War.

Empire.

Two words that would forever be synonymous, for one could not exist without the other. Wars were fought over borders, lands, and wealth. Empires were forged from the hearth of battle: the victorious ruled, and the defeated served.

Thus an Empire was always at war. If not active therein, it was in a perpetual state of preparation.

To not have been so, or acted as such, would have spelled defeat at the hands of the first able minded leader from afar.

* * *

If it was wars that created Empires and lead them to destruction, if was expansion that kept them alive. Not always out, but up. The way was not always paved with blood: words could be molded to be more effective weapons.

This pilosophy was near repugnant to the Grand Inquisitor, the Grand Admiral Ierin Viscount del Forza, recently elevated to the highest rank of his naval career. A tip of the perverbial hat for his military duties as well as civil. He was one of few that could balance both.

The philosophy of the Grand Inquisitor was Rule through Fear, Expansion through Force. Despite his Corellian and aristocratic upbrining, the Viscount's ideals were very, very Imperial.

It was not above his talents to fulfill the mission that had been assigned him, merely beneath what he felt was his dignity.

Dignity be damned, however, for orders were orders.

One does not defy the Emperor, no matter his influence.

His mind cleared of personal obstructions, the Viscount set to work with his usual vigor at planning the next operation in his career.

The acquisition of Yag'dhul.

According to the small chrono on the obsidian desk of the Grand Admiral, the time had passed well into the night. That was Fleet time, however. On Despayre, the sun was peaking the clouds above the capital.

For two days, the Grand Inquisitor had remaining vigiantly at his desk with barely a pause or interruption. Several pots of caf had been ordered and emptied, and a tray of Corellian breakfast specials devoured in that time.

To show for it, the Grand Admiral had hammered out every detail of his orders, from the strategic to tactical to operational levels. Plans had been laid for a dozen contingencies and obstacles.

Unfortunately for the adminsitrative talents of the Viscount, all but two of his scenarioes were un military. Diplomacy had become a watchword for this campaign. As such, he had chosen a well selected escort from his fleet battle group.

The chrono kept going and the Viscount's tunic hung wide open as he plotted another string of ideas well into the night.


* * *


The Viscount that stood before the bridge crew of the Eclipse-class Star Destroyer Death's Hand was very different from the one that had been sitting for endless hours behind his desk. His red tunic and black jackpuhrs were neatly pressed. His mane of white hair was trimmed and combed, and his eyes sparkled as if against a morning field.

He was done with planning, and action could commence.

The jackboots of the Grand Admiral echoed throughout the bridge as he mounted his command chair. " Captain."

" My Lord?" asked the flagship's commander, the youngest heavy warship commander in teh field.

" In the briefing this morning, I outlined our destination. Make ready to depart."

The Captain nodded.

" Assume formation. Recall the TIE patrols and prepare for hyperjump on my mark."

Group 2 of the Third Fleet fell in around the titannic warship, while the reminader of the Third moved off for guardian positions in the Capital System. The Sixth Fleet had already vanished intot eh abyss of hyperspace....whence it left it, the fleet would be the Grand Inquisitor's reserve in the case of any...unwanted...interference.

" My Lord, all ships are in position."

" Excellent. Take us out."


The Jutraalian flagshjip and its potent escort disappeared.

Bound for glory.

Bound for Yag'dhul.

Yag'dhul was the fifth planet in a dwarf system. The star it orbited was a white jewel of the galaxy, throwing of solar flares about the system that attracted astronomers from every credible university for eons.

The planet itself was one of awe as well, for it was closely orbited by three moons, each massive in and of itself. Their lunar paths took them so close to the planet that only certain regions of the world had any breatheable atmosphere. Where there was, the natives had erected massive, self contained cities, each with walls and shielding that was respectable even when compared to the hull and a Srat Destroyer. Their natural enemy of the Tides had been dfeated.

The Grand Inquisitor had learned all of this from his flag captain en route to the planet. The young Captain Yamarr was indeed bright, a man of the galaxy.

The dinner the previous night hosted by the Grand Admiral for all the flagship's commanders, had yielded some interesting conversation once their mission had been unvielded in its entireity.

* * *

" Re-entry completed, Admiral."

" Excellent. Make ready my shuttle."

