Xeneth Tellien rolled his eyes and nodded to transmit a reply. “No, sir, we will not let you through, even if you give us Adegan crystals. We work for the Ossan government; we control all Adegan crystals. Furthermore, it is illegal to offer us Adegan crystals in exchange for passage. That is called bribery. Please turn around, go back to Ossus, and run those crystals through customs.”

The ship acknowledged stupidly and turned away, slipping back into hyperspace and exiting the Adegala system.

Xeneth Tellien had once been a highly respected member of the New Republic, the naval protégé of Gash Jiren, one of the most talented tacticians in the galaxy. He’d risen from Captain to General to Admiral to Executor-General, fighting his way through some of the most important campaigns in galactic history; the battles against Thrawn at Ossus and Ruusan, Gash Jiren’s war against the Corporate Sector Authority, and many others.

All that had changed at Bastion.

Everything that.

After a year of being defeated over and over by a rising Empire, that cataclysmic battle had been the end of the Republic, the end of the New Empire, and the end of almost everything in between. It resembled the apocalypse in every way imaginable. And now, Xeneth Tellien was running customs for the Ossan Parliament.

“Sir?” One of the crew members of the Tachyon – so named for the Executor-Class Star Destroyer which found its end over Ruusan, though which was now the moniker for a far more modest Marauder Corvette – spoke up. “They did not exit on the vector for Ossus.”

Tellien sighed. “Follow them, then.”



They emerged into an unknown system without incident, scanning over it briefly. “No sign of them, sir. They must have left, already.”

“I don’t think so,” Tellien said. He pointed to the tactical display to his left. “There’s a great deal of hyperspace radiation activity, in this system, right about here, near this planet. The idiots jumped randomly and ran right into that planet. Serves them right.”

Just then, the communication officer’s system began to wail. “We’re getting a transmission, sir… it’s coming in on encrypted channels.” A moment of silence. “I can’t decode it, sir.”

“Let me have a look,” Tellien replied, figuring it to be some sort of hyperspace echo from the destroyed ship. He walked over to the station, looked down at it, and blinked a few times. The code coming across the screen was random and unintelligible.

But recognizable.

“That’s strange,” Tellien said. “That looks like the encoding of one of the old New Republic channels… one of the ones we used right before the fall of the Republic. Right before Bastion, in fact. The decrypt should be somewhere in our databanks; look under NR3X1NEW.”

“Yes, sir.”

In a moment, a hologram spilled forth, and began to speak.

Tellien blinked a few times, doubting his eyes. There, before him, was Admiral Hyrkuk, of the New Republic. This would not be odd, normally; many New Republic admirals had taken up jobs with other government or private enterprise, or at least those who’d survived Bastion had. But Hyrkuk had not survived the Battle of Bastion; he’d not even made it there.

Somewhere between Corellia and Bastion, Hyrkuk’s fleet was knocked out of hyperspace by a New Imperial interdiction force, which had somehow determined their trajectory. According to all reports, they’d been utterly destroyed; their last transmission had notified Corellia of this, and of their desperate, last-ditch attempt to flee.

Clearly, they had not been destroyed.

“Admiral?”

They followed her, not because they were ordered to, or because they were called upon, but because they respected her... because she was a true leader. It had been three years since the devastation of the Imperial Interdictor field that had landed them on this god-forsaken planet, and within that time frame she had done the impossible.

She had established a base of operations. She'd used the salvageable parts of the Corvette that had crashed on the planet's surface to build a respectable shelter, and communications station for them. She'd fed them when they were hungry, clothed them when they were cold... and had delivered them from evil in there last hours.

To some, she was a saint. But to others, she was a tyrant. A mindless, feeble-minded excuse for a leader. Many men considered her a neusance. A neusance that should be delt with quickly, and decisivly... and Admiral Hyrkuk was one of those men.

She glided down the vast dirt corridor, her black boots sinking into the moist soil of floor as if it were quicksand, only to be removed by the next step. Her eyes blazed with fury, shadowed only by the determination within her soul... a determination to regroup with the New Republic.

As she shoved the blaster-stained metallic door of the command center open, her right hand swiped her blaster from it's hilt. The admiral's introduction ceased as she entered.

"Why wasn't I informed, Admiral?" