if the comms officer was taking extra time to be absolutely sure.

"I – no. No, sir," answered the young blonde-haired man seated at the comms terminal ominously. "But TNO forces are just minutes away, sir! Perhaps if we..."

"We have no hyperdrive capable scout ships, crewman. And all larger craft are secured in dry dock repair or construction," the Lieutenant remarked stubbornly.

Comms base 22C4 was the primary outpost in the entire northern hemisphere of Dantooine. The emergency distress beacon prepared for such occasions had been broadcasted immediately after the exit of enemy craft.

But it hadn't been quick enough.

"Have all sectors been alerted?" the gaunt-faced Lieutenant inquired.

"Of course, sir. Battle encrypt rooms are already being staffed, and the officers on duty have taken command of the situation in the primary war room."

"Very good," the Lieutenant replied, a dull somberness now having taken control of his emotions.



<!--EZCODE CENTER START--><!--EZCODE CENTER END-->


<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> 2 minutes later... On-planet war coordination room<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->

Captain Farok, former Captain of the Imperial-Class Star Destroyer <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Triton<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, and recently assigned commander of Dantooine defenses (or lack thereof), stared at the enhanced visual display, eyes laden with doubt.

Some 92 New Republic craft had exited hyperspace near a 14 kilometer long asteroid, in the outskirts of Dantooine space, only a few klicks within sensor range.

Immediately the craft had begun forming a complex attack formation, not programmed into any of the records Farok had on hand.

And he was expected to command the defense forces of Dantooine against this massive assault. The trouble was... he had no forces.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Intelligence had been able to predict the New Republic's assault... but even they could not know with a certainty WHERE they would strike.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

A grim smile had formed on Farok's uncertain face. New Order High Command had informed all planetary defense coordinators as to the suspected New Republic assaults, and exactly how such an assault would be handled.

But no one had expected that the distress beacon would not get through in time...

"Sir..." a resonating voice spoke from his rear, and Farok turned at once to acknowledge the speaker. "The New Republic Eclipse is charging their superlaser weapon..."

Farok cleared his throat.

"Time until enemy ships come within range of our shipyards?"

"If they maintain formation... less than 5 minutes now, sir," the young officer informed him timidly.

Captain Farok nodded.

New lights flashed and a buzzing warning was emitted from the primary Battle Analysis Computer holographic display screen. Upon inspection, it could be seen that another fleet of 80 some ships (nearly as large as the first wave of craft) had just emerged from hyperspace behind the NR craft.

Farok didn’t think he could withstand much more.

He found that he suddenly needed to brace himself with the old-fashioned BAC module protruding from the floor to keep upright.

"Uh.. – sir...?" an officer questioned.

The Captain looked to him, vision blurred.

"Hmm? Fine, Rautha... I'm fine."

"Yes, sir." Commander Grigmon-Rautha responded hesitantly.

Farok let the BAC unit support him, and he let his head roll backwards to stare up at the ceiling, contemplating. Several moments later, he brought his gaze back down to the war room.

"Is operation SA-ILU a go?" the Captain questioned, speaking to no one in particular.

"Confirmation has not yet been received, Captain Farok," a dark skinned Lieutenant responded.

"Then we wait for a miracle," Farok said in monotone. "For the Empire, gentlemen."

The call came back to him in agreement from the officers throughout the war room: "For the Empire."

"They had a what?" came an exclaim of utter surprise.

Simon allowed a slight grin to spread across his features.

"A convention."

"Damned religious rabble," the older man on the communications monitor muttered, though there was no real hostility in his voice.

"It makes them predictable at any rate," Kaine commented not necessarily disagreeing.

The graying, rather portly man leaned forward, "I would wager my home that The New Alliance's aggressive expansion was not discussed!"

The General laughed. "Of course not, Kryschen. It was your typical 'woe-is-us, down-with-the-Empire, tighten-our-hold-on-Coruscant, Jedi-infighting, allocate-more-dark-troopers' meeting."


The older man sobered, "Propaganda can hurt, Simon."

"Only if people believe it, Kryschen. Only if people believe it. Since the New Republic's aborted attack on Muunilist, the Empire has remained quiet. We haven't held any ridiculous "conventions" about it..."