" As ordered, my Lord."

* * *

Group 2 of the Third Fleet reverted to real space just outside the planetary gravity well, which was just outside the farthest lunar track. The view from the bow ports of every Jutraalian vessel was awesome: Yag'dhul sat, with one moon just over the northern horizon and the other two at diagonal equidistant positions ahead of the world. The seemingly connected amaglamationof stellar bodies stood interposed between the fleet and the sun, whose rays were spurting forth at every other angle. It appeared as if a halo existed around the planet.

It could either be interpreted as a portent of victory for the Jutraalians, or a boding of defeat.

Ever optomistic, the Grand Admiral took it for the former.

After running on sublight for only a few minutes, already close in to their objective planet, small shapes began to emerge from the massive underbelly of the black Death's hand. Four shuttles of Sentinel-class and a full wing of TIE Defenders moved through the escorting formation before forming themselves into an impressive three dimensional Delta-pattern.

The four shuttles were in a flat diamond formation, and not a vessel broke ranks as they descended to the planet surface.

The city of Telladar was readying to receive visitors.

Just outside of the walled city of Telladar, the Jutraalian shuttles touched down in a clearing. The small field was almost walled in itself by high trees whose canopy was dozens of feet above the ground. A reed-like grass sprouted up throughout, creating the illusion of a treed savannah.

The heavy exhaust thrust of the shuttles made the grass sway and pulse as if an ocean. When all of the bone white craft were down, the seventy-two TIE Defenders above began making passes over the city in flight formations. Not a shot was fired: had the scenery have been different, one would have guessed a parade had commenced.

“ My Lord, wait here,” spoke the voice of the escort detail’s commander, a middle aged lieutenant of the Fleet. His weapon was primed and ready. The twenty other Fleet troopers aboard were all poised to strike as the ventral launch door opened, compressed gas hissing out towards the ground. The first wave of troopers flowed out and established a perimeter, many on one knee with their guns trained into the vastness of the wood. Above the trees could be seen the skyscrapers and buildings of the domed city.

From the other two modified shuttles came forty more troopers and four Chariot hovercraft. One was the light command vehicle, two more were armored scout cars, and the other a troop transport. Each had been painted in the faded green-grey of most urban combat detachment vehicles.

Outside the flag shuttle, as it were, thirty of the troopers had established a perimeter and were manning their personal weapons and five light blaster repeaters. The Escort Commander, Lieutenant Eiserbrook, returned to the shuttle, his DL-44 Blaster rifle now dangling from his large side holster. “ All is ready, my Lord.”

“ Excellent.” The Grand Inquisitor exited the shuttle, thankful that Fleet uniforms had been designed for almost all environments. The logistical philosophy had been simple: one can always put on, taking off is limited.

The thin yet elegant uniform of the Grand Admiral was comfortable in the near tropical breezes that came off the kilometer near ocean. His jackboots, however, left something to be desired, for they retained all heat. It had its combat benefits in every environment. But it was the bane of every sock.

The Viscount followed the Lieutenant to the command Chariot and entered. Inside, the atoner system was fully operational, the typical cool temperature of Jutraalian warships extent throughout. His small chair was the most comfortable in the small vehicle, the rest being mere metal. Many crews had the habit of taking the bunk pillows on combat assignments.

Twenty minutes after landing, the four vehicle convoy headed off down a nearby recently paved road into Telladar.

* * *

“ Sir!!!” cried a Givin security officer at the northern gates to Telladar into his comm receiver.

“ Yes?” asked the primary dispatcher at the capital command center.

“ Jutraalians are coming towards the city!!!”

“ How can you be sure?”

“ They have their banners flying from their vehicles!!! What should we do???”

“ Have they fired?”

“ Not yet.”

“ Then let them in.”

After a brusque acknowledgement, the guard signed off. The dispatcher ran with all haste to the Governor’s office.

* * *

The streets inside the Givin capital were wide and paved with a sparkling ferrocrete. Trees lined their boulevards and shops lined every street. Above them sat residences. There was a surprising amount of breadth to the city that made the Viscount marvel at the construction ability of the natives to having been able to encompass a metropolis inside a durasteel dome.

“ Where exactly are we going, sir?” asked the driver of the LAV, second in the convoy following the lead armored scout car.

