Dameo
Tion Sector
Palace of the Sun God


Although God needs not a temple to be adored praised and venerated, to fill all the world with his essence, presence, and power nevertheless, he has always desired that there should be prayers offered unto him, to obtain his mercy and forgiveness, in places determined upon by him. Thus was so on the Temple Mount, outside Dameun Capital. A paved walk leads to a colonnaded courtyard which like all such courtyards, symbolized the primordial marsh. The columns represented the plants of the marsh but, by rendering them in stone, their perishable nature had been overcome and their essence preserved. Beyond the courtyard lay the temple building proper. The first and largest chamber gave access to a smaller room which served as a vestibule to the innermost chamber which housed the sacred shrine. In this sanctuary, a high altar represented the primeval mound. Here in darkness broken only by rays of the sun entering through the doorway, sacred rites were performed by the priests to invoke an epiphany of their God.

His Avatar, suitably veiled or hidden in the primeval shrine, was placed on a litter and carried on the shoulders of his priests in procession. As the cortege went on its circuit amid the shouts of the populace, the chanting of the temple choir, the blowing of trumpets, the beating of drums, the rattling of sistra, and the burning of incense, emotions rose to a pitch of hysteria, and in such a frenzy the moment was ripe for the God to intervene in the affairs of man by giving oracular answers to suppliants by the spasmodic movements of the litter and the shoulders of its believers. So the morale of true believers was sustained by the presence of the God in their midst, by the evidence of his divine power, and by his concern in their everyday affairs.

The Maiden without knowledge of evil, waded through the fields of poppies. Her pale green skirt dragged behind her like a wedding train while her hair, golden as the desert sun, wafted behind her like a veil. She moved through a field of flowers in full bloom, yet appeared as a flower too more beautiful by far than any in the field. The flowers waved slightly in the desert breeze, alive with fertile green grasses and flame colored California poppies that spread out before her, blooming today as they did only once in a life time. Inspired by the progression of their Gods Avatar from the primeval shrine.

The sun palled then, as a chill breeze wafted upo the lands like a dagger to the stone. An unatrual darkness eclipsed the sun then, as if a hand intended to spear it from the heavens and claim it as their own. That was when the transports became visible.

Kessel
Type: Asteroidic
Climate: Dry/Barren
Terrain: Desert/Mountain/Cavernous
Kessel is on the border of wild space a unknown and wild expanse of unexplored systems, The law practically does not exist and many bizarre creatures are found on the planets around here. Kessel itself only has one famous animal..or insect, A species of large crystanline spiders many of the spice miners who worked in the caverns found there end when these drained the liquids out of the bodys. The spiders would normally of been surpressed but due to there enormous size and the fact that they spun the valuble spice glitterstim used in many places around the galaxy for medication and interrogation. The Planet below ground level is rich in glitterstim and it is the only valuble resource found on kessel, on the surface mile upon mile of red deserts stretch out no life on the surface without artificial support can exist. The planet is so small that it lacks a atmosphere of it's own and so massive Oxygen factorys where constructed even then the oxygen is so thin that you cannot survive without a mask for anylength of time.

In the past this planet has been used as a testing ground for many imperial superweapons which where created in the maw installation nearby in the titanic battle which took place between the republic fleet and imperial remnant as it emerged from the maw. As a result the planet has no real moon to speak of only a long and vicous cycle of bloodshed and such on this planet. Being seperated by hutt space from the republic for the most part people on kessel can get away with pretty much anything here...

The term "spice" has come to describe a wide variety of stimulants mined or processed from a number of worlds, but the glitterstim found on Kessel is easily the most valuable. Not only a euphoric psychotropic drug beneficial in therapeutic uses, the photoactive fibrous strands imbue a user with a temporary increase in latent telepathy. This, combined with the rarity of the substance, makes it incredibly valuable --- valuable enough to kill and die for.

When the Empire rose to power, it took control of the spice mining operations, cutting into the profits of a number of underworld enterprises. The Empire constructed a correctional facility on Kessel's blighted surface where criminals and political prisoners were forced to toil in freezing underground caves to extract the spice. Since the spice would be activated by any light whatsoever, the indentured miners had to work in absolute darkness as they harvested the precious strands.

