It is a tumultuous time for the EMPIRE. From the Unknowns to the rim, it is arguably the dominant power in the galaxy. Thousands of species of thousands of worlds pay homage to the Emperor, DAEMON HYFE.

All is not as well as it would seem. To personify stability, the Architect of the EMPIRE, SIMON KAINE has retired, leaving his most trusted officers to stamp out disloyalty and thrive. REBELLION runs rampant and some systems among the EMPIRE’s newest holdings are held at bay only by the MILITARY.

Deep within the ONYX SECTOR, a genius on the brink of madness plans to force the Emperor to make war, destroying the EMPIRE. He readies a plan to force all to unknowingly bend to his will so he can flourish in the CHAOS of what remains. At first glance, there is no one to stop him…

Coronet City, Corellia


The Lieutenant sighed, slumping his shoulders under the thigh-length leather jacket. He tugged at the seam with his free hand, pulling the jacket and the belt on top to a more even position which suited his almost obsessive self-image. The rain poured down onto him, the odd bulbous drop splashing on top of his crushed cap from the edge of a rooftop above. He shivered slightly as the wind blew through the man-made caverns of the city’s center. His eyes squinted against the breeze though his gaze did not waiver; he watched a totally unremarkable door on the side of a building that ran back from the main promenade, watching and waiting.

" How long do you think, Lieutenant?" The officer turned down his free hand so that his black glove pushed away from his chrono. There was no set time to expect what as to happen, he knew that from the briefing, but the four men with him, four patrolmen in the same black leather jacket, breeches, and crushed black cap, had no idea what to expect. " A few minutes, at best. Ready?"

The four men checked their weapons, first depowering the charge in the chamber then reinitializing it, then removing their pistols and doing the same functions check. All was ready, all in their power anyway. Then, interrupting a pair of thunderbursts from the Gods themselves came a staccato explosion in the building they watched. It was a flash bang charge, designed to disorient. Not even a second had passed before the explosion when a dozen blue and black armored troopers of the Corellian Security Force Shock Squad advanced through the smoke. They screamed commands to get down and stay down, their voices modulated by filtration helmets: they resembled stormtroopers but were considerably more specific in their targets.

The sound of running around was heard; eyes looked up into the falling rain. A dozen beings, some armed and some not, were trying to climb out of windows and onto fire escapes in the alley. They thought that with the entry team they would have to content only with the regular patrolmen of the city’s police force who would, as usual, probably be arriving only too late. They were wrong.

" Don’t forget our target, everything else is secondary. Now!" The Lieutenant moved into the street at the head of his men, pointing his short blaster carbine up at the descending denizens. The building was a front for the Black Nova, one of the many groups that claimed to be the rightful heirs to Black Sun: no doubt all had at least three outstanding warrants from anywhere in the Empire. They were criminals all. If not, they are keeping the company of criminals. The distinction is for the courts.

The special enforcement officers ordered those that remained after a moment to descend and keep their hands aloft, those who bore weapons having quickly ducked back inside. No shots were fired, which gave the Lieutenant a reason to smile. Then, the door he had been watching burst open. Where the horrid green painted door had been stood a Rodian bounty hunter, his green skin and bulbous eyes looking quite out of place in the center of Corellia’s capitol city. The smile at a flawless operation that had been on the Lieutenant’s face disappeared altogether as he felt his nose wrinkle, the stench of the alien being filling his nostrils. He was not xenophobic – his former partner was Falleen – but this thing in front of him he hated. For a moment he forgot why until his eyes saw the trophies on his belt from all those he had killed: hanging there was more police insignia than he cared to view. Four months he had hunted this slime, Toorin was his name, and now here he was, in his sight. The rage built while attending more than his share of funerals burned to the surface and he squeezed his gloved hand tight around the trigger of the blaster carbine and fired off a single shot.

The patrolmen ran to the Lieutenant’s side, each having slung his carbine over a shoulder so as to put binders on their prisoners; each of course, had run out. They stood there with their commander and looked down at the Rodian, a hole burned in his left shoulder. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, unstifled by the rain. " Take him to the car."

The Lieutenant looked up into the rain and smiled. A job well done.

