It had oft been said that if there were a bright centre to the galaxy, Coruscant would be it. Looking down on the capital of the Galactic Empire from the flagdeck of the Star Destroyer Nirvana, Bhindi Drayson could not help but agree.

They had emerged on the night side of the city world, and a billion tiny specks of light shone up from her surface like a billion candles, blowing in the wind. The seeming wind, though, were merely the clouds moving across the tops of the buildings, in some cases lower than the buildings, unable to block out completely the incredible array of lights from the surface.

Bhindi had visited the world more than once as a child, spending time in the old Imperial Palace and as a teenager in the many shopping centres and entertainment districts the planet had to offer.

That had been before her mother had died and her father been killed, and before Coruscant had become once more an Imperial world. It was, she decided, far more superior an Imperial world than it ever was a Republic one. The New Republic had abandoned Coruscant, leaving the city planet to rot in its own perpetual hell.

The Empire had changed that. They had brought order to chaos, the chaos of the riots sprung forth by the Republic's invasion of Eriadu. They had solidified Coruscant, renamed her, and made her the capital of the galaxy.

As for the Republic, it had withered and died, leaving only the Galactic Coalition to stand against the might of the New Order. Bhindi smiled as she looked down on the planet. There was indeed a bright centre to the galaxy.

Behind her, the turbolift doors hissed open and Deusvult Godridge stepped into the dimly lit room.

"We've been assigned an orbit and given permission to land." He said, and Bhindi turned away from the viewports. "You're nervous, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Being summoned to Imperial Centre by a member of the Imperial High Command isn't something that happens every day, Deusvult." She said. Her voice, he noticed, was somewhat strained. The mission to Empress Teta, while successful, had been very stressful. The lack of intelligence that they had recieved from the system, compared to most others, and the last minute plans and split second decisions, had been taxing.

And then returning to find a summons to the capital, from none other than Marshall Amicus, the oldest and highest ranking member of the High Command.

"Well, it can't be bad news, can it? They were probably just impressed with your work at Empress Teta."

She nodded.

"Yes. And what if they expect more work like that, and we can't deliver? We've already given them the Demosthesian Empire in less than a month, and Empress Teta in a week. Where will their expectations lie after that?"

"They will expect continued service to the Empire." The other said simply. "Which we can deliver."

Bhindi nodded and turned back to the viewports.

"Ready my shuttle, Commander. We leave in local the morning."



The Imperial Palace, in its present form, had existed for just over four hundred years. It was built in the early days of the Old Republic by Chancellor Diobo as a place for him and his delegates to meet in secret, a more than modest home near the ground level of Coruscant.

Since then, it had been used by Chancellors of all sorts, until the ancient Senate Hall was destroyed by a suicide bomber. Then-Chancellor Tazzle moved his seat of operations to the old house, and began to expand it.

Over time, it grew to over one thousand rooms, with an attatched Senate Hall and conference rooms, offices, and living quarters. Coruscant flourished, and brought with it a new age of construction and development, and like all other buildings, the Palace grew upwards towards the clouds. It reached its peak almost four hundred years before the Battle or Endor.

The building was huge, with flat expanses of concrete expanding from it in all directions, as if to keep Coruscant's teaming mass of development at bay. The roof was sloped only slightly, with several towers protruding from it. It was decorated, outside and in, with a thousand different forms of artwork and archietecture.

The last time Bhindi had seen the building had been when the New Republic had control of the planet, almost ten years prior. Back then it had been somewhat more dilapidated than it was now, the lack of a central government residing within its walls having taken its toll on the building. Now however, it was gleaming in the morning sun.

A flight of TIE Defenders rose up from one of its many landing pads and formed into escort formation as the shuttle carrying Bhindi Drayson and Deusvult Godridge descended below the cloud cover.

Bhindi looked down on the city below (and, for that matter, beside them as well). It had been years since she had visited Coruscant, but it never really changed much. The same buildings rose into the same sky, the same endless lanes of speeders moved across the sky.

It was a city where the rich prospered and so did the criminals, and where the politicians could sit and talk about how the people were their only concern, and look out a window - any window - and see some of them, down there.

But for Bhindi Drayson, it was only another planet. The capital of the New Order, yes, and a highly populated planet, but only another planet. She had never been interested in Coruscant as some had, never dreamt of seeing buildings that rose into the clouds. She would much rather see Kashyyyk, where the trees rose past the clouds and the natives blended living with their ecosystem.

Coruscant was a dead world.

The shuttle set down at the base of the Palace's North Tower, where Bhindi and Deuvult were met by a Liuetenant Xeron and led into the palace. He did not speak, merely dropped them off at their assigned room, made sure they knew how to reach their tempoary quarters, and bid them a good day.

Marhsall Amicus arrived scarecely a minute later and introduced himself to the two. He seemed pleased to meet Bhindi, especcially, and assured her that he had heard much about her. Godridge was instructed by the Marshall to wait outside, which he did with some reluctance.

"Thank you, Marhsall." She said, somewhat akwardly. She still did not, after all, know the purpose of the summons.

"I would like to conratgulate you on your victory in the Empress Teta system." Amicus said, seating himself and motioning for Bhindi to do so as well. "Isolationists can be tricky to deal with, at times. And I hear you did it with an exceptionally small number of casualties, too. Very good work all around, I'd say."

"Yes, sir. We lost half a dozen fighters and their pilots, but the enemy lost a lot more."

"Yes, yes. But not a single casualty on the surface of Cinnigar on either side, and only a handful on Koros Major! Splendid, Admiral. You know, loss of life, especcially on the defender's side, often makes for bad public relations and a distaste for the imposing force. But both Koros Major and Cinnigar were brought willingly into the Empire!"

Bhindi nodded, almost at a loss for words. He did not need to bring her to Coruscant to congratulate her, nor did he need to send Deusvult away to do so.

"But surely I did not summon you here simply to congratulate you on your fine work." Amicus went on. "I know that a commander of your status must have demands on her time, and I understand that." He smiled secretively. "The issue, I'm afraid, is much more serious."

He stood and opened what Bhindi had previouisly assumed to be a set of drapes. Instead, however, there was a flat screen monitor mounted on the wall. The Marhshall removed a remote control device from his pocket and clicked the unit on.

"You are aware, of course, that several months ago you brought the worlds of Bilbringi and Rishi into the Holy Demosthesian Empire," he said, "and that in doing so you destroyed an organization known as the 'Ridge Confederacy'. Where the name comes from, I have no idea."

Bhindi did know, but she said nothing as images of the battle began to appear on the screen.

"However, recent reports from our agents in the field - the agents of Imperial Intelligence, who have nothing to do with you - have been sending some reports of disturbing events around those two worlds. Nothing serious - yet - but they worry us.
"Our sources indicate that they are some surviving aspect of the Ridge Confederacy, attempting to destabilize the Empire, the Ubiqtorate especcially."

He paused, searhing for a reaction from Bhindi. When he got none, he went on.

"Under the orders of Grand Marshall Kaine, I cannot order you to do anything. However, I am recomending as stronly as possible, that you move on the Reecee system and bring them into the Empire. Seak out the rest of the Ridge Confedercy and destroy them."

He stopped, ran a hand through his hair, and when he spoke again his voice was low, almost seclusive.

"Admiral, you must know that the Empire has always been a very biased organization. They never liked women, and they never liked aliens. There was a reason Thrawn was choosen to map the Unknown Regions, and why Daala was choosen to head the Maw Installation. They prefered to keep women out of the spotlight.

"You, however, have been in the spotlight since you arrived here with the Empire. There are those in the Imperial High Command who do not wish to see you in command of a region, who would prefer instead to send you to the outer rim and manage a waste disposal plant or some such dribble.

"We both know you are far to skilled to let them have their way, but some of them will stop at nothing to strip you of command. Be careful, Admiral. It is a dangerous galaxy, and not all the dangers are external."

Hyperspace | En-route to Yaga Minor

"So, what did he want?" Godridge asked, falling into step beside Bhindi as she exited her quarters. She was frowning, and he knew that something was wrong. Something had been wrong, in fact, since the meeting with Amicus, but she had been unwilling to discuss it until they were well on their way.

"We have a problem." Bhindi said, handing him a datapad with the information about the Ridge Confederacy on it. Godridge read it over as they made their way to the bridge.

"God damn." He said, handing the datapad back. "They're really getting ready for something big, aren't they?"

Bhindi nodded.

"And we had no idea they even existed. Amicus basically ordered us to move on Reecee and wipe them out."

"'Basically?'"

"According to him, he's not actually allowed to issue us orders. More of a very strong suggestion. But not a bad one, if these reports are accurate."

"You think the Marshall had reason to lie to you?" The turbolift arrived, and the two of them stepped inside.

"Maybe. Maybe not." She paused. "But then, why did he give me that extra warning?" Godridge only looked at her blankly, and she realized that she hadn't told him about the rest of their conversation.

"Amicus slipped me a warning about threats from the inside. Apparently," the turbolift doors slid open again and they stepped out, "there are some on the High Command who are not pleased with a woman in a position of power. Anti alien, anti woman bias."

"I wonder what they would do about a female alien?" Godridge asked in mock seriousness.

"Probably keel over right there of a stroke." Bhindi replied thoughtfully. "Not a bad idea, as a matter of fact. Where can we find a female alien with a knack for tactics?"

Both of them chuckled.

"So he's worried that there might be something coming from inside the Palace?"

"Apparently. The High Command has some pretty fucked up figures on it, you know. Did you hear about Admiral Tredok?"

"I've heard of him. Does he serve with the High Command?"

"Used to. He was killed - excuted, rather - after the last meeting." She said this lightly, as if discussing the evening's dinner menu.

"You're kidding!"

"Nope. Slaughtered by our friend, Marhsall Amicus. He went off on a rant about Demosthesian-woman-Admirals, and Amicus decided he'd had enough."

"Seems like you have a friend inside the High Command, at any rate."

"I'm not sure. Tredok's death takes away one element of dislike on the panel itself, but it could very spur more active hatred. Mark my words, lots of the old Imperials still hate the idea of women in command positions. And I'm sure Admiral Tredok had like-thinking friends who can make life difficult."

"Hence Amicus' warning."

"Yeah. But I'm wondering if that was just a friendly warning, or if he knows something. And if so, why didn't he tell me?"

Neither of them had an answer to that question, and they had arrived by now on the bridge. It was nearly empty, only a few neccessary officers remaining on duty to oversee the vessel's passage through hyperspace.

"Admiral Drayson, Commander Godridge." Captain Joda had noticed them at last, and rushed over offering his usual salute.

"Captain Joda." Bhindi replied evenly. "No problems, I hope?" The Captain shook his head.

"Nope. We're making good time, should be at Yaga Minor in just under eight hours."

"Very good Captain." She started to turn away, then stopped and looked back at Joda. "Tell me, Captain," she said suddenly, "there is a rebel cell on which you have limited intelligence. They do not know that you know about them, and you must decide on a course of action. What do you do?"

Joda pondered the question for a moment. He seemed to come up with an answer relitively quickly, but spent another minute or two trying to determine which current problem Bhindi may be talking about. Finally, he reached the conclusion that he didn't know, and spoke.

"It seems to me, Admiral, that if you attempt to attack them, you reveal your knowledge of them. And while if the attack is successful, you still win, there are variables. What if the attack fails, or is incomplete, or there are other rebel cells who now know you know about them?"

He paused, seeking approval. Bhindi offered a slight nod, and he went on.

"I think that the most efficient means of dealing with them would be indirect confrontation. Dispatch some agents, independent of one another. Get inside them, and then lead them into a trap that none will escape from."

He stopped again, and when it was obvious he was finished Bhindi thanked him, and she and Godridge left the bridge again.

"So," Godridge said as the doors to the Ready Room slid shut, "do we send in the fleet, or do we go for 'indirect confrontation'?"

Bhindi smiled thinly.

"We do both, Deusvult." She said. "I'll send Drev and Tek, the two we used on Rishi, and maybe Commander Drif, to Reecee to infiltrate their cell. At the same time, we'll visit the planet with an offer of entrance into the New Order. A diplomatic envoy, if you will."

"Are you sure it is wise to go yourself, Admiral?" Godridge asked.

"No. But I want to be there in case there is something of concern."

After a moment of tense silence, the Commander spoke again.

"You know, Admiral, I don't think the Empire has ever tried that." He said.

"What?"

"Asking a system to join them first. If the High Command doesn't hate you already, they certainly will afer this."

Both of them laughed at that.