“ The Governor’s Quarters. I have an offer he can’t refuse.”

* * *

The Givin had long been a self-sufficient people, with their talents at engineering and fabrication respected and sought after about the Known Galaxy. It was rumored there were more Givin off the planet than on, which was entirely possible. The Fondor shipyards, the great Kuati subsidiary, were said to have employed a million of them. The Viscount had been once to Fondor shortly after the Battle of Coruscant, and while he had not seen a million, there had been many.

The Givin, however, while at home inside the realms of architecture and engineering, they were foreign inside the sphere of battle. Those employed as mercenaries and soldiers displayed a tenacity that would make their ancestors proud, but that was gleaned only through endurance in the harsh galaxy outside their home system.

This went hand in hand with the paltry size and ill training of their small defense force which could better be described as a well armed police battalion.

“ We have arrived, my Lord.”

The Viscount nodded and stepped out from the Chariot LAV. Ten Fleet troopers had been disgorged from the hovertruck behind the LAV. The Lieutenant stood ahead of them and began barking commands.

“ Achtung!”

The ten soldiers snapped to a rigid attention, with their chest puffed out and arms only slightly bent.

“ Fall-in!!!”

In five pairs, the black uniformed Fleet troopers, each specially trained in escort duties and room to room fighting fell in behind the Grand Inquisitor. The Lieutenant took up a position at the Viscount’s right flank.

Here we go.

******************

The Planetary Operations Building as the towering Givin capital was named, was undoubtedly the largest construct in Telladar. It’s vertical immensity would have allowed it to fit in on Coruscant or in the expansive city of Xieene on Averam. Every face of it was covered with a dark blue glass, one of many homages the Givin paid to their constant adversary of the sea. The tower was wide and thick, easily as wide as a Carrack and as long as a Dreadnaught. On every floor was an office of a representative or governmental minister. Hundreds of departments existed to assure as little internal bureaucracy as possible. There was an Over-Department of the Interior, which inside oversaw the Departments of Water Purification, Dispersement, Drought Protection, Supply, and dozens of others.

At the very top of the one hundred and ninety storey structure was the office of the Governor.

Many faces became blank and many papers were dropped as the Jutraalian Grand Inquisitor entered the lobby completely unannounced and trailed by a small phalanx of protectors. The impressive group bore down on the head receptionist whose desk and controls exceeded the size of anything in High Command: she had to run an entire building: the officers there were rarely present.

“ Madam, I should like to speak with the Governor.”

Silence reigned.

“ Madam?” The Viscount had on his most genial and professional attitude. He wore a smile that was eerily inviting.

“ Top.” she squeaked out, only after a colleague comforted her.

The Grand Admiral bowed, and moved off for the sextet of lifts that lead up from the lobby to every floor of the building. The sight from the bottom was breathtaking, as one could look up the lift shaft and see everything. The six lifts were in a circle, and around them the floors extended to the walls. From every level, platforms extended to the lift when it arrived. Without an extension, the view was completely unobstructed to the crystal roof.

Before moving off, the end pair of Fleet troopers halted by the desk and took up flanking positions on either side of it. There they stood, at parade rest. There they would stand until relieved.

The lift itself rocketed skywards, so fast that many first time riders frooze for fear they would sent flying into the atmosphere. Speed was an essential part of ruling: a concept many governments had yet to grasp.

The Givin knew it well, and thus were ready to greet the Jutraalian delegation before the lift stopped.

The doors parted and a gangway had already been extended. The view from the top was even more stunning-and frightening-than from the bottom. The Givin had prevented any suicides from the towering insides by placing a transparisteel barrier just outside the way: one could extend one’s head over the side, but only for a dozen centimeters. The carpeting was maroon, and the steel decking polished. Plants adorned the walls to the elegant office of the Governor. He as well had a secretary, whose desk sat at the nexus of three walkways. The one directly behind her lead to the Governor’s private chamber, the left to a conference room, and the right to a lavish dining facility for official meetings.

“ The Governor will see you, Grand Admiral del Forza.”

“ Thank you.”

The human male stood and lead the Viscount around his desk into the hall leading to the Governor’s private chamber. Only the Lieutenant joined him, while the remainder of the guard had fanned out in ceremonial looking positions about the office entrance.

The walls to the hall were oddly close together, in direct contrast to the openness of the remainder of the city. The floor sloped slightly upwards, leading to the office itself. The room had been designed by the current governor: a human named Gabriel Hyde, one of the few non Givin in power on Yag dhul.

Upon passing through the hall, the office was entered, and the view was breathtaking. Telladar fanned out along the ground, with the sea and a continuing coastline beyond. One of the planet’s grey-purple moons could be seen on the horizon, signaling the beginning of night. The windows themselves were at least ten meters from ceiling to floor with black pillars and walls. The floor was a black marble. To afford such accruements, Hyde had used his personal fortune. With him to Yag dhul he had brought his Corrinth Corporation, an all purpose industry that catered to every thing from liner construction to personal appliances to weapons to banking. Yag’dhul would prove an excellent source of skilled engineers who could better their extensive lines of service and products. The benefits had already paid for the cost of moving the company, and the bolstering of the Givin economy had brought him his office.

Hyde, however, unlike most Givin’s was terminally greedy. However, he went about his monetary passion with a sophisticated zeal and brilliant vigor that astounded many whilst their pockets were cleaned. He was devious and intelligent, a dangerous combination but perfect for political leadership.

The Viscount bowed slightly, before speaking. He would allow Hyde to believe the situation was his, the intimidating surroundings adding to the effect of dwarfing the sizeable officer. “ I know who you are and I assume you know who I am.”

“ Actually, I am not as sure as I would like to be.”

A thin smile creased the Viscount’s mouth. “ I am Grand Admiral Ierin Viscount del Forza, commanding officer of the Jutraalian Third and Sixth Fleets, as well as Grand Inquisitor. “

The Governor returned the smile. “ I wish I could take up some time with an equally elaborate title, but I am simply Gabriel Hyde. Governor. And CEO. But I doubt that you have traveled this far while a War is on to discuss your stock options.”

“ Accurate, I must say, while I might add my family has a nine percent share of your company.”

“ We are thankful to all our shareholders.”

“ Governor Hyde, I have come here to offer you a proposal straight from the mouth of my Emperor….”

* * *

Aboard the Flagship, ESD Death’s Hand.

Fourth watch had come to stations shortly after the departure of the Grand Admiral, who had been absent for an hour. Captain Yamarr, as usual, had remained at his post for a watch after he had slated himself. He spent, on routine, two watches on the bridge, one watch sleeping, and another mingling with the crew, a time he always considered his off duty hours.

Clocks could not be set by him, much to regret of the first officers’ pool, for he never stayed on the same two shifts. This cycle, he had decided to spend first watch sleeping.

As often when the Grand Admiral was not on the bridge, he found a comfortable position in the command chair and dozed off. He had never been caught while doing this, but no one had ever said ill of him, for he was active when he did not need to be.

Unlike most Fleet commanders, he was not un-amicable when he was roused from sleep.

Thus, Lieutenant Wargrave did not hesitate to bring an unusual situation report before him.

“ Captain.”

Nothing.

“ Ahem!.”

Still nothing.

“ Captain!”

The twenty year old officer near punched the captain with the first syllable, the second soft and subdued. Yamarr woke up.

“ Yes?”

“ I have found something odd.” The Lieutenant handed the Captain a data pad. “ We have had no reports from the ground or the fighters, but a Givin force is making, what I would call, a reconnaissance in strength towards the landing site.

“ How far are they from it?”

“ About twenty kilometers to the south.”

“ Composition?”

“ We read five repulsor tanks, a dozen light scout cars, and a few tracked personnel carriers.”

“ That’s rather more than we have there. Destroy them. One salvo, port guns, should be sufficient. Do it at your discretion.”

The Captain returned to sleep before Wargrave completed his salute.

* * *

“ We wait a hour. That’s when their TIEs will run out of fuel, and we move in. Questions?”

The Givin group commander looked at the faces of his younger subordinates, who had no puzzlement on their faces. They had no questions, and he dismissed them.

The vehicles sat, powered down, along a highway to Telladar from Jing Prime, fifty kilometers to the south east. The Commander stood through the cupola of his repulsor tank with high powered macro binoculars in his hands. Every several minutes, he obsessively checked the skies over the landing site for TIEs. They were there, twelve of them. The rest were flying over the city in formation, trying to woo and awe the populace.

