Trachta watched the arrival of Kach Thorton, cameras constantly observing him through this little journey into his domain. Most people were often rather skittish about it, primarily because a lot of people disappeared into the COMPNOR HQ and were never seen again. The usual multiple scans went through and watched with further amusement as Thorton burnt some piece of paper and reached for something before pulling his hand away. The door slid open and Kach Thorton entered Trachta's office, a rather grimly lit chamber for intimdation effect as it made the red light from Trachta's photoreceptors more evident. It was an excellent psychological tool to intimidate visitors or prisoners he chose to question personally before turning them over to more physcial interrogation experts. Trachta knew how to break people yet sometimes it required a scientific application of pain to ensure they were telling the truth.

Trachta stood, though noting with amusement that the green light flashing on his display noted that Thorton had some sort of recording or audio device on. He should have known better than to do something like that with someone who was as paranoid as Trachta, but it didn't really matter. If it was a transmitter, the admiral would find it was jammed due to the specific paranoia Trachta had about others monitoring him. It if was just recording their conversation, well there were ways to remove the device from his person either peacefully or through less pleasant means of persuasion. He listened to what Kach Thorton had to say, taking it all in along with the final hint.

"To be honest, Admiral Thorton, I've already infiltrated your Protectorate. I have ISB agents combing through your ranks specifically for treacherous activity and several have already been picking through your records. As to someone else doing spying internally, I'm rather sure I have an idea as to who though I sadly wasn't aware. Arrangements can be made to correct their folly in trying to do the ISB's job. I can also look into this strange little financial issue you seem to be having."

Trachta walked over to his desk and picked up the polished metal sphere he'd been toying with before, slowly spinning it in his right hand as he turned to face Kach Thorton. It was seemingly harmless as it was intended to appear, just a little bauble that Trachta could toy with in his gloved hand while he spoke to someone. No one besides the manufacturer droid on Trachta's personally governed world of Mechis III knew it was actually a rather lethal little droid armed with internal vibroblades and other armor piercing cutting implements that would try to savage and burrow into anyone who wasn't Trachta if he turned it on. It amsued him to have such a merciless little device so easily hidden in plain sight if someone tried to assassinate him.

"As for your other business, I suggest you turn off whatever audio device you have on. If its transmitting, my room is jamming it. If its recording, well... I'd hate to have to take it from you," Trachta said with slightly icy tones that indicated he wasn't to be toyed with.

For a moment there was a slight tinge of fear as Trachta mentioned combing his records, but the fear subsided before it took hold as he remember that there were no records of his criminal past in Imperial hands, and other than his little conspiracy against the other candidates for governor - crimes to which he was connected only by a single call to a guaranteed-safe Smuggler's Alliance contact - his Imperial service record was squeaky clean if you overlooked his rather rambunctious days at the academy.

Looking at Trachta he wondered if he were trying to intimidate him. If he was it wasn't working. "Have it your way," he said, pulling out the recorder in his pocket and turning it off. He noticed a green light that had been shining on the director of COMPNOR went out. He then pulled out another cylinder, a Disruption Bubble Generator and turned it on. "It's just you and me now," he said. There would be no records of his treason. He paused for a moment. He was getting no bad feelings. He may be dangerous, but Thorton was getting the impression that Grand Conspiracy was something right up this man's alley.

"You know," he began in a sympathetic voice, "you look unappreciated, Commander. Almost as if you had lofty goals and dreams, but political rivals were holding you down. Men possibly not as qualified as you, but far better connected and well liked in high-ranking military and political circles seem to get the positions of promotions you're striving for. Has that ever happened to you? Because something like that's happened to me before. And you know what? It's a damn shame. All I want to do is serve the Empire as best I can from the highest rank I can. Have you ever had that happen to you?"

"Of course, though I have managed to adapt so far to such challenges. How else could all of COMPNOR be run by the ISB now rather than a council of lackeys to the Emperor?" Trachta asked rather calmly.

Trachta looked on at Kach Thorton for a moment, rather amused that he was choosing a sympathetic tone with him. No one had sympathy for Trachta, he was sure of that after his silent campaign of terror against anyone suspect of treachery. He was however interested in the implications of what was being said here and his interest was growing more out of what could come out of this.

"And what might be your highest aspiration for rank, Admiral? Afterall you do already control a Protectorate, holding a position as Moff along with your naval ranking. And my last standing rank was Commodore, before I slipped into areas I had more talent in," Trachta said as he indicated his office. "I prefer my position with COMPNOR now, as Director."