"Of course, Commander, the diplomatic envoy is purely for show. I neither expect nor intend for them to succeed. Reecee was for to long under the influence of IDTech, and then the Ridge Confederacy. They will not willingly accept our rule."

"But they will accept it in due time."

Bhindi smiled thinly.

"They always do."

The fleet - a single Star Destroyer and a handful of support ships, including three Constrainer Class Interdiction Pickets, - arrived in the Reecee system shortly after the local midday. They immediatly took up positions some distance from the planet, their presence easily deterring the civilian freighters and transports.

Captain Joda, standing on the mercifully silent bridge of the Nirvana, looked out at the columns of traffic that had broken to form a sort of oval around the location of the small fleet, and smiled. If there was any indicator of the New Order's infinite might and power, this was it.

The people of this world, a world that did not even belong to the Empire (yet, he reminded himself with a slight smile), had made room for the New Order without even the neccessity of an order.

"Have we recieved a hail from the planet yet?" He asked in the general direction of the communications officer. The man checked his board, then shook his head.

"Negative, Captain. The boards are clear." That, Joda reflected, was strange. Most governments would immediatly inquire into the presence of an Imperial task force in their system. Perhaps the Empire had frightened them, or they simply did not wish to bother their uninvited guests. The group had, after all, not yet entered the system proper, but were hovering on its edges.

"Very well. Continue scanning, and transmit our transponder if they ask for it. Otherwise, mantain com silence." He turned slightly, and got the attention of another officer.

"Ensign, get me a reading on the planet." He ordered. "I want a full radar scan, as soon as possible. Any incosistencies with our records should be brought up immediatly."

The man acknoweldged with a nod and went about his task. Joda, casting one last look at the planet below, settled back into the Captain's chair and called up the last updated records of Reecee.

The world had been held for years by the monolithic Corporation known as IDTech, and was as a result a capitalist nightmare of a world. The government was propped up by the various corporations that had arisen some six years earlier, when all communications had been lost with the planet.

Joda scrolled back to that part of the report. There was dozens, hundreds even, of worlds with which the Empire had lost contact with in the ensuring chaos of the Wrath epidemic and the rise of the New Empire, and had not yet had time to reestablish. But, if the report was to be trusted, they had lost communications nearly a year before that disaster.

He attempted to call up more data on the planet, but found that there was none available. The world's history was lacking six years worth of activity, from the time communications were lost to the time Commander Drif and his team had arrived on the world.

Filing the information for future reference, he went about his other duties as Captain of the warship.



The room was, not unsually, dim. The only light came from the stars outside, visible through the viewports that lined one of the walls.

The very tip of Reecee, the planet's Northern Pole, was just visible, if one were to strain their eyes to the far right and lean forward in their seats.

The room's doors slid open, letting in a shower of light that silhouetted the group of young liutenants who entered the room, led by Commander Deusvult Godridge.

Most of them seemed taken aback by the darkened room, and their eyes were drawn to the starscape outside. A few, however, held Bhindi Drayson's gaze as it swept over them.

With a curt nod, she gestured for them to seat themselves around the conference table.

"Ladies, gentlemen," she said, "we are discussing several things today. The first of which," she indicated the reports spread along the table, "is intelligence. I have several reports here which you are to read, digest, and decide upon the course of action you would take, given the materials we currently have in the Reecee system." She smiled thinly. "If you require more light, you may read in the hallway."

That, as they all knew, was a subtle way of telling them any who would protest, to leave. No one moved for a moment, then they all reached forward and opened the folders in front of them.

It would take some time for them to read through the paperwork, and Bhindi stood in front of the viewports, hands clasped behind her back in a manner that was drawn straight out far to many holodramas. Godridge, tired of reading information he already knew over the backs of the officers (some of whom happened to be older than Bhindi herself), walked over to stand next to her.

"Still no hail from the planet." He reported in hushed tones.
Bhindi nodded.
"Continue scanning. I want to know immediatly if anything comes up." She stopped, considering for a moment. "Tell them to record any encypted messages they pick up as well, and begin decyption on them. There might be someone down there talking."

Godridge lifted his comlink to his mouth, and Bhindi turned to the officers.

"Well?" She demanded of one man, in particular. "What would you recomend?"

The officer straightened and threw his chest out, a rediculous motion that Bhindi instantly translated to mean he was pompous, probably the son of a rich Muunilist family who did not know his place.

"We go in force." He said, as if whatever his plan, it should be followed immediatly. "We attack the planet and route out the Rebels, then we slaughter them." He stopped, seaking approval from Bhindi's expressionless face.

She nodded slowly.

"Can someone tell me why that plan will not work?" She asked, addressing the group. One of the others, a woman who looked to be about Bhindi's age, raised a hand.

"Yes, Ma'am. While an attack on the planet could, presumably, achieve the ends we require, we do not know the complete picture regarding the Rebels. It could be possible that we miss some, and in any event it will alert them to what knowledge we do have, meaning any surviving elements would dig themselves deeper in."

"Very well. What would your course of action be, then?"

"We should gather more intelligence." She said. "And destroy them from within."

Bhindi nodded.

"And you?" She indicated the next man in line.

"We ignore it. These rebels cannot hope to pose a threat to the Empire. We are above them."

"But they could prove a hinderence, no?" Bhindi asked.

"A small issue, which would be easily dealt with." The man responded fiercly. "We would crush them with ease."

"I'm sure that Emperor Palpatine said the very same thing about the Rebellion, Liuetenant."

Behind her, Commander Godridge snickered.

The next man was in favour of a military strike, hard and fast at the heart of the rebellion. The one after him favoured a more tactical strike, a land based attack and beafed up security around the Ubiqtorate.

The Admiral acknowledged each of the opinions with a mere nod, sometimes stopping to offer comments or questions, each one scathing. Only those who recieved a nod dared to breath a sigh of relief.

"You have all proven yourselves to be fools." She said after the last, a woman, had spoken. "Or rather, most of you." She indicated a large number of the group. "You are excused. You will follow Commander Godridge to be reassigned."

Eleven people stood, leaving only the woman who had spoken second seated at the table. The other members of the party shot her looks of intense hatred, which the woman ignored. Her eyes were fixed on Bhindi.

When the last of the ex-party members had been herded from the room, the Admiral spoke again.

"You would gain more intelligence?" She said. The woman nodded.

"I would, were it neccessary. You, of course, have further intelligence that you did not share with us."