The older man smiled, "They were trying to yell loud enough to drown out their fear.."

"Be that as it may, we've not scattered hate propaganda of the NR on our system." Kaine held his hands out. "We haven't had too."

"Do you realize, General, that since our arrival into the New Order from Sotel, the Empire has <!--EZCODE BOLD START--> not<!--EZCODE BOLD END--> attacked the New Republic? THEY ATTACKED US!" the older man slamming his hand down on the table in front of him. His voice became harsher, "Why couldn't they bloody hold a convention back then and work within the system to effect change?? But "NO", they <!--EZCODE BOLD START--> had<!--EZCODE BOLD END--> to have their bloody revolution!"

Kryschen looked at Kaine, his eyes emploring, "And when it was over.. When they killed the source of their anger, The Emperor (rest his soul), WERE THEY SATISFIED??!!

Why weren't they happy with their goddamned Utopia?"

"We bled enough for it..." Simon softly spoke and his eyes carried an uncharacteristic warmth. "Peace, Kryschen. The Empire will triumph. By force or by default, we will win."


"You say that with such confidence, Simon. How can you know for sure?"

The General turned aside from the screen, as if picking something up and when his focus came back to Kryschen, he held a book in his hand. Opening it to a marked page, he started to read,


<!--EZCODE CENTER START--><!--EZCODE CENTER END-->


"Poetic," grunted Kryschen.

Simon made a show of reading the title of the literature, "Empire's Shadow". "The New Republic has lost it's focus.. it's reason for existence. Go to any Republic world and this same passage would apply as well. They print this," Simon closed the book placing it down, "To convince themselves that they are different...that they still have a purpose for existing."

The old man grunted.

"Kryschen, the line between Empire and Republic shortens with each month. They forced Coruscant into capitulating to their rule.."

"Not according to their reports."

Kaine laughed, "Intel was there. Tell me Kryschen, do you really think, that the Republic would have simply left if Coruscant said, 'No'? The New Alliance becomes increasingly more despotic with each attack upon another world. There is a dark secret there...you know they like using Rom's toys?"

The older man's eyes widened slightly, "Dark Trooper Project?"

"That's the one."

"Fools! Let me guess, they are for defense?" Kryschen spat out.

"Oh, I wouldn't be surprised."

"They are insane."

"At least they aren't religious like the Republic."

"That's one redeeming quality. I hear the Republic's fleet is led by Ex-Darksiders."

"Yes..yes, they change loyalties faster than you change undergarments. One wonders if <!--EZCODE BOLD START--> they<!--EZCODE BOLD END--> know what they believe anymore."

Simon let out a feral grin, "It frightens the public when one's own leaders don't know what they believe.."

And then he grew serious, "But I tell you this Kryschen, a revolution is coming within the ranks of their Allies. A revolution that will shatter the Republic forever."

The old man eyes looked tired. "..and we come full circle. How many more have to die? This.. this anarchy the galaxy is experiencing.."

"We man the watchtowers, my friend. We fight the good fight."


"Now tell me when you are going to come visit?"


..and Simon suddenly looked amused.

"Garqi is not that far away.. Why did you station your ships there anyway? We have much better port facilities here.."

Kaine laughed.

"Tactics."

"POSH!" Kryschen grumbled for show, causing Simon's smile to widen.

"What p ss ble r a s n co l u -----"


"Kryschen?" The monitor went fuzzy and suddenly the transmission ended. Kaine left the private room and walked out onto the bridge and noted nothing amiss.

"Communications? Get me Dantooine, civilian channel, this terminal key.."

The man started operating his equipment leaving Simon to ponder his conclusions.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Ciscero's words could very well come true.

He remembered the Imperial Intelligence Officer's last visit in which they uncovered the truth about the explosion that nearly cost the life of The NR's Fleet Commander...some weird looking alien. Order of Golgotha...

He remembered the resourceful man turning to him and gave a shadow of a grin, "There is revolution coming General. A revolution that will push our enemies to the brink of their own sanity."

And the New Order?