Trachta spun the small bauble in his hand still, curious about where this was going. He could smell something deeper running in all of this. Afterall, he had pulled off a few rather ruthless, yet subtle planetary seizure operations in his earlier days as he started rebuilding the ISB. It had been a long and hazardous road which could all come crumbling down if he wasn't careful, if he didn't take precautions. He would have to keep that in mind if this was leading where he felt it might be.
"So what precisely might you be inferring?"

Trachta - now Commodore Trachta, he knew - was clearly not a nervous man. He was very calm and in control of himself. The only bad bit of nervous body language on him was his toying with that sphere. Though Thorton wasn't an expert at reading body language he wasn't half bad. Playing with it was clearly a habit of some sort that he'd never taken the time to shed. Why he'd ever taken it up he had no idea.

"You're right, Commodore, that I've achieved quite a bit. A Protectorate and a high rank in the fleet are both admiral achievements, as is the fame I possess. I know I should be satisfied, but I am not. And so I can only set my sights higher. How high I can go I do not know, but I intend to find out." Thorton looked up at the ceiling quizzically. "Perhaps I may even reach the top."

"However, despite my willingness to serve the Empire as best I can I have found some" he paused briefly, "obstacles in my path. When you reach the levels that we have both worked our way to you find that not everybody around you is working toward the best interests of the Empire exclusively. Some might," he paused for effect, "not even be working for the best interests of the Empire at all, but for only themselves. I think it is a tragedy that men like that prevent men like us for doing our best work for Emperor Hyfe." He smirked slightly.

"I want only what's best for His Madjesty Hyfe" - he threw the refrence to the Emperor in on purpose - "but men in the Imperial bureaucracy who view me as a rival of all things make my job difficult, and moving up even more so. If there were some way to . . . neutralize those who don't have the Empire's best interests in mind, then I could serve the Empire much, much better."

Trachta listened very intently now, knowing full well he could just as easily turn this all into an admission of guilt. He wasn't going to but the option was always there, though prosecuting someone so powerful would prove difficult without real evidence. This offer was what intrigued him, primarily because it offered him an alliance with a Protectorate governor which he could reap many gains from. He knew how to play the politics game, he was just wise enough to remain in the shadows and seem less threatening. It seemed the opportunity had arrived for him to perhaps make a greater climb to power now.

"Consider I might be able to provide such services for you. What precise benefit would I recieve from being so very... helpful. I am a servant of the Empire, I always have been, but I need to know that you can be counted upon. Otherwise offering you aid would not be exactly beneficial to me or the Commission."

Trachta looked on at Thorton, letting what he had said sink in now. It was clear the cyborg was interested, but wary of risking himself or his resources unless there could be some form of reassurance. Trachta was opportunistic and careful out how he went about thigns, which explained why basically no one outside the Imperial hierarchy was likely aware he even existed, at least perhaps the Imperial citizenry. The shadows were where Trachta lingered for it suited him best in his abilities and in his demeanor.

"What do you have to say to that, Admiral?" Trachta tilted his head to the side ever so slightly in a gesture of curiosity.

Thorton smirked. He'd basically said what he had to and Trachta had made no move to arrest him, so so far so good. While he might be waiting for him to say more, with no recorders going on in the room he would find it basically impossible to arrest, torture and send him to trial. COMPNOR could make low ranking bureaucrats and military personnel disappear if they wanted to and nobody would notice, but you couldn't just make one of the most powerful men in the Empire disappear suddenly. Not without proof of treason.

"In exchange for your . . . help, I am in a position to offer you things you lack. COMPNOR has no vessels designed for combat. The Borderland, however, has plenty of ships. We could, perhaps, loan you some if you ever need them. In addition, while COMPNOR possesses extensive intelligence gathering assets within the Empire, you have no information about external affairs, since that is covered by Imperial Naval Intelligence. I, however, receive full Naval Intelligence reports, which you could most certainly use. They contain extensive detail - so extensive that I cannot read the entirety of each report - about foreign nations, vessels, and individuals. In addition, I have a third party underworld contact network I can call upon if you need assistance of that sort. A large contact network.

"There is one more thing. If I do reach the top of the Imperial Hierarchy - hypothetically of course, for His Majesty Hyfe seems in good health - I am responsible for filling the position of Grand Inquisitor. Let's just say that I am . . . unsatisfied with the man currently there."

Trachta stopped spinning the small bauble the moment that last phrase had been spoken, no longer viewing the option of having the little droid savage the Admiral as a final option. He set it back on his desk, his demeanor grew more serious perhaps than it was before. He considered the possibilities combined with the fact that he didn't actually like Hyfe all the much because of his having certain talents that Trachta had an adverse hatred towards. In a way, this seemed like the path to purifying the Empire of a lingering presence that he hadn't cared for at all.

"What a generous thought, such a pity that the Emperor is in such good health... for now," Trachta said as an indication that Kach Thorton had finally hit onto something that he would consider doing.

"The offer of those other resources is also very valuable to me, it would greatly expand my capacity to monitor external as well as interal threats to the Empire. Afterall, not all the Empire's problem come from the inside and I do so hate my jurisdiction being limited by that. Consider that you have my support, Admiral, and who knows? The Emperor's health might not hold out, afterall it is such a very stressful occupation to run a fair portion of the galaxy. He might consider going into seclusion..."

Trachta left that hanging in the air, making it clear he would help Kach Thorton in this. He was a logical and careful man but even he had his hatreds and ambitions, both of which might be satifisfied by this if they were to succeed. If not, Trachta would have to have a backup plan prepared but that could be seen to later. For now he would start manuevering resources to support the Admiral in his endeavours and start to weaken his opposition.

Project Futuregate
A critical analysis of the particle bursts by theoretical and quantum engineers confirmed that their efforts up until now had not been in vain. The Futuregate particle collider – by far the largest every built – produced massive bursts of both tachyons and gravitons. When fired, gravitons would slip into alternate dimensions as a byproduct of the reaction, but the tachyons would slip into the future and the past. Time travel for individuals, though impossible, was much easier to induce on a quantum scale. Bursts of subatomic particles, created by massive explosions resulting from collisions between groups of particles traveling almost at the speed of light, could travel into the past or future. Theoretically, if there was a way to pick up these bursts of Tacheyons then messages could be sent into the future by using crude binary or Morse code. Individuals might not be able to time travel, but messages could. They could even be sent different amounts of time forward or back by altering the power of the accelerator and therefore the speed of the particles in the resulting burst.

Theoretically.

The technology was limited by the huge amounts of power required. Information transmitted was limited into the bytes. The Futuregate assembly drew as much power as four Imperial-class Star Destroyers at full power. In addition, assuming the physics worked, messages would be extremely slow to transmit and receive. Assuming it worked – as the physics suggested it would – the most that could ever be sent was text. Computer programs, images, schematics or other things were far too large for efficient transmission. One Futuregate assembly was the equivalent of one transistor or telegraph post.

The Empire’s best physicists said it would work. Now it was time to put that to the test.

On the keypad in front of him, Malek baal Kaar began to type a message. “Is anyone there? We would like to speak with you.” Then he turned on the recorder again, as he had last done for test eleven. Around him in the Futuregate control room a dozen of the Empire’s best physicists – the core team for the project – milled about in preparation and nervousness.

“Test one of Phase two for the Futuregate Assembly is now in progress.” He let go of the button and pushed forward one of three levers. In response the earth around the base began to vibrate and a massive hum began to permeate the base. He looked at a pair of diagrams on a screen in front of him. “Reactor output stable” he said. “Reactor cooling stable.” He pushed the second lever forward and much of the vibrating and humming dissipated. “Particle accelerators online. All cooling and electrical systems green. Magnetic containment fields are live.” He pushed the third lever forward. “Monitoring and reception gear online.” He glanced at the screen again. “All monitoring and reception gear cooling systems are online. All transmission computers are active and optimized.” He looked down at a big, red button for a moment and then pressed it. “Particles released. The transmission has begun.”

Outside there was a noticeably louder rumbling as half a ton of ions began accelerating down the massive particle acceleration track. It faded as the particles moved away from the base at low speed, but as they came around the track in only fifteen seconds the rumbling came back more intensely than before. On the screen in front of him he could see that the particles were now moving two thousand kilometers per second. Over the course of two minutes they continued to accelerate up to relativistic velocities, reaching well over 99% of the speed of light.

“Collision phase commencing,” he said as he watched a timer count down in front of him. As it hit zero there was a massive rumbling as the particles in the accelerator were forced together by a powerful supermagnet array to create a small version of the big bang. Powerful seismic waves shook the base as the particles collided. At the relativistic velocities they were propelled to, each Ion carried the same amount of momentum as a turbolaser. On screens around the room his fellow physicists watched readouts of the tachyon and graviton output. Unlike the prior test, this one did not stop with one explosion. There was a string of approximately eighty taking place at varying intervals due to their use of Morse code for the transmissions. Throughout the broadcast Malik carefully watched the cooling readings for the accelerator and reactors with his hand ready on the kill button. If any of them reached the red zone he could cut them off instantly. Fortunately the massive cooling systems that accompanied Futuregate’s reactors were up to the task, and none of the reactors left the green zone.