When not in the darkness of the mines, a criminal could find little hope in looking to the stars above Kessel. Not only was the system adequately guarded, but the skies were dominated by the startling display of the Maw Cluster, an unlikely conglomeration of black holes that would forever remind any souls on Kessel of their inescapable mortality.


This was all the Intelligence web had on the subject. The agents had come back from the world with very little information return. They had information on the battle, on the groups involved, the change of hands. Information on the now, while helpful in the now, was not a great intrest to the Empire as a whole. The then and after was a much more important aspect of the information gathering than the now would be. The then could show what the after might be and enlighten the young on what has been. The after would shape the way things would be and how the lives of the others would be lived. The now would only be good for the now, untill kept until it became the then.

What was known in the now was that the current owners, under the name 'Farfaleen' were more of a group of militants than an actual government in their own right. Much like a Claw or Wing given to their own. A Claw needed a Scale to protect it and a Maw from which to issuie forth its decrees. This Farfaleen was without this and it had been pointed out by these agents that perhaps it would be possible for that Maw to be spared and had.

Dameo: The Black Dragon Empire, Throne Room

Kneeling upon both knees, head bowed, Joel Donovin looked as if he were praying. His eyes were closed; his hands were centered in front of his face, palms facing each other.

The man was seeking his center, focusing on finding his inner being. He did this everyday, his day never beginning until he had cleansed himself. This was part of his way of life.

No one was to ever disturb him in his most sacred moment, not even his god and goddess. He needed his quiet moment alone each morning so that he could begin his day. He could not work without being centered.

He respected his god and goddess and those of the hierarchy, but there would always be thirty minutes of his day that would belong to him.

It was all that he asked for, a small request that brought him considerable influence toward his day. His life and everything else belonged to his god and goddess and to Dameo, except for his thirty minutes.

Those thirty minutes each day restored his soul from the previous day. Perhaps it was never important to him that anyone understand the significance of his pose and what it implemented, but rather that he be able just to have such time to himself, that was truly much more important to him. What he did never need any understanding.

There were rare times when he was not able to restore his soul within his thirty minutes, at such times, he humbly requested for more time, never truly expecting to keep more time than what was necessary for him.

Joel never believed in being a peer to those he obeyed, or equal to those of higher stature or those of the same caliber as he. He was a simple man, doing simple things in a not so simple life. Centering made his life a little easier, without it; he knew he would be lost.

As he kneeled on this day, his head still bowed through the entire thirty minutes of his silent ritual, some innovative yet profound feeling washed over Joel as he cleansed away his impurities.

A change was to come about for The Black Dragon Empire.

Kessel.

To say that he knew a few people down there was an under statement. Before the planet had been occupied by the Farfalen Mercs, He had a fair amount of business there. It was back when business was good, and the Hutts ran the spice planet. Being a corporate CEO, he got on closer terms with most of the people in charge of distrubution. Of course they were as shifty as he was, but when you play the game, you're always gonna have those kinds of people. What he did know was that under the Farfalen Mercs, their entire business operation was pretty much vapourized, and spice production plummeted. Not exactly something spice-barons enjoy. Now, with the Empire gone, one would wonder if they even remembered how to play the market. Seeing how half the spice czars down there owed the Black Dragon Empire at least a dozen favors, a plan began to brew in the back of the envoys mind. If it worked, it might save his skin, and Faralen's for that matter. Even though Kessel was a dangerous place, it was a picnic compared to what we'd come across by taking out the Hutt guilds spice cache in the past.

The shuttle reappeared near the asteroid planet of Kessel approaching its destination. It would be only hours until the Lord set foot once again upon the grounds of the world. A world he had once known as an unescapable prison colony of the Imperial swine, that was of course, before he escaped. Though, what fates had sent him to return this day, only his wonderous saviors in Gods, praised be, knew.

Retrothrusters ignited as the landing gear emerged and touched down upon the bay. The shuttle landed with a slight jolt. The groan of the ramp lowering coinciding with the disembarking parties rise to their feet. In no time, the boarding ramp lowered from the shuttle and the Lord descended downward. The dark hooded cloak concealing his face, and his hands tucked away inside. As they descended the ramp the wind rose to meet them. Actung took the lead his head sheltered from the day light by the dark green of his hood. The two people flanking him stood to their full hieghts faces open to the wind each carrying several large padds with them. One had brown hair light skin deep darkened eyes and a hooked nose. The other Black hair tanend skin and a rather pointy nose with hazel eyes.

The spaceport was spartan, bland, and utilitarian. Utterly drab. Of course, being in the armpit of the galaxy and having absolutely no saving grace in tourism did that to a hunk of rock like Kessel. At any rate, it had four walls, ceiling, doors, and an atmosphere, which made it a good place to be. They walked inside, stopping at the slowly opening hydrolic doors, seemingly a very old technology to have been placed here. Apparently, the Farfalen Mercs coming had caused everything to stand on its head. Nobody was getting paid. Nobody. Military, spicers, etc. The mines had shut down, and confusion was heavy in the air.

As expected the Farfalen negotiating party had been at the prescribed coordinates, though they looked less and less like a negotiations party with every glance and more like a merc group that stole their computers. Either way, this was the way things were ment to be played out, and thus it would be as such.

"Droma dizon logun."

Actung greeted in Dameunn with a bow grinnign before translating.

"Hello, good life."

It wasn't an entirely accurate translation but there was more then one meaning to the key word of the phrase.

"I am Actung, and these are my aides. May I ask who I have the honours of meeting?"

A rather thin man for what one would expect to be a merc stepped forward, his appearance seemed to be that of an inter galactic lawyer more so than a hired gun. Then again, who was to say that every now and again someone would need a good lawyer scare tactic of some sort or another. Beside him approached some more or less standard merc looking types. Strong builds, covered in foot to kneck with tools of the trade, survivalists as they were.

"My name is Tyko, and my compatriots are Turek and Besh. We have come on behalf of Farfalen to negotiate the treaty with which our two, governmental bodies, may further and more closely interact with one another."

A brief silence insued as the Lord and his compainons pondered their further action. They had been given a strict protocal with which to follow on said basis. First would be the negotiation of assest wealth and diplomatic bonds, second would come the credits. Farfalen was to be handled like the extreme Mercanary group it made itself out to be, but also as a governmental body which some of the galaxy termed it as.

"Very well, has your immediate supper informed you of this arangement or do you already know the superflous details?"

"Indeed, and I just wish to make your party aware of a few facts before we start these talks. The glitterstim found on Kessel is easily the most valuable spice in the known galaxy. Not only a euphoric psychotropic drug beneficial in therapeutic uses, the photoactive fibrous strands imbue a user with a temporary increase in latent telepathy. This, combined with the rarity of the substance, makes it incredibly valuable, valuable enough to kill and die for."

"We understand this, and our negotiation slash treaty discussion will take on not merely a currency stand point but also that of a pseudo governmental one as well. We intend to not only propose the arangement to subsidize Farfalen assets into legal Black Dragon Empire holdings, but also make sure that Farfalen as a psudo governmental organization slash merc force remains its own autonomous governing body and dually paid vicariously for its loyalist actions."

"This is understood, but congruent to subsections A-4 of paragraphs one through 4 of of the Farfalen charter, any such agreements must not be publicized to the galaxy at large, nor be widely known for as long as generally posible, and we must be certain that any given Black Dragon Faculty is using all most pretexts in doing so as to avoid detection."

"Also understood,as long as its also understood that if and when the inevitable discovery of Farfalens allegiance is discovered, The Black Dragon Empire will not be held responsible for what ever may happen afterwards, and will also expect to retain Farfalens alligance so on afterwards."

"Agreed."

When the Empire rose to power, it took control of the spice mining operations, cutting into the profits of a number of underworld enterprises. Those enterpirses had risen and fallen in the Empires decadency. and Under Farfalens eyes, they had collapsed completely, raising the stakes on ownership of the spice. If a legit corporation were to corner the spice market now, that corporations stock would become more valuable than the stars themselves. For IDTech, this was a wisdom buy, for Black Dragon Empire, this was a power play. For Farfalen, this would be their bid for Power....