"We already had our revolution...and we survived. Yet, when rebels fight rebels, who wins?"<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


"General?" the tone of voice brought Kaine back out of his reverie.

"I can't reach Dantooine at all! Civilian channels...Military channels seem nonexistent! "

"Battlestations!" ordered Simon immediately and the thoughts of possible senarios ran through his mind.

"Predictable" he murmured and ordered an officer, "Have the Inqisitor brought to the bridge and send an encrypted message to Command on Muunilist to forward to appropriate allies."


The fleet plotted their course and the <!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Galactus<!--EZCODE BOLD END--> took point.


"Inform Division: Abyss"



..and they were gone..




<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Why Garqi?

Kaine could hear the questions.. even in Kryschen's conversation, Why Garqi?

Such an unnoticeable planet, such a bland planet...even Ciscero had asked.


"It's quite simple." He had flicked on the galactic map and on the surface, Garqi was quite close to Dantooine.

"Between the two, which is more likely to be a target?"

"Dantooine," Ciscero conceded but he did not surrender. "All the more reason to reinforce it with your division."


"Watch and learn Intel man." He pushed a button and the map suddenly took 3 dimensional form. He isolated and enlarged the Dantooine and Garqi systems.

While looking straight down they appeared nearly next to each other. In 3 dimensional form, Ciscero saw that Garqi was so much higher placed.

His eyes never showed any enlightenment but the small smile that played at his lips told Kaine that his point was made.

"Tactics, Intel man.. tactics.."<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->





The entire Sentinel Fleet's 2nd Division exited hyperspace, the three ISD's forming a rather wide "Y" with the RSD being the middle anchor. The Terra Kasar gave the formation a "head" of sorts and the rest of the division seemed to stretch, each spaced for maneuvering but remaining behind the initial "Y".

Someone gasped as the scanners, suddenly being overworked, brought forth the situation in it's uncompromising and cold facts.

The lights of the Invading divisions showed below like sparkles in a lake. Due to Garqi's position, Sentinel's 2nd Divsion was perpendicular to the invading forces.

"Prepare to disperse and fire." Kaine calmly orderd.


The light's movements as the NR pushed forward could have been considered mesmerizing if one forgot their lethal intent.


"For Muunilist and all who died there." He spoke with conviction and checked the chronometer.


"Attack Spheres deploying Devils," one officer reported


"CIP's activating gravity generators," another followed up.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Protecting our flank and undersides as well..<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


"Tactics..." he whispered.






SENTINEL FLEET
Division Two:

Reign-Class Star Destroyer Galactus
Imperial-Class Star Destroyer Herectic
Imperial-Class Star Destroyer Victory
Imperial-Class Star Destroyer - Iron Lance
Attack-Class Carrier Sphere Terra Kasar
Attack-Class Carrier Sphere Argoth
Attack-Class Carrier Sphere Lagoon
Victory-Class Star Destroyer Tsar
Victory-Class Star Destroyer Terror’s Edge
Victory-Class Star Destroyer Ancalagon
Victory-Class Star Destroyer - Rampart
Dreadnaught-Class Cruiser
Dreadnaught-Class Cruiser
Carrack-Class Cruiser
Carrack-Class Cruiser
Carrack-Class Cruiser
Fire-Class Light Cruiser
Fire-Class Light Cruiser
Fire-Class Light Cruiser
Fire-Class Light Cruiser
Fire-Class Light Cruiser
Fire-Class Light Cruiser
Constrainer-Class Interdiction Picket
Constrainer-Class Interdiction Picket
Constrainer-Class Interdiction Picket
Constrainer-Class Interdiction Picket
Constrainer-Class Interdiction Picket
Constrainer-Class Interdiction Picket


*Full compliment of fighters.

“<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Mooreen<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, this is Zebra Leader. We are starting our attack run, over,” static obscured only a portion of the crucial message, as it wound it’s way through space from the swerving Scimitar up into the bridge of the 900 metre Victory Star Destroyer. On that bridge, it was acknowledged, and a confirmation sent back to the pilot.

The from the Scimitar cockpit, Zebra Leader pilot saw the massive bulk of a 40km shipyard rear itself up in front of his bomber. He brought up a tactical display, and saw that the metallic monstrosity was barely 300 metres away now, and closing fast.

His squadron of eleven other TIE Scimitars formed up sparingly around him in three flights, planning to take the run all at once. Zebra Leader was, of course, in the lead, flanked by Zebra’s two and three, whilst Zebra four brought up the rear.

All three flights were positioned in this manner, leaving a gap of roughly 200 metres in between. It would be a close run, but this had to be done, if not for the glory of the Empire than for a chance to get even with the New Republic.

Zebra Leader’s thoughts were solely on the mission as he approached the target. His right hand was locked fast on the control yoke as his left worked the Scimitars other systems, returning now and then to join it’s partner on the stick.

“Zebra’s, this is One Flight, going in,” he said gleefully over the comm., accelerating and moving downward, using the shipyard as a base, and preparing to give the order to launch the bombs that would rain devastation on the sparsely defended shipyard.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Just a few more seconds, and I’ll have you...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

“Zebra Leader, this is <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Mooreen<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, break off your attack run and return to the hangar. I repeat, break your run and return to the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Mooreen<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, over,” the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Mooreen’s<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> comm. officer’s voice cackled through Zebra Leader’s headset, startling him out of his concentration and bringing him back to reality.

“<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Mooreen<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, this is Zebra leader, I copy. Out,” he stared reluctantly as he switched channels to his squadron frequency. “Squadron, this is Zebra Leader. We’re being called back. Break your runs and return to the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Mooreen<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> ASAP. Out.”

Orders issued, he pulled up his Scimitar and put it into a sharp turn that brought it back to bare on the Victory Star Destroyer <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Mooreen<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->. His squadron followed, and calmly filed back into the hangar, leaving the training based around Muunilist’s shipyard for another day.

----------

“Lieutenant, give me see that report,” Tulok scowled, as he reached out his hand once more for the report the Lieutenant held.

“Here, Captain,” he said, handing over the datapad with card inserted once more.

Captain Tulok took it, still scowling. A crewer dodged out of his way as he made pace towards his command chair, situated in the centre of the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Arbitrator’s<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> bridge. He watched steadily as the last TIE’s returned to the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Mooreen’s<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> hangar before casting his eyes downward to re-read the orders.

He now found himself with a quite unexpected field promotion and orders to lead his task force to Dantooine within minutes.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Ahh, Dantooine. So many memories... the last glory, one might say...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

Tulok allowed his mind to drift for a moment as he remembered commanding the task force that took that planet for the New Order. It seemed so long ago to him... and it was. At that battle, he had had the command of the Allegiance Super Star Destroyer <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Pandemonium<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->. That was, of course, before the accident...

Tulok remembered it only too well. Just a simple fall, a fractured skull... and his command.

When he had returned to service, he found the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Pandemonium<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> in the able hands of Davin Essian, whilst Tulok was given the Imperial Star Destroyer <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Arbitrator<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->. Of course, the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Arbitrator’s<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> reputation was astounding, or it would not be the Agrarian’s command ship. Still, he did often miss the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Pandemonium<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->...

His thoughts were quickly interrupted, however, by the Lieutenant who had handed him the datapad earlier.

“Captain, all ships are ready for hyperspace, on your order,” the Lieutenant said, his tone that of stating the obvious.

Tulok looked up, and simply nodded.

The countdown began, and ended, remarkably quickly. The sound of breathing dwarfed all others on the now-silent bridge, even after the jump had been made.

Tulok only had one thought on his mind: redemption.

----------

From out of nowhere, it seemed, the fleet appeared.

One moment there was empty space, the next, twenty-four New Order warships had appeared as if out of nowhere. They immediately moved into formation, Pickets hanging back, Fire Cruisers on the flanks accompanied by Attack Spheres whilst the remaining ships formed a wedge shape seeming to expect to plow through the enemy force.

Tulok’s fleet had come out on the New Republic’s lower-left flank, and was aimed straight at the heart of their forces.

“Activate those Pickets!” Tulok yelled to his bridge in general, knowing that someone would carry out the order with swift ease.

It had begun.