Bhindi was taken aback by that. But then, she considered, it was not something that a smart mind could not discover. She nodded.

"Speculation, more than intelligence. There are some Imperial minds who dislike the idea of women in the power spectrum. Three weeks ago, one of them was killed by a pro-female member of the High Command. Then, two weeks ago, reports began coming in of rebel activity in this sector."

She paused.

"What do you make of that?"

"This is only speculation, of course." The women said. She did not show fear of speaking ill of superiors, only a slight concern. That pleased Bhindi. "There are some members of the Imperial High Command who have been funding, or otherwise assisting, the rebels. They do this in order to see you discredited, or better yet (from their point of view), killed."

"And this is influenced soley because I am a woman?"

"No. There is also the fact that you were a member of the Holy Demosthesian Empire. That you betrayed them and participated in their destruction matters not, you were part of a hersay that they wish to see exteriminated permenantly. You are an unwelcome reminder of that." The Liutenant paused. "You also wield to much power, in their eyes. The Ubiqtorate is the largest, or one of the largest, sectors of the Empire. They are afraid of you."

Bhindi let her finish, then nodded.

"Anything else?"

"No, Admiral." The other responded, meeting the Admiral's gaze evenly.

"Very well. You should know, Liuetenant, that we currently have agents infiltrating the rebels' cells, and are prepared to launch an attack whenever neccessary."

The women swelled, somewhat, with pride. She had predicted that Bhindi Drayson would do as such, but hearing it said was heartwarming.

"Any questions?"

"Yes, one." She answered. "What will happen to the others?"

Bhindi frowned, debating for a moment whether to answer. But the Liuetenant presumably already knew, and was simply testing the Admiral, which raised another set of questions entirely.

"They will be incinerated." She answered simply. "The Empire mustn't allow fools to reach power. It happened many times in the past, and the Empire nearly fell. It will not happen again."

The Liuetenant nodded, barely blinking at the fate of her comrades, and left the room.

Bhindi looked after her for a moment, and smiled. She would make a fine senior officer. If she could avoid the traps laid by those who detested women with such passion.







"Still no word from the planet?" Bhindi asked, stepping onto the bridge. Captain Joda spun around, surprised at the sudden voice, and snapped off a hasty salute.

"None whatsoever." He reported once the formalities were done with. "But we have picked up some chatter. All heavily encypted. We haven't had any luck cracking it, though."

"You've tried all of the old Rishi Confederacy codes we had on file?" The Admiral asked, frowning. Imperial crackers were some of the best, that they couldn't crack a code was a matter of some irritation. In time, they would, that much she knew for certain, but time they did not have in vast quantities. In all liklihood, by the time they cracked the messages they would be useless.

"That was the first thing we tried, actually." Joda said. "In fact, the codes seem to be more similar to our own, if that makes any sense."

"Imperial codes?"

"That's what they look like. Or so the crackers say. They've been at them for a couple hours now. The messages keep coming in, but they're all short and a little bit different. It's proving quite the challenge."

Bhindi nodded slowly. If the rebels were communicating with an outside force...

"Prepare my shuttle." She said suddenly. "I want to leave in three hours. Contact the planet, inform them that I will be arriving on their world shortly. I want a full sqaudron of Defenders standing ready, and all ships on alert."

Joda nodded, dazzled by the sudden string of orders, but questioning nothing. There was little he could do but carry them out. The Admiral was up to something.



The shuttle descended warily though the last layer of clouds, both the pilot and the co-pilot keeping a careful eye out for anything out of the ordinary.

The world was surprisingly clean, with a few signs of recent (or perhaps not so recent) battle. Joda had mentioned a fact that Bhindi had overlooked, Reccee's lack of communications for a long period of time. She had shrugged it off, but it might just be something important...

The ship was coming in towards the landing platform when a comlink crackled. It took Bhindi a moment to realise it was her personal unit.

"Yes?"

It was Captain Joda, and he sounded anxious.

"You asked to be informed of any developments. Well, we just cracked those messages. I'll transmit you the last one."

Bhindi acknowledged and signed off. The ship was on its last approach as her datapad chimed, indicating a transmission.

She read it, almost carelessly, before dropping the unit and tearing her crash straps off.

"Pilot!" She yelled, running into the cockpit. "Get us out of here!" The pilot looked at her for a moment as if she were mad, then yanked back on the controls. The shuttle rose steeply, throughing the Admiral back into the passenger compartment.

The only sound for a moment was the straining of the ship's repulsors, and then there was a deafening boom. Below them, the landing pad had exploded. One of the Defenders was limping, having been struck by a piece of debris as it made its approach.

The intercom crackled into life.

"Admiral, we have fighters incoming. Looks like three sqaudrons of A-9 Vigilance Interceptors."

Bhindi swore. The TIEs were better fighters, and she presumed her pilots would be as well, but three against one were not odds she would prefer to put up with.

"Get us out of here!" She returned, strapping herself in. Once more, her comlink buzzed, and she grabbed at it.

"Joda?" There was no time for formalities.

"Yeah. We've got unfriendlies coming in fast. Two Imperator Class Star Destroyers, three Victory Class. They're launching fighters - TIEs and A9s. There's more, too. Looks like what's left of the Ridge Confederacy have come to join in the fun."

Bhindi let out another stream of curses. There was obviously Imperial influence behind this attack.

"Alert Group Two." She ordered. "And send a transmission to Yaga Minor and Bilbringi. Request reinforcements, ah-sap. I'll be with your shortly."

Joda signed off in a flurry of new orders.

"Well," Bhindi said as the shuttle shuddered, "at least we know why the government wasn't bothering to hail us."

In light of the situation, however, that knowledge wasn't particularly comforting.

Fleet Group 2 - Reign Class Star Destroyer Oscaliath

"Captain," the officer said, his voice low and coming from directly behind Captain Edwards, "we're recieving an urgent message from the Admiral in the Reecee system."

Captain Edwards tapped a final key on the station in front of him, returning the engineering console to its standard interface, and nodded his approval at the young officer in charge of the station.

"Good work, ensign. Continue monitoring these levels for me."

Then, straightening with the air that more than two decades in the Imperial fleet gave to a man, he turned to address the man who had spoken earlier.

"What does the Admiral want, Colonel?" He asked, stepping away and speaking low enough that the other men in the crew pit could not hear (though they would try, of course).