All of a sudden the world was quiet except for a whine as most of the base’s power generators and portions of the electrical distribution grid went off line. After thirty seconds even that was gone, and the base was silent as a grave. “Transmission Test successfully concluded,” he said. “We are awaiting a response.”

One Month after meeting with Kach Thorton
Mechis III

Trachta sat quietly in his garden office at the top of the Tower, Mechis III's administrative building that Trachta had taken years ago as his private citadel away from the busy activity of the Empire's Core. The planet itself, a major manufacturing center for the droids utilized by the Empire was also a major equipment supplying world for the ISB. Even with only a month worth of work Trachta was using his private little fiefdom, the Mechis Cluster, to begin a quiet and gradual build up of COMPNOR operatives. No one really cared to pay much attention to the Empire's internal security mechanism, too focused on issues from outside the Empire to really care what the cybernetic Director of COMPNOR was doing. His plans to aid Thorton would take a bit more time and planning, spreading out the necessary agents even as he had already begun to quietly slip agents into the Imperial Holonet network. He was digging his claws slowly and gradually into the Imperial infrastructure, focusing on the major logistical areas of the Empire.

"Sir, the prototype is ready for you to view," chimed the voice from his desk com of one of his droid specialists.

Trachta nodded and walked across the well kept garden he spent his time within while on Mechis III most of the time to the turbolift. He slotted one of his specially encrypted code cylinders into a socket and the turbolift quickly went down until it passed the floors of the vast administrative tower into the crust of Mechis III. Deep below and built only after Trachta had taken the planet over was a secret research facility for development of new droids for use by the Empire. One such model was the droid prototype he was now going below the surface to be seen. The journey took about fifteen minutes considering how deeply hidden the facility was under the surface before the doors slid open.

"Welcome to lab, Director," said a smiling Arkanian scientist.

"Doctor Ertho, I assume the prototype is ready?" Trachta asked in very business-like tones, never really carrying for the often strangely cheerful Arkanian scientist.

"But of course, please follow me," Dr. Ertho said as he began leading Trachta further into the scientific bunker past an array of droid prototypes including a rather familiar looking ball like the one Trachta kept in his office on Coruscant.

Ertho engaged Trachta in his usual inane conversations which the cyborg responded to with terse and basic answers, not really willing to ever tell the scientist much of anything. He had no issue with what Ertho was as much as his annoying personality which seemed to be in full swing today. It wasn't until they entered Ertho's office and Trachta found himself looking at a second Ertho that he stopped in place, looking between the two of them.

"Magnificent, isn't?" The other Ertho asked eagerly as he walked over to stand by his copy.

"Then again which of us is the copy?" The one that had greeted Trachta now asked.

Trachta looked between them, taken aback slightly as he tried to scan them with his internal cybernetics and he still couldn't discern which one was artificial. He wouldn't like this situation one bit if he wasn't the one funding the project for a new model of a Human Replica Droid.

"So which of you is the droid?" Trachta asked with curiosity as he walked around the pair who were now smiling smugly.

"The correct term is Advanced Human Replica Droid, Director." The second one answered.

"And as to the copy, I'll turn it off," The first said and pulled out a control and clicking a button.

Trachta was shocked as that one then suddenly froze, its eyes staring blankly ahead as the second Ertho grinned widely now.

"I imagine you weren't expecting that, were you?" Ertho asked eagerly.

"I was not, and I would be annoyed if you had not managed to make such a perfect copy. It even registers as being alive," Trachta said as he walked around the now deactived Replica Droid.

"Admittedly I had to program it with my brain algorithms for it to act exactly like me, but it will pass for an organic no matter how hard they look as long as now one cuts it open and digs too deeply," Ertho said with amusement as he watched the cyborg examine his prototype.

"How many of these can you make if provided a full production facility and resources," Trachta asked calmly and looked at Ertho.

"You mean you want to actually put this project into large scale production?" Ertho asked in astonishment yet his eye gleaming with eagerness to take on such a challenge.

"Yes, so how many?" Trachta demanded more sharply.

"Well, initinally only maybe 50 or so a month. Once I get down the correct production technique I imainge I could make 100 a month without too much fuss as long as I have the bio materials and electronics needed for work this complex."

"Then make preparations, we're expanding this facility with a full scale HRD production plant," Trachta said as he turned and left a stunned Ertho gaping as his back.

Project Homoculus had begun.