OOC:

<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Agrarian Remote<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->

Imperial-Class Star Destroyer - Arbitrator
Imperial-Class Star Destroyer - Hectic
Imperial-Class Star Destroyer - Logan
Attack-Class Carrier Sphere - Terra Jasar
Attack-Class Carrier Sphere - Terra Basar
Victory Class Star Destroyer – Artanis
Victory Class Star Destroyer – Enmity
Victory Class Star Destroyer – Rhapsody
Victory-Class Star Destroyer - Mooreen
Carrack-Class Cruiser
Carrack-Class Cruiser
Carrack-Class Cruiser
Carrack-Class Cruiser
Carrack-Class Cruiser
Carrack-Class Cruiser
Fire-Class Light Cruiser
Fire-Class Light Cruiser
Fire-Class Light Cruiser
Constrainer-Class Interdiction Picket
Constrainer-Class Interdiction Picket
Constrainer-Class Interdiction Picket
Constrainer-Class Interdiction Picket
Constrainer-Class Interdiction Picket
Constrainer-Class Interdiction Picket

(No.)
(No... something's not right.)
(A cold apprehension came over Ahnk, a manifestation of fear and dread he felt from his days as a Sith. He tried to push it aside... but it surfaced again and again, telling him something was wrong, warning him of incoming doom. He couldn't shake it, so he opened himself to it.)
(Tell me.)
(Tell me... what's wrong?)
(A vision came to his mind. He saw... he saw one of his Massassi soldiers, watching, lights flashing across his face. He was a pilot... behind him, the soldiers, with the coufees he had had bred waited.)
(For what?)
(There was not to be a surface battle.)
(The mission was one of peaceful diplomacy and rescue from tyranny.)
(It didn't add up.)
(All of a sudden, the vision faded.)
(Force... don't fail me.)
(But it only took a second to realize that it was not the vision that failed him, but that the Massassi was gone.)
(Dead?)
(More likely...)
(Moved.)
(They'd moved.)
(Ahnk reached out and felt large gaps in his lines... his cloaked cruisers should be much tighter and far more numberous,)
(Twenty are gone.)
(He felt them nowhere near. The must have slipped back and jumped into hyperspace past the interdiction fields. Curious. Why do such a thing when the rest of his fleet lumbered forward...)
(Lumbered... forward...)
"Shun..."
(It was too late.)
(Too late he saw Exel's Imperialistic ideals. Too late he saw his ambition to lead, to have power. Too late he saw how his turn to the lightside had been solo... Exel and Chang had not told his men. And they followed them, believing... well, the lies they were fed. Too late he saw a blue shimmer on the pitch black hull of the warship Jenova.)
(Almost instantly the ions rendered the shield useless. The radiation began to warm the hull in it's think spots. The very end of the ship sheared off and burnt away, the tip of the massive superlaser. The ions found the breach and spilled inside, radiation warping the focusing crrystals and msssive energey scarring it's mouth. The less resilent pieces of hull continued to shear away while the thicker and more stubborn pieces melted. The ship's front end began to twist inward, buckeling under a steady stream of energy until the Home Ship's generators gave, and the shields and weapons and drive systems all blinked off to take time to recharge. Both ships massive weapons would not fire for some time, unless repairs were done on both ships.)
(The already weakened tip of the massive ship was left without shields and the superlaser couldn't possibly fire, but Ahnk saw that Exel was a perfectionist as usual, and the Dinafet compliment uncloaked and streamed a barrage of torpedoes at the end of the ship. the concentrated fire of about fifty torpedoes continued to damage the already bent and wrecked tip, crushing it inward under the pressure and fusing it with the large amount of heat and energy. No, that laser would definitely require physical repair and most certianly would would not be able to fire unlee it wanted to tear a large part of it's hull away. The cruisers cloaked again, preparing strafing runs no doubt on other larger capital ships.)
(As the torrent of fire ceased, Ahnk fell to his knee's, realizing it was all his fault.)