"The Nirvana has fallen under attack. We're to jump to Reecee and assist her task force with all due haste."

"Very well." He began to walk down the crew pit, ascending the stairs near the back of the bridge and calling out to the crew on the top level.

"Navigation, input a course to the Reecee system. Helm, bring the ship to full speed when nav is ready for you."

The Captain settled himself into the commander's chair and bit his lip. If the Admiral was facing enough trouble in Reecee to require the assistance of the second flotilla, then there must be trouble indeed. Not many ships - especcially those owned by independents - could hope to take on an Imperial lineship with odds of winning. And the Nirvana was significantly more powerful than the average Imperial lineship.

"Course laid in, Captain." A voice came from the nav station. And soon after, another from the helm.

"Vessel underway, Captain."





Fleet Group 1 - Reecee System

"I want to know where the hell those ships came from!" The Admiral said as she stepped onto the bridge of the Nirvana. Already two enemy Star Destroyers had closed into firing range with the Archangel Star Destroyer, and the two sides were exchanging fire at what the naval experts would call 'optimum range'.

"We're working on that, Admiral." Captain Joda said, as another shudder rocked the vessel. "They're trajectory indicates somewhere in the core. But of course they could have mico-jumped in, in which case-"

"Save it for the debriefing, Captain. Where's the Oscaliath?"

"She should be here soon, Admiral. Our interdictors will pull her out right next to the enemy, more or less."

Bhindi grimaced. Thrawn's old mico-jump tactic, using Interdictors to force ships to revert to realspace right next to an opponent, had been proven an effective, if dangerous, stunt. If it failed, chances were the Osciliath and her entire crew would be lost.

But even as those thoughts raced through her head, the two kilometre length of the Reign Star Destroyer appeared, weapons already firing on the surprised enemy forces. Along with the Osciliath came two smaller, but equally lethal, Imperator Star Destroyers and two Star Avengers, smaller versions of the Attack Sphere with their own compliment of remote controlled fightercraft.

The first of the enemy Star Destroyers was now caught between the converging fire of the Nirvana and the
Tyrant, one of two newly arrived Star Destroyers. The other had been boxed in between the Osciliath and the final Imperial Star Destroyer, the Devestator. Both were being quickly overhwhelmed, their fighter support stripped away by the superior numbers of the TIEs and Starfury Class vessels.

The first steared her bow away from the group and engaged her engines, leaving the remaining four ships to battle against the Imperial fleet. The others, however, seemed to loose spirit with the departure of half their main combat force. The Victory Star Destroyers, forgetting their fighters, turned to follow.

The final vessel, fires now burning in several spots on her hull, was caught in the tractor beams of the Osciliath and pummelled under her Executive Officer surrendered.

The Captain, she said, was no longer in any condition to command the vessel.





"The government of Reecee extends its most gracious thanks for your... intervention with those disgruntled Imperials, Moff Drayson," the official's hologram said, "Lord knows what may have happened if they had been allowed to assault Reecce unchecked."

Bhindi nodded politely. The battle had ended some hours previously, and it had taken that long to get through to the government again. Something was up, that much she was sure of.

"The Empire exists to protect its citizens, Ambassador." She returned evenly, allowing the man to hear the emphasis on it's citizens. "If there is a way you can repay us, we will be sure to let you know."

"Of course. Thank you again, Admiral. Good day." The hologram flickered out, casting the room into semidarkness.

"He seemed absolutely thrilled with our presence." Godridge commented from the table. Bhindi smirked.

"I'm sure he was trying to overcome his disapoitment that his stunt on the landing platform didn't kill us all. That sort of rejection can be hard to deal with."

"Personal experiance?"

"Not likely, Commander. But I've seen people." She paused, smiling. "We're going to have to deal with the Ambassador, of course." She said.

"How?" Without even looking at her, Godridge knew it was another one of these games she played. She had it all fully thought out allready; he was just someone she could rely on to figure it out before anyone else did.

"Have you ever heard of IDTech?" She asked.

"Monolithic Corporation based on Reecee, led by one Heir Raktus. Mostly defunct, but still broadcasts on the holonet occasionally. Usually to insult people of lesser intellect."

"Exactly. IDTech, despite its somewhat... lessened size of late, still holds dominion over Reecee. Heir Raktus is gone, Lord knows where to. But I've opened negotiations with the rest of the company... in return for allowing them to remain their own company, they will deliver us Reecee, and any officials we can name."

"And then we allow IDTech to remain a neutral party on an Imperial world?" Bhindi laughed lightly.

"Of course not. But they don't know that."

"Won't they suspect a double cross?"

"Maybe. Probably. But they have less to loose if they help us than if they don't. The Empire will reopen Reecee to the rest of the galaxy - nationalized or not, IDTech will have a bigger market to sell their wares to once we've taken control of their world."

"If you say so, Admiral." Godridge got up from the table turned to the door, then stopped.

"What about the 'disgruntled Imperials'. What leads do we have on them?" Here, Bhindi smiled slightly.

"Intelligence points to a Demosthesian Rebel Cell that was trying to right past wrongs, or something like that. They were trying to say that the ships used to belong to the Holy Imperial fleet."

"Impossible. We accounted for every ship in the fleet, and we crushed the Rebels at Commenor. Where would a Rebel cell get that kind of firepower?" The Admiral's smile tightened.

"From someone that shares their feelings toward a certain female Admiral, Deusvult." She said softly. "Someone who has the power to dispatch those assets."

"You're saying that someone in the High Command offered those ships to a former Demosthesian, in order to attack you?"

"I am. And it was someone stupid enough to let himself be tracked." Godridge's gaped.

"Who?"

"High Admiral Tredok, of course." She said.

"But Tredok is dead. He was killed weeks ago."

"Yes." Bhindi said. "High Admiral Kell Tredok was killed weeks ago. Luther Tredok, the original's replacement, was just recently appointed to his father's position."

"His son?" Godridge asked, evidently at a loss for words.

"If the records are to be believed. I have reason to believe he was not born to Mrs. Tredok, but that is not the issue at hand."

"And Tredok sent those ships here for you?"

"It certainly seems that way. The Fondor garrison is missing two of its Imperator Star Destroyers, and three other Victory Class are on assignment from various other locations. They're all listed as being on 'Long-term Assignments'."

"What do we do about it?" Godridge asked.