Twenty minutes later, the TIEs over the city returned to the landing site and formed up with the others. Together, they climbed into the atmosphere, obviously low in fuel from their slow cruising speed.

They’re early. “ All right,” the Commander called over the group comm. “ Their aerial support had left. Let’s go!!!”

The engines roared to life, the sound vibrating through the trees. The column was off, tanks first, followed by the scout cars, and five old but useful tracked carriers. They traveled at their slowest vehicles top speed, that being that of the older carriers. They made their way foreward. They came to a small ravine that was ten kilometers from the landing site, the group having gone off road to avoid any pickets the Jutraalians may have set.

It was the closest they ever came.

From the sky came five hundred and fifty heavy turbo laser bolts, hitting the earth in a two kilometer radius of the group. Those craft not incinerated by direct or even glancing hits were flipped from the titanic vibrations through the landscape as the neon energy slammed into the ground with the force a crashing cruiser. The barrage lasted five minutes. All living creatures in the blast radius were dead within two.

* * *



“…The Jutraalian government has seen fit to tip its hat to the galactic economy.

“ As such, we realize that the control of finances would be crucial not only in the defeat of current enemies, but the removal of potential threats and the expansion of our own military and civil budgets. To drastically bolster our own source of non-internal capital, we require an expansion beyond the current borders of the Jutraalian Empire.

“ Yag dhul itself has the greatest economic standing in a twenty system radius. This says much about your growth over the last decade. While your population remains static, your domestic product continues to rise steadily. The ingenious use of indigenous resources contributes a great deal, but much can also be said of the industriousness of the leadership.”

The Viscount was not made the Grand Inquisitor for his stunning good looks: he had the ability to speak kindly to friends and intimidating to enemies. He was extremely versatile, and could switch perceptions at a moment’s notice.

His flattery was well-planned.

“ Tell me, Grand Inquisitor del Forza, what are you alluding to. I have heard much of what you say and am thankful that the Jutraalians have taken notice of our world, but I must say that I fail to grasp your hidden innuendo. “

Few men would dare to speak as suck to anyone over the rank of Commander. Hyde, however, knew how to say what wanted to say without damaging pride: he payed a tribute to the Inquisitor’s intellect.

“ We wish to bring Yag’dhul under the protective banner of the Jutraalian Empire.”

“ Come again?”

“ You are in a precarious position, Governor Hyde. Your system sits in a strategic position in space, and you have no means to defend yourself. To your name, the Givin defense fleet consist of three out-dated Imperial Customs Corvettes. The Ground defense forces stationed here are enough to provide cannon fodder to a determined Imperial or Republic assault. You have a dozen heavy surface vehicles capable of holding any sort of competitive edge against light assault craft. Many of your ground troops have trained no more than four weeks.

“ This is understandable, however. You have no need for war machines as you are not in war.

“ This may not be the case for long. Every force worth the status of legitimacy is taking control of every planet they can. Whole systems of lifeless rocks are being mined extensively for their resources. And those are systems with no strategic value.

“ Imagine the fate of this beautiful world if the new Republic moved in to power here. They preach benevolence and self government, but in actuality, there are as starved for resources for their expansion programmes as the Hapans. Yag dhul has mineral wealth, a prosperous industrial economy, and exoticism that brings in great revenue amounts from tourists. All of this would be stripped away, along with your pride, as heavy mining equipment arrived and began tossing aside the forest to reach mineral deposits. “

“ And the Jutraalian Empire would not bring in heavy mining equipment?”

An interruption came to the Governor in the form a Givin aide toe, who whispered a brief message in the human’s ear. Very Thrawn-like, the Governor arched an eye brow, then blinked rapidly behind small spectacles before the aide’s words had come to an end. The Viscount could make out only the Thank you at the end of the one sided conversation. Whatever they were speaking of had piqued the Governor’s interest.

As the Givin aide slinked away, the Grand Admiral took a new measure of the Governor. His demeanor had changed from one of cold and calculated arrogance to something somewhat lighter. The heavy hand that had previously rested on an arm of Hyde’s chair was now stroking his trimmed goatee.