Situated between his very eyes, a turbulent shower of silver hail lofted through space before tumbling into the “Jenova’s” fore. Plummeting in a nearly poetic rain, the soft trickle against the cement became a thunderous roar of explosions. Beforehand, he had noticed a furtive sapphire gracefully dipping from a monstrous cannon, prior to an echo having shaken the boundaries between heaven and hell. By a mere glance, the catastrophe could have been estimated to penetrate the forward shields. Thereafter, the assault of phantoms would be visibly inscrutable.

A profuse layer of perplexity then quilted the entire ship with a silence having not been seen since the preliminary stage of war contemplation. At the time, few even considered staring the traitorous Jedi…Sith…into the eye. The spectacle of lights would have been adequate to awe the crew for hours: a single reflection of ulterior motive would diminish into a brutal shock. Their prized possession, the “Ziad,” had been dented beyond immediate repair. Moreover, the loss of frontward shielding left a gap for lethal ambush in spite of the guarded aft.

Then again, the implacable traitor had fallen to his knees, and in palpable view. As had the initial turmoil fled, an acquired hatred boiled to the apex of the crewmembers’ foreheads bursting with gelatinous veins. Pearly eyes grown moist with crimson blood, a mutilating grimace contorted at the lips to the result of a ravenous hunger. Knowing not the inflicted casualties or mechanical injury due to reluctant specialists, one focus pulsated their smeared cringes.

As swiftly as heads turned, a hoary beam of luminescence – flaunting a quiet flicker of nimble sparks – grew from beneath a bouquet of black linen. Muffled amongst the blooming robe and with a hilt unseen by any assessment, Xylon’s inset eyes resonated delicately in scrutiny of the ductile rod guided to Ahnk’s jugular. And still, the conspirator convened upon his knees with not a word to express. Following the prattle of a metal device drumming adjacent to several brass chains, a gloomy bullet soared into Hexyra’s bare hand. Fluttering into detection, the metallic casing to the Sith’s profound saber-hilt gloomed in Xylon’s once-vacant hand.

Silence…

Thud. In a scarlet puddle laid the cleaved Ahnk drawn into a solemn respite. The tainted blood, having spilled to the floor, was duplicated in a deep gash tearing his skull and the hilt of his very own saber, lain to the establishment. Guards lining either side of Ahnk’s downed body, Xylon slid his lips outward to communicate a remark.

“Unfortunate… Take our friend to the anti-force brig under heavy ysalamari guard. If he wakes to resist in spite of the anti-force field, do whatever you must to preserve him alive.”

In a solitary step, the saber hilt lay crushed.



“Sir… The “Ziad’s” barrel has been heavily damaged….Sector Three concentration, mostly.”

The hostility having cleared, standard procedure took to the bridge in a familiar state. Officers and ensigns alike, bustling with the desperate attempt to forget,
returned to their stations with heavy hearts.

“…The generator is intact? And, have we gotten identification to the missile bearers?”

“Uh…well I doubt it of use, the generator is intact…sir. Unfortunately, the attackers were cloaked…except for the Massassi Home Ship’s cannon, of course.”

“Variable Spectrum Analyzers…set them to Gamma Radiation. Break our ghosts’ seal by monitoring thruster output and engine combustion. And the generator reserves – is our charge still active?”

“Well…yes, it is. I’ll set the Analyzers immediately, but do you not wish the super-laser core be deactivated?”

“Auxiliary paneling…distribute the charge across all upper-fore turbolaser cannons. Have it fired upwards on my mark…”

“It’ll take some time, but it’s a possible.”

Tension coiled and flared in the minutes of waiting. Endless bombardments lit the sky for quite the show of magnificence, or so the relative height of any war was. Residue of Ahnk’s drag to the brig stimulated questionable feelings, nonetheless melodramatic. Although their egos had been escorted to a fiery rest, pride remained.

“Barrage prepared. Get ready for a rough ride, guys! Ready, Commander?”

“Fire.”

Proceeding a phase of uneasy trembling, the large ship spouted a series of constant, jade rays from its bosom. All the while, a red glare heated the turrets as the intense power circulated in, and directly outwards. The prolonged slashes implanted by the batteries faded after a standard minute of persistent fire. Once the smoke faded, a knarred lower-hull was revealed in unison to an obliterated Shadionic Cannon.