He left the conference chambers at a slow walk, his steps ecowed down the hall ways, leaving his other two companions to fall in line behind him, their footsteps adding to his own. Tyko led them through the twisting and turning hallways of the Central Command Structure of Kessel, a maze that not but a few years ago held countless slaves. This military instillation was buried under thirty levels of Kessels topsoil, hiding them savely from any kind of attack, so the trio rode in numerous turbolift shafts to get to their destination after a maze of twist and turns. In one of the many turbolift rides, Tyko sent a message through the subspace net that they were almost finished there.

Another subspace transmission was also being sent at that exact moment, though just as important, it was of a completely different type yet to the same location, though it originated in the Corvis star system, namely Corvis Minor three, home of IDTech these days.


ACCOUNT NAME: Heir

ACCOUNT NUMBER: 800-3261-336-330

ACCOUNT TYPE: Crd-Mkt

DEPOSIT OR WITHDRAW? W

CHOOSE ONE:
1. FUND CREDIT SLIP
2. REROUT FUNDS INTO OTHER PORTFOLIO ACCOUNT
3. ACH WIRE TO OUTSIDE CREDITHOLDER 3

ENTER PIN: ******

ENTER DESTINATION ACCOUNT TO CREDIT: 800-3253-288-932

ENTER TRANSFER AMOUNT: 30,000,000.00

ARE YOU SURE YOU WISH TO TRANSFER THE ABOVE AMOUNT TO "Kyric Zen"? Y

THANK YOU FOR BANKING AT FIRST TRUST OF IDTECH, HEIR. HAVE A NICE DAY_

He was in a dream, a fuzzy dream full of images, and pictures, and sounds, and smells. It almost smelled realistc. Then, as his head fell into a bowl of soup, he realised that in fact is was real, and due to the fact that he had once again been drinking, he had a bad hangover that made it seem like he was asleep, when in fact he was not. He pulled his head out of his soup, then faded out again. Fighting fate, he proceeded to slurp loudly as he drank his soup. He almost drowned, but just managed to get to the soup slurped up in time. He had become a slob, and despite resolve after resolve to change his ways, he always ended up the same. Perhaps this merger between the Black Dragon Empire, and his own group, Farfalen, would give him the motivation needed to change his ways, and become a proper fleet commander. But first, he was trying to remember exactly what he had been up to last night. He stood up shakily, spilling his bowls everywhere, when a Leuitenant came up to him, and helped to steady him.

"Careful Captian, don't push it. Thanks to you, the whole crew had a wild and awesome party last night. The ship may be a mess, but we thank you for the chance to unwind after several weeks of hard work." said the Leuitenant.


...


Some time later, Captian Vincent Harker strolled onto the bridge of the Kessel class Picket, and reported to Supreme Admiral Zen about the status of the plague that seems to have broken out on his ship.

"No sir, all victims are female, and all have cases of morning sickness. Despite the fact that they won't talk, I suspect that someone is having certain forbidden pleasures aboard my ship. I will deal with it immediatly." said Vincent.

After signing off, Vincent turned to his aide. "Find some slacker, and have him dumped out the airlock. He will be the sex bandit for now. And let me know when the replacements arrive, and if any of them are female." said Vincent with a growing smile. Life aboard a Farfalen ship was grand indeed...........

A waft of steam billowed out of the mug she held, warming the skin of her face as she took a sip of the contents. The elevator rose steadily higher, the motion lulling her already weary body to sleep. Even the strongest cup of Corellian java that she could get in the cafeteria was not rousing her. It had been a bad night.

She stifled a yawn and stepped out of the lift, when it stopped, into her office. Her secretary, Lora, smiled cheerily and set a stack of papers on the top of the reception desk. The Enforcers had a great deal of responsability inside the IDTech corporation, one that did not garner much respect, but were a great many things that had to be done.

"Good morning Ms. Lethan. Here are yesterday’s reports and today’s job orders."

"Morning, Lora, and thank you."Refesh took another drink from the mug, shuffling the top few papers of the rather large stack. "Has the Port Authority gotten back to me yet?"

"Yes Ma'am. Mr. Takta is holding for you on line one."