“ I am sorry, Grand Admiral. Would you do me the courtesy of expanding on your offer?”

“Certainly.” Something has definitely changed. “ We would of course bring in heavy mining equipment, but we would leave it here for your useage. In order for the Department of Logistics and Procurement to drill anything, they would have to survey and take samples and test and this and that and so many things that are a complete waste of time. You have the knowledge of living on this world for eons. You know where the deposits are and you know how to get at them without removing vast swathes of forest.

“ To that point, you would undoubtedly make better use of the machines than our own people. They are proficient, but chances are, they were designed by a Givin in a laboratory.”

“ And defensive arrangements?”

“ Yag dhul would fall under a sector command and would have a dozen or so ships protecting it. On the planet, on sites where you deem there is no danger to the indigenous life, we will place a few garrison bases and planetary defensive installations. Eventually planetary shields will arrive.

“ Yag dhul would also receive the benefit of falling under the protection of the Imperial Customs Fleet, a very well equipped force which can ensure that the amount of smuggled goods and pirates decreases drastically.

“ The orbital station you have above would receive a refit, and be joined be several others. You do, after all have a very important position along some Trade Route. You do not enjoy the benefits thereof because you lack the facilities to aid and repair and dock transports and freighters. “

“ And Jutraalain Law?”

“ This is where the gritty politics come in. Yag dhul would become a Jutraalain world, but would receive the title of Protectorate. Only Decrees and Mandates would be enforced here. With the exception of those, your governmental rights and duties would not diminish.”

“ Taxes???”

“ We will not be taking any taxes from the Givin treasury. You may donate money, but we will not take any.”

That last remark caused both men to smile.

Had the Lieutenant not have been standing at parade rest by the door, he might have expressed one as well.

“ I do not see as we have a choice. The benefits do, however, outweigh the detractions, so I would have to say yes.”

It was the Viscount’s turn to arch an eyebrow in bemusement.

“ Yes?”

“ Yes.”

“ There is no vote?”

“ Grand Admiral del Forza, I am the Governor to make hard decisions, not wallow in filibustering and debate.”

With that, the Grand Admiral stood from the seat he had taken, and bowed. He and the lieutenant departed the office as one, a heavy greel door shutting behind them. It’s massive size and heavy construction did not allow the Viscount to hear the Governor’s last remark.

“…and to save lives.”

* * * * * *

The Viscount left the capital building, then the city itself, with TIEs above the whole way. He then boarded a shuttle and left the world of Yag dhul that he had just peaceably admitted into the Jutraalain Empire.

Too easily.



The Viscount’s arrival was not met by the fanfare of a returning hero or a fallen victor. There was celebration scheduled, and had there been, the Viscount’s mind would have been racing too much to enjoy it: nay, to even notice its happening.

The Viscount made the long journey from landing bay to bridge by lift, but stopped short of stepping onto the bridge itself. He turned off before the aft control corridor and into the dim lit recesses of his cavernous office. There, he was joined shortly thereafter by Captain Yamarr.

“ How did it go, my Lord?”

“ Yag dhul is a world of the Jutraalain Empire.”

“ The fell back, eh?”

“ Say again.”

“ After they moved on the landing site and were eliminated. They fell back from their anti-Jutraal stance?”

“ What assault on the landing site?”

The captain lost none of his joviality as he made his report. “ A sizeable force of surface armor advanced on the landing site. The seemed to have been timing their advance with the amount of fuel the TIEs had left. Lieutenant Wargrave pulled the TIEs out early as a test, and they took the bait. They moved in towards the landing site at best speed, and we slagged the area they were in.”

“ Oh.” The puzzlement the Viscount had been suffering since the conclusion of the Governor’s meeting had been assuaged by a three second report. That explained the sudden mood change of Governor Hyde and the interruption of the aide: he had planned the attack to test them. When he saw the strength and ferocity of the response and the timing of it, he broke all bonds of pomposity and independence.

He had decided on discretion. He had no force to play the valour card with.

“ Well then, commence the landings. 132nd and 357th Divisions can begin transporting to the surface as well as the XXXIII Corps of Engineers. Begin Plan A.”

“ Aye sir.”

The Captain rose and saluted.

Yag dhul was Jutraalian. And the action was now full swing.