"Treason is punishable by Death in the Empire, Commander. Since High Admiral Tredok is comitting Treason, it is our duty as Imperials to bring justice to him." She smiled. "But first, we have to finish up here."

Reecee | Surface

The headquarters of IDTech - rebuilt since the devestation that had happened years ago, before Wrath and before everything else - were a pale brown colour in the morning sun. The building, a tall, rounded pillar with landing platforms and balconies jutting out almost at random starting halfway up the side, stood in the centre of the capital's commercial district - a commercial district that the Corporation owned to the last vendor.

The Catastrophe - an event, Bhindi gathered - that matched the time of the loss of communications with Reecee - was a subject the people brought up from time to time. Always when they did it was with a grimace. Obviously, it was a sore subject.

"We're not entirely sure who they were." Their guide had told them when they arrived. "Or what they wanted. They blockaded our system and attacked us without mercy. They did not care about the distinction of military and civilian, nor for their own losses, few as those were. While the galaxy battled the New Empire and the Wrath virus, things we only found out again after they were long dead, we suffered in silence."

"Yet you survived. Reecee still stands. And thrives." Bhindi had pointed out.

"Yes. It does. Something, we do not know what, drove the Invaders to retreat. They fled, and we have been rebuilding ever since."

He had said no more of the Invasion, but went on to speak of the commercial side of the planet.

"You know that during the time of the Republic, a number of planets where what you might call World Corporations, or Corporate Planets."

Their guide had told them, leading them past the shops and stores that sold the people of Reecee all of their wares.

"Reecee harkened back to those old days. During the Empire, and the New Republic that followed, World Corps where few and far between. They still are, in fact. Most Corporations do not have the resources to control an entire world, and those that do, such as the Vinda-Corporation, make their revenue elsewhere."

The shops were all large and professional looking, with well-made clothing and equipment lavishly displayed in the windows. Obviously, this was where those who made the most money returned it to the Corporation.

"IDTech was different. They controlled Reecee entirely. They employed all of its citizens - you will note the distinct lack of homelessness here - and owned everything. A person could work for a day and earn a hundred credits, if they were skilled. But wherever they speant that money, it ended up in the hands of the Corpoation anyway."

The guide (who, of course, worked for the Corporation) seemed quite pleased with returning his paycheck to those who handed it out to him every week. Years of living under those conditions, Bhindi supposed, must make their mark on a person.

"What about the higher-ups in the Corporation? Do they spend their money here?"

She had asked. Rather amusing, really. The CEOs pay out money, and bring it all back in, with an extra added on for sales tax. Then, they buy things from their own shops and the money is returned to them, along with the taxes they paid on it.

"Sometimes. They prefer to shop off-world, though, for the most part. Many of the highest ranking members of the Corporation no longer live here."

"So who are we meeting?" She had asked.

"The Vice President of Reecee." Their guide had answered.





"Thank you for agreeing to see us on such short notice." Bhindi said, gazing around the mansion that belonged to Iirk Tyne, the IDTech Representitive who, as a Vice President, turned out to be the highest ranking employee of the Corporation in the sector.

"It is not a problem, Admiral." The other said, seating himself in one of the plush leather armchairs and lighting a thick cigar, then offering one to Bhindi.

"No, thank you." He nodded, puffing on the cigar and noding at her to continue. "You are aware, of course, of the recent battle that took place over Reecee?"

"Of course. The government kept quite a close eye on it. Or so I'm told." He smiled thinly. The man was quick, that much was immediatly obvious. What he knew, though, would take some digging to uncover.

"I am told," Bhindi said thoughtfully, "that the Government was informed of the attacks prior to their happening. Even that the government had a hand in orchestrating the attacks themselves."

Iirk Tyne said nothing for a moment, merely content to puff on his cigar. When he did reply, his words were slow and measured.

"The government of Reecee has certain... contacts... out of system, Admiral Drayson. What you must understand about them is that they were never really in control of the planet... even after the Catastrophe. IDTech always had complete control over the world."

"Until now." Bhindi broke in.

"Until now." The other conceded. "Somewhere, the Government managed to find some friends... allies. It was shortly after the Wrath virus was destroyed. They joined what was called the Ridge Confederacy, and they helped to keep IDTech from resurfacing as strongly as we had been previously. That is why we have no rebuilt our fleets and brought our planets back into the fold.

"But then, something happened. You and your Holy Demosthesian Empire destroyed the Ridge Confederacy, captured Bilbringi and Rishi and drove their fleets away.

"Reecee seemed ready to return completely to IDTech... but the Government found someone new. Someone with more power. And they set out to destroy the one who had smashed the Ridge Confederacy."

Bhindi was leaning forward, head resting on elbows, eyes alert.

"Who did they find?" She asked quickly. "Who helped them when the Ridgde Confederacy fell?"

The man smiled thinly and spread his hands.

"They found the Empire, Admiral."





"They found the Empire, Admiral?" Godridge repeated, dumbstruck. "Does that mean that Admiral Tredok was working with the Ridge Confederacy here?"

Bhindi, now sitting in the ready room aboard the Nirvana, nodded.

"Or what's left of the Confederacy. I think that our 'Rebel Cells' are little more than shams, now. They wanted to lure us here."

"To make it look like the Rebels were behind it."

"Exactly. If they had succeeded in killing me on the landing field, as they nearly did, it would have been a simple matter to ambush the Nirvana and destroy her. With Tredok's resources, he could have made it look like the ship was really lost fighting pirates or rebels."

Godridge let out a sigh.

"So the Ridge Confederacy..."

"Exists only in the minds of a few government officials who still cling to it. Our intelligence agents have already been recalled, they support this theory. They found nothing to indicate rebel organization of the size and threat we had assumed existed on Reecee."

"And where does that leave the Empire?" Godridge asked, looking out the viewports to the planet below.

The planet, he noticed, that had become far calmer in the last hour. The transports that normally crowded her skyways were gone, either holding still in orbit and unseen from ths distance or grounded below the clouds.

Bhindi had risen and was also looking at the planet below. Godridge frowned. He should have known that the Admiral was always one step ahead of him, keeping him dancing.

"Our transports have already delivered three garrisons to the surface. The army is finishing preperations for the securing of Reecee as we speak, Commander."

"And what about Vice President Tyne?" The other asked. "What does the head of the IDTech Corporation warrant on an Imperial-controlled planet?"