She nodded absently, only half listening as one report caught her eyes. Nothing much, just an incident with an Enforcer and informant. She handed the report back to Lora. "I want you to get Mr. Yoakr in my office first thing this afternoon. If he refuses to talk with one of my men, he can talk with me."She scooped the other papers into her arm. "Remind him that unless he would like to return to the penitentiary, he will not be late."

"Yes Ma’am."

The ornate doors separating the waiting area from her office opened as she approached and closed tightly behind her as she made her way to her desk. The papers dropped onto her desk and she sat back in the plush leather chair. She yawned again, and finished off the bitter drink in her mug. She had no sooner set the mug on the desk when Lora’s voice spoke over the comm.

"Sorry to interrupt you Ma’am, but Mr. Takta from the Port Authority is still holding on line one."

"Put him through to my vidscreen."

"Yes Ma’am."

A small red light began to flash on the surface of her desk, and she waited a minute before pressing the button next to it. A monitor rose from within the desk and flashed to life. On the other end of the call was a rather pudgy man. The standing call the last few days had been about a rather large, ney huge, withdrawl from IDT banking which had resulted in the corporations loan from outside galactic banking. A loan they had short coming on paying back on. In fact the word was from lower levels, that IDT management indeed had no suggestion of payment to the rest of the galaxy.

"Good Morning Ms. Lethan."

"Does it normally take the Port Authority a week to return a call Mr. Takta?"

The stern, unhappy look on Refesh’s face was enough to send a bead of sweat tricking down the side of his face.

"Uh, n-no Ma’am. It’s just - uh-"

"Shut up, Mr. Takta."

She leaned forward in her chair. A hard glare returning to her face before softening it back into her typically down talking view.

"I am very aware as to why you have not returned my calls. Allowing not one, but three Galactic Investigator's onto Corvis Minor 3 when all of them had designs on IDTech and Heir Raktus, how embarrassing for you? Were we not monitoring all inbound ships ourselves, we would never have known of their presence on the planet."

It was somewhat true, for the ammount of spending IDT owe'd the galactic banking, they could surely buy and sell the population, real estate and companies of the planet and back again. Thus was the importance of security, and the lack there of in some regions.

"Please, let me explain-"

"There is nothing to explain," she snapped. "You will begin to check every ship that enters Corvis Minor space, and triple check every ship that requests permission to land on Corvis Minor. Do it discretely, Mr. Takta, we would not want to panic the people. Am I making myself clear, Mr. Takta?"

"P-perfectly, Ma’am."

"Good." Her face softened. "IDT Security will continue to watch the skies, Mr. Takta, and you. Should you make another grievous error as you did with the Galaxy…" She ended the call with the unspoken threat, knowing that the weasely little man would not wish a visit from one of her Enforcers.

_

Relief flooded through Aow Takta when the connection with the Head of IDT Security was terminated. He slumped back into his chair, mopping the sweat from his forehead with the sleave of his shirt. The stain it created becoming quite visible on his furly expensive material.

He had been running the Port Authority of Corvis Minor for nearly fifteen years, and never before had he ever had to answer to the likes of Her. Heir Raktus was a business man, a decent man, but his goon squad was getting out of hand.

"Mr. Takta?"

Aow lifted his head from his thoughts to see the office manager peak his head into the office.

"Yes, what is it?"

"I just thought I should inform you that we've sent one our Patrol ships to intercept a ship in distress. Its systems are failing and it is approaching the atmosphere without deflector shields."

For the briefest moment he condiered notifying IDT Security, she probobably would have begun to treat him with a little more respect maybe for only an hour or so... then immediately changed his mind. He would not be bullied by that - that - woman!!

"Good, very good. See that the pilot arrives on Corvis Minor safely and then see to his ship."

"Yes sir."

Aow knitted his fingers together as he rocked back in his chair. It was time to show Ms. Refesh who was in chage of Corvis Minor space. There was not a chance in levels of hell that the IDTech corporation would be indited of intergalactic scandal on behalf of Heir Raktus's spending while he was on watch. No, that would have to fall to another world...