District Headquarters, Coronet City Constabulary


" Lieutenant Sadonis to see you, Chief."


Major Graxor nodded to acknolwedgement to the young officer whose head had so briefly popped into the room. The Major had to smile: the man was a SWAB, or Secretary With A Blaster as the police term went, and looked very much like an academy graduate twenty years ago who had grown from the section stooge to special enforcement division deputy chief. Major Graxor shook the remembrance away when the glass doors to his office whooshed open, admitting the arriving constable.


" Reporting as ordered, Sir."


The man standing before Graxor was a spit and polished recruiting poster image, at least in appearance: shinning jackboots, pressed breaches, double breasted thigh-length leather jacket without a spec of dust - even the crushed cap which the special enforcement officers wore which many considered disheveled looked in proper order under the man's arm. His duty belt was in perfect order, holster shined and binder cases without the creases most officers earned from use in only weeks. Having been the Lieutenant's commanding officer for three years, Graxor knew the appearance was only uniform deep; underneath, he was exactly that which every Constable and Police Officer anywhere dreaded becoming - a being whose sole purpose was work with no past time or life beyond the reach of the seven-pointed star badge of the Coronet City Constabulary. Lieutenant Sadonis was not a man dedicated to work, he was a man consumed by it.


" Sit down, Lieutenant. Your prisoner was booked with a severe blaster wound on his shoulder. Slacking on your aim?"


Sadonis took a seat and kept his face impassive, despite the Deputy Chief's attempt at humor. " No sir. The prisoner reached for a weapon. The shot was placed to stop that move. I'm a policeman; executioner is a Department of Prisons career."


" No matter, on top of his seventy arrest warrants are six termination warrants: three local and three Imperial. That's not why I called you in though, and you know that. What's this?"


The Lieutenant let his eyes drift from the aged officer on the other side of the desk to the flimsiplast sheet in his hand. Though he couldn't focus on the words, there was no need; he knew it was his request for a transfer. " It's a standard form, Sir. Did I err in filling it out?"


" No, it's flawless. I read your Academy questionairre. You wanted to be a special enforcement officer and now you are. Why do you want to leave now?"


" Sir, with all due respect, I cannot get what I want here. Perhaps I could, but this would be easier. There is nothing wrong with the unit for those here, it's just not busy enough."


Graxor's eyes went wide in disbelief: the special enforcement unit had a swoop unit which was among the most prestigious in the Empire, mostly used for road and highway patrol, with an additional manpower pool that formed a reserve in different sections as the muscle behind difficult operations. Except for the expressway patrol units, they did not answer regular burgarlies and fight calls, special enforcement teams responded to shootings in progress, raids, and other duties some officers would kill for. He could not understand, especially given where the Lieutenant wanted to go. " You do know I could deny this. You're an excellent officer; you've got drive, dedication, and an obsession with success that others can't even understand. I could keep you here."


" That's ture Sir but you won't." Sadonis looked the Deputy Chief square in the eyes and took on a face that was not challanging as much as sure. " I'm an oddity here. You all have something to go home to, I have only this. The administration likes me because I make up for in numbers what alot of officers slack off on; thats my only saving grace. I believe strongly in justice, others only in doing a job. I offer you a way to be rid of me and give me a chance to maybe make a difference instead of irritate people."


Major Graxor glowered for a moment, in silence. The bastard's right.




Three weeks later...

4th Floor, Imperial Civil Defense Force Headquarters
Complexus Administratum, Onyx Sector


The office was far from what he expected, having a window, desk, computer, and even some native plant in a dark blue basin that looked to be a kind of porcelin. Sitting down, Lieutenant Sadonis looked not out at the large towers of the sector capital but at the bustlign figures of the bull-pen with dozens of police officers and investigators moving about in a chaotic sea crashing around desks, chairs, and the occassional holding cage.


Lieutenant Sadonis activated his computer, a hundred or so message waiting indicators greeting him with annoying little clicks. He shut off the terminal as quickly as he'd activated it, and turned back to the people in the pen. Yes, they had their hands full. Affixing his cap to his head, Sadonis pushed open the door to his office and went to help.