"He will be allowed to continue as he has always done. IDTech has served the Empire well today, Deusvult, and they are to be comended."

"Of course, Admiral."





Reecee - Surface


Earlier


"Are you sure the last transmission was correct?" Drev asked, looking at the datapad again and cursing. They had only just packed up to leave their current location when a final message came in on the secure line - not from the Admiral, but from the Rebel cell they were supposed to be infiltrating.

The one that they had just assured the Admiral did not exist.

"I'm sure, damnit." Tek replied, checking the charge on his blaster and shoving it into his holster. "They're arming to ambush one of the Imperial garrison groups."

"Is it to late to get a message to the Admiral, to warn them?" Tek nodded.

"By the time we got it encypted and sent, yes. They'd still die, and we would be free to explain why it happened."

Drev swore again and clipped his own blaster to his belt. The Rebel cell they had infiltrated was a small one, no more than ten people, but they knew the territory and (evidently) had the weapons to deal with an Imperial garrison group.

"Damnit, let's go. We've got once chance to stop this."


The meeting place was at an old fuel pumping station (one owned, surprisingly enough, by the Corporation) near the downtown district. There were seven people there when they arrived, everyone but the group's defacto leader.

"Where's Gren?" Drev growled as they approached. They didn't know about him and Tek yet - he hoped.

"She's doing a last surveillence." One of the others returned. "She'll be back any time now."

As if to proove his point, Gren came huffing into the group, smiling broadly.

"They're here. Places, people!" The group broke up, each member going to his or her assigned spot, mostly in the buildings lining the street. With a nod to Tek, Drev followed Gren into the pumping station.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She demanded, turning to face him. "You're supposed to be," Drev slid the vibroblade between her ribs with a soft 'Sorry' whispered in her ear. Letting her body fall beside him, he took the blaster from his waste and aimed it across the street, making a show of adjusting the site.

The Stormtroopers were soon in site, marching in parade formation down the centre of the street, blaster rifles held across their chests. The Rebels were not to fire until Gren did, and they held their fire.

All but Drev and Tek, who each fired three shots across the street. Two of the Rebels fell instantly, hit from behind by their companions.

The Stormtroopers sprung into action, spreading out and directing covering fire in the general direction of Drev and Tek (both of whom had vanished). Several of the Rebels were shot down instantly, torn between following the traitors or dealing with the Stormtroopers.

The rest were quickly and efficiently hunted down by the Imperial garrison. None of them knew the location of the other Rebel cells, but the Imperial forces quickly scowered the city and discovered two other plots within three hours.

By nightfall, with a Stormtrooper on each street corner and warnings posted, Reecee was securely under Imperial control.

The Present



The Imperial fleet left the Reecee system a week after the planet's introduction in the New Order. With the garrisons fully established and the rebel cells stamped out, there was little need for a force of warships as strong as the Black Fleet to remain.

A small group of transports, escorted by one of the Ubiqtorate's Star Avenger Assault Platforms was shceduled to arrive some days later to take charge of planetary defence mesasures, but for the moment Reecee was safe enough. The threats that now faced Admiral Bhindi Drayson and her little corner of the Empire had no use for Reecee.

The Nirvana and Osciliath flotillas set out early in the morning for Fondor, the capital world of High Admiral Luther Tredok. There was little doubt that the son of the deceased High Admiral Kell Tredok was the one behind the attack on the Black Fleet some days prior, and such treason was punishable by death under Imperial law.

Not all of the general staff had agreed with this, however. Commander Godridge had exchanged some heated words with Bhindi before the fleet sailed, and it was evident even now that he was not a fan of the assault.

"Attacking an Imperial High Admiral - especially one who is a member of the High Command - is not an option, Admiral!" He had said. "Whatever proof you may have, he is a member of the High Command. They'll have you shot for this, you know that!"

Now, as the fleet bore down on the shipyard facilities of Fondor, he was silent. His duty was to serve Admiral Drayson, and he would do so loyally until he died. But that did not mean he had to like everything she did.

"The New Order stands on a precarious perch, Commander." She said softly into the silence. "We have done away with the false Empires and the Religionists, but those who champion the ideoloigies of the Republic still exist. The Coalition may yet threaten the Empire."

Godridge did not respond, but Bhindi saw a slight movement in his body, and continued.

"The Empire cannot afford traitor's, Deusvult. If we must deal with both outside threats and those on the inside, the Empire will fail. That is why the Empire came so close to collapse after the Battle of Endor.

"The Empire, despite the loss of Palpatine and Vader, still held millions of worlds and commanded tens of thousands of warships. How could an insignificant Rebellion, with fewer than a hundred ships, hope to defeat the forces of the New Order?

"It was Palpatine that held the Empire together. He united all of its peoples into one all encompassing being. When Palpatine fell, the Empire splintered. Admirals abandoned it, Moffs looted their worlds and fled. The Empire became a mere shell of its former self, and it nearly fell apart utterly."

Godridge had not responded, but he was looking at Bhindi now, staring raptly at her as she spoke. The Admiral was still watching the viewports, where the blue-green orb that was Fondor was becoming clearer, as were the massive metal constructs hovering over it.

"We saw it again with Tillaric Brell and the New Empire. The New Order, coming so close to collapse because of just one man.

She paused, turning to look at Godridge.

"The Empire cannot suffer traitors, Commander. There is no threat more deadly to its continuation than those that are born inside."

She turned back to the viewports, leaving the Commander to consider her words. Or would have, were there time to do so.

"Jam their communications, raise shields." He ordered quickly. "Arm the weapons, launch fighter sqaudrons by readiness."

Fondor was growing larger in the viewports, and in front of them a swarm of capital ships and starfighters was rising to meet them. Someone, it seemed, had told High Admiral Tredok they were hostile. That could work to their advantadge.

"Belay those orders." Bhindi said, raising a hand slightly. "Put all systems on stand-by. Launch two sqaudrons of Defenders from each ship - we let them fire the first shot."

She smiled thinly at Godridge.

"The Empire cannot suffer traitors."







The Past



“We go in here and here.” Bhindi said, pointing out the locations on the holomap. “Admiral Tredok’s ships are supposed to be patrolling the Gandael-Fondor Hyperlace, here.” She indicated the large red slash that ran from Coruscant to the High Admiral’s homeworld.

Created, as it were, by the Imperial High Command before the Yuuzhan Vong invasion, the route was intended to carry ships more efficiently between Imperial Centre and Fondor. It was the main mode of transportation for cargo to and from the planet, intersecting several other major trade lanes on its way to Coruscant.

“Supposed to, Admiral?” Godridge said, looking at the image before him.

“Yes. He sent five ships to Reecee, all of which were lost. He’ll have pulled his remaining ships in to defend Fondor. I don’t know what he expects to happen, but he’ll be concerned nonetheless. We’re going to have to deal with whatever else Tredok has before we can take Fondor itself.”

Godridge nodded.

“If he brings his ships out to meet us, we can cut him off here.” The Admiral indicated another spot on the map.

“And if he doesn’t, Admiral?”

“Then our main force goes forward to engage him, and our secondary fleet arrives here,” she pointed out a final spot, “and drives into his flanks. Whichever way he chooses to confront us, we outflank him and eliminate him.”







The Present



The arrival of an Imperial fleet in his system would not normally have warranted waking High Admiral Luther Tredok from his sleep cycle. And so, for the first several minutes, the defenders of the world simply sent the usual hails and requests for information to the approaching ships.

They did not fail to notice that they were painted a deep black, save for the silver Imperial crest adorning their sides and the word “Ubiqtorate” stamped atop it. But the Ubiqtorate and its Black Fleet were members of the Empire, not opposers to it.

It was only when they detected shields and weapons coming online and communications being jammed so heavily that personal comlinks failed, that the defenders acted. And by that time, it was to late.

Bhindi Drayson’s main group entered the system and began to fire instantly on the ill-prepared Allegiance Star Destroyer that was Tredok’s flagship. That vessel had not even raised its shields yet, and took the brunt of the Nirvana’s turbolaser fire. The other ships of the fleet found themselves thrown on the defensive, already being bombarded by an enemy that seemed very ready and eager to destroy them.

High Admiral Tredok was roused several minutes after the shooting started, an aide finally being notified by an officer who had flown directly to the mansion to inform him, and was rushed back to the command centre.

By this time, the Allegiance was all but destroyed, her hull breached and shields collapsed across the vessel. Tredok’s other ships were fairing no better, the superior enemy force not giving any quarter to the traitor’s fleet.

“Get me a com channel to their flagship!”

Tredok demanded, staring at the visual feed. On the screen, one of his Carrack cruisers had just exploded, the shattered hulk coming down not to smash against the weakened energy shield protecting the planet (it, like the fleet, had not been prepared and nearly a third of the generators on this side of the world were gone).

The scene in space was one of utter disaster, and even as he watched it Tredok knew it was too late. He had watched the video of his father’s murder many times, and sworn revenge on the Admiral who had caused it, however indirectly.

But, it seemed, he has misjudged her.

Swearing, he ordered the officers present to prepare the planet’s surrender (though he wondered how a member of the Empire could surrender to it). Then he walked back to the landspeeder, and set off for his mansion.

There was one last issue to take care of.








“Congratulations on your victory, Admiral.” Godridge said, watching as the last of the Fondor defence fleet faltered, and, finally, fell silent. The shield had been breached some time ago, and Bhindi had lifted the short-range jamming enough to allow a message to get through.

The Fondor defenders instantly accepted her offer of surrender, and gave their full permission for troops to begin landing. Transports were already leaving the bays of her fleet, landing the Ubiqtorate’s own compliment of soldiers on the surface to supplement those who would now fall under her command.

“I wonder what became of High Admiral Tredok, though.” She mused, watching the transports make their way into the atmosphere.

“I’m quite sure we’ll find out sooner or later.”

Bhindi smiled thinly.

“I’m not so sure we will, Commander.”







Later



The 182nd Ubiqtorate Stromtrooper Regiment stormed the High Admiral's Masnion later that day. The compound (for it was closer to a compound that it was any sort of home) was the only location left on the planet with any sort of resistance to the Ubiqtorate rule.

When the gates were brought down at last, and the Stormtroopers allowed to enter, they were met with a scene of much devestation. Upon entering the house, it became apparent that someone, presumably High Admiral Tredok, had attempted to set it on fire.

It was also apparent that the High Admiral had killed himself, and everyone who had occupied the house with him. Several bodies, all badly charred, were removed for testing and eventually burrying, along with several melted mainframes and other electronic items that had been destroyed or damaged by the fire.

Most of it was non-salvagable, but Imperail technicians did find a single harddrive, surrounded by metled wires and plastic, that was armoured and had thus survived.

It was encoded, and turned over to the research department for decoding. It had come from Tredok's personal machine, and Admiral Drayson ordered the information turned over to her as soon as it was decoded.

What was contained therein, she said, could prove vital to the Empire.

With the death of High Admiral Luther Tredok, and the information painting him a traitor to the Empire, his position on the Imperial High Command was eliminated.

Fondor was turned over to the control of the Ubiqtorate officially, as were its remaining fleets and troops. Several high-ranking aides to Admiral Tredok were executed.

Command Deusvult Godridge, Military Aide to Moff Bhindi Drayson and Captain Tier Joda (of the Star Destroyer Nirvana) were present, flanking the Moff herself. She was dressed in a custom tailored suit that was vaugly reminscent of both the uniform of a Moff, which she might be expected to where today, and her own fleet uniform. The suit itself was a shade of Crimson, dark and cold.

Below the raised dias were a hundred thousand or more people, all loyal citizens of the Galactic Empire. They had lived under the rule of both of the Tredoks, and now their world would become one with the Ubiqtorate.

Bhindi motioned for quiet, and recieved it from her people.

"Citizens of Fondor!" She began. "Today we arrive at a parting of the ways. This world has to long suffered under the leadership of men, obsessed with war and conquer! To long have you been subjugated, as the people of the Coalition are, and treated as waste by your leaders!

This ends now!"

The speech was being broadcast live, across the entire planet. Every citizen of Fondor would see it, regardless of the time.

She spoke of how High Admiral Tredok had forced the people into submission to build his machines of war, and how he had used them to betray the Empire and try to bring about her destruction.

And she spoke of how Fondor would recieve a new light, and become a true member of the glorious New Order. By the end of it, she had won them over. The battle and the damage inflicted were apoligized for profusely, and repairs promised.

She would be back on Yaga Minor in time to learn of the Galactic Coalition's Decleration of War.