Cronese Mandate
Corvis Minor 3

Everything was happening so fast, it was impossible to judge the true effect it would have, here and across the galaxy. Here of course mattered more, but you had to have a wider vision- as long as you kept it in perspective. Everything has an order of importance; and determining where most anything fit in on that order was a simple task for Raleck Kradesh. It was as simple as this: If it involved the Cron Mandate, it was of the utmost important, if it involved anyone else, it was a distant second. Of course, it could be much farther subdivided than that, but Raleck preferred only to do so if he had to. Otherwise, such broad strokes would work; they always had and always would. Still, Raleck had an interest in the proceedings. It was expected off him, a blood member of the House of Cron, Raleck was expected to have knowledge in such things.

The mere thought made him spit in disgust. He was blood relative to the ruling house of the Cronese Mandate, a royal line that traced it’s lineage back centuries, yet the kingdom was becoming little more than a vassal. His ‘brilliant’ uncle, Robeir XXXIII, had made the negotiations with the Black Dragon Empire, and when Raleck had questioned, he had been penned of to a commission in the navy- to get out of Robeir’s hair. Stuck over Corvis Minor 3, he was still expected to keep up with all the intrigues of the court, and its relations, both domestic and foreign, as if he was waiting in line to rule all of the Cron. He spat again at the thought- although he was in the line of succession, the chances of his ascension were poor- and he wouldn’t have wanted to rule over such a pathetic existence such as the Mandate anyway. The region had slipped from its past glory, cutting back on its once profitable mining operations for no apparent reason (most likely mismanagement was the cause though) and being reduced to accept a joke of a treaty bringing Cron under direct influence of the techno freaks on Daemo.

Even the ship Raleck was on was a piece of crap…. And this was supposed to be a connected position. Corvis Minor 3 was supposed to be protected by a Loronar Strike Cruiser, and a pair of Rendilli Stardrive Dreadnaughts (not the best craft but certainly sufficient for a semi important world in the Tion Cluster) but maintenance problems had all three of those large capitals in eternal dry-dock, unable to be repaired to due to lack of parts. Raleck Kradesh, of Cron royal blood, commander in charge of defense of Corvis Minor 3 was forced to run his defense from a Highblood class frigate, a centuries old vessel that had seen service during the era immediately after the Mandolrian Wars! Refitted several times in its life, the vessel was capable enough, and its large size had allowed excellent defensive and sensor packages to be installed sometime in he relatively recent past, but for a 900 meter vessel, it had appalling weaponry, and was slower than Raleck even cared to think about.

Not that anybody cares.

He had been sent away to keep his ‘unneeded’ commentary from disillusioning any of the Royal Entourage or advisors that the Black Dragon Treaty was unfair. Of course now, sitting on the vessel, he was being asked to read a report on a Dragon affair, and make a report on how it would effect the Mandate. BDE was a power in the Tion sector to be sure, but their affinity for dealings with the outer galaxy, even if in a hostile manner, irked Raleck. Well, at least that’s what he told himself. The fact that BDE had tremendous power in the galaxy, with the threat of their ultimately deadly phage missiles and super advanced technology, may have been the real reason Raleck felt offended that the Mandate had submitted so willfully to Daemo. They had the power he wanted, and thus his jealousy manifested itself in anger. Anger that was only fuled by what he was reading, again, finally shifting himself back to his appointed task.

Intel Report 17464B
Black Dragon Expansion in ‘The Maw’

[I[ Our sources have pieced together a semblance of what is currently occurring with regard to the recent moves by both The Black Dragon Empire and the rouge group known as ‘Farfalen’. Much of the acticity between between the two seems centered on Kessel, a large planetoid located in the edge of the galaxy. The planet is known for its former Imperial connections, most reputably a large scale incarceration facility and slave mine. No known sentient indigenous life. Only 1 major commodity, spice, in its several forms. Most profitable export: Glitterstim. Current government: unknown. Also believed to be connected to Imperial projects of great importance. [/i]

Raleck was already disgusted with the nearly unitelligble report. The Cronese Mandate intelligence service was notorious for illegible, inarticulate reports filled with useless and easily accessible information, garbled together with bits and pieces of real info, in an attempt to hide the huge holes in their reports. Raleck felt he was about to get another huge bunch of bantha fodder where he was supposed to be getting priceless information. However he had to keep reading, on the small chance some useful information happened to be slipped in by mistake. Raleck seriously doubted it, but he had been wrong before.
He peered back down at the data file.

It seems that BDE was drawn in because the mercenaries who took the planet had seriously disrupted spice flow. The previous owners, the Outer Rim Soveringty had cut down the flow, but they had not fully stamped out the critical drug to millions of spice addicts. The space battle and subsequent bombardment and occupation had been quite a traumatic event though, and dealt quite a blow to the illicit trade. BDE must have had some links to the trade because high level executives had traveled there to speak with the new owners of the planet and possibly restore the flow of the critical material. This seems to be in the direct opposite of the ORS policy which was to begin cracking down, or turning a blind eye to the trade, as long as it didn’t get rampant. Like several other of President Griff’s decisions, it is subject to debate, several analysts believe it to be a intelligent move, while other felt it would cause problems for the Soverignty, which had made a previous declaration against smuggling in Soverignty space. It is unclear of course, how everything would play out, because the ORS was relieved of their instillations on Kessel following the Farfalen attack. Farafalen’s assault was believed to be very timely, due to the ORS commitment to fighting the Empire on several fronts, leaving fewer forces to protect this remote outpost. Still, the fight was quite tremendous, though in the end, the ORS force were overwhelmed by a combination of superior firepower and numbers. Our sources believe if the ORS had not been occupied elsewhere it would have been likely that the assault may have failed, due to a much larger Kessel defense fleet, though the leader of the Farafalen mercs is reputed to be quite a tactician.

The rambling was going so far off on a tangent, Raleck was having trouble following it. Why did it matter what the ORS was doing in relation to spice smuggling? Who cared how the battle might have turned out? It was in the past, it was unimportant, it was only slightly relevant, and basically sausage filler, a bunch of crap. He scrolled down a bit, and with a renewed disgust read on.

It is believed that Farfalen and Daemo made a formal agreement, bringing the former into the latter, in exchange for a huge amount of credits, and a agreement to renew the spice trade in a semi-legitament venture of IDtech, the semi-nationalized corporation on Daemo, which is the true technological power behind the government. Although he recently stepped down, the current leader of BDE, Heir Ratkus was for a long time the CEO of IDtech. IDtech is famous for several light friegther designs as well as other civilian technology on Daemo unparrelled in the galaxy. An example of this would be the so called ‘Mystery’ a revolutionary technology that allows the citizens of the Black…

Raleck didn’t even bother reading the next several paragraphs knowing it would contain pointless info about BDE which was totally irrelevant. If he ever caught the intel officer who wrote this report he’d have him beheaded- after he had him tortured for 7 days in a secret prison somewhere. He was getting a migraine headache just skimming the report.

The sum that has been transferred is huge number, available only to monster corporations. It is unlikely however, that such a loss of assets will affect IDtech, BDE or any other their current province will be unduly effected. In fact, since the deal is currently unknown to many galactic investors, IDtech has continued rising at a steady pace, and unless it is divulged, it may only continue to go up. Even if its divulged, the addition of legalized spice trading may actually offset any ill effects. Guryil Lijgh, a Twi’leck anyalist for finacial services has suggested that t

Raleck had had enough. With disgust he threw down the datapad. He wasn’t really angry at the Black Dragon Empire- no it was just frusturating reading such a poor report. It was things like this that had let Cron slip down low enough to be brought into a unfair deal with BDE. Well, maybe not totally unfair, but unneseccary. Raleck hit himself for giving the deal such a distinction. No- he would not allow his feelings to waver. His (it was to some degree his) kingdom deserved better. They should be dealing with Mercs over the spice trade, not BDE. Of course, now Cron was BDE, but that was not a distinction he was ready to make. Besides, foreign policy was the least of his worries. BDE and Farfalen could do whatever they pleased- he was more worried with his own internal problems. He had do something, everything else could wait. Maybe he could talk his Uncle into letting him address the court alone- and maybe convince someone about his point of view. Maybe he could promise to shut up in exchange for replacement parts (if there were any in the whole Mandate) for his strike cruiser and dreadnaughts. Having those toys to play around would distract him for awhile, maybe. Crushing the datapad would have felt much better, but he refrained- he might need it later, much later when such information might actually be important. They said if you put 100 tach monkeys in a single room and let them type up datacards long enough they would reproduce the works of the great Jedi Borles Huril if given enough time. Raleck had never been one to believe in those odds- he always thought that analogy was stupid, a foolish bit of nonsense. I mean what were the odds, 500 to 1? 1000 to 1. Higher? Probably. Raleck was sharp, and could probably figure out the exact odds if he felt like it- but it was a pointless exercise. He would leave such endeavors to the intell personale. Besides, the number would be depressingly small- Raleck would hate the touch of reality- it would remind him of an even smaller chance- something even more improbable than the tach writing something coherent.

The Cron Mandate’s leadership actually listening to reason.

"So, you thought you might get away with it? How many of our secrets did you communicate with your over the net anyway?"

Takta sat on the edge of his desk a small dagger in hand, a tall and normaly brutally handsome man sat in front of him, his face bruised and beaten from hours of slow torture. Tarus fett stood in the back of the room, watching as his bounty faced the fruits of his trechery. It had been a swift catch to locate the man, who had not even bothered to leave the planet when the bounty had been placed on his head. Probobably not worried since the bounty was for a live capture.

"Still not answering eh?"

FWESH! The dagger implanted itself directly in his hand as he let out a shriek of pain. blood slowly trickling out over the wound. The viens of his hand bulging under his clenched arms and pulsing oozes.

"I really must admire your resolve, but know this, your not leaving this room alive, so either you die a slow and painful death right here, or you can answer me now and this will all be over just like that"

He illustrated his point by snaping his fingers in the gentlemans face. It was a corny maneuver, but it still got his point accross rather effectively.

"Still unwilling to talk?..."

He leaned forwards into the mans face, placing his hand over the hilt of the dagger for leverage, slowly pushing the expanding blade of the dagger deeper and deeper into his hand and through the arm of the chair painfully.

"Mister, I suggest you start talking"

He griped down on the hilt of the dagger, twisting it in his hand, a quiet crunching sound being heard just below the mans shriek of pain. Looking down at his handiwork, he saw a rather large hole had been made in the mans hand. Full of twisted flesh, broken bone bits and hanging viens.

"You know, the brain usually puts limits on how much pain impulses it can recieve from the body before shutting down. But dont you worry, we'd never let that happen, not at least until you tell us what we want to know..."

The man sat there grim faced as ever, though he didnt seem to be strugling against the bounds like one thought he would have been. Leaning forward he used the tip of the dagger to pop the buttons of his shirt of one by one, exposing his chest to the room. he slowly ran the edge of the dagger up and down his chest, looking into the mans eyes, until he slowly made an inscion just below the clavice leading down to just above his belly button. the cut was deep enough that a line of blood began to form and trickle down his belly, but not enough to penetrate the layer of muscle above his insides. Licking the blood off the blade he leaned down to the mans face, speaking softly..

"Now you can tell im serious, so why dont you simply tell me your employers name?"

Still nothing... Takta slid a finger down the long cut he had made in the man, then a most evil look overtook his face as he slid his finger under the skin of the mans chest, then another, and another till he had all his fingers in his skin but just above his muscle, tearing away at the connecting flesh between them, he soon had one bloody hand running against the inside of his skin. Tarus quickly stepped forwards, injecting the mans arm with an unknown substance, something that would keep him alive through the pain, not for very long, but long enough to tell them what they needed to know, hopefully...

***

It had been quite some time, the body disposal and cleanup had been meassy, but the time spent he had found to be quite enjoyable. Either way, the man had been steadfast in his unwillingness to comunicate his employers name. No worries though, there was less than little doubt that he had been unable to send any reports before his untimely death, and the most sucesful part about the entire situation was the certainty of knowing that he had acted alone.

The Banking representative would not be missed and the Enforcers would most certainly back off of his back now, and if not, he had his ways. Not to mention the money in which to make sure they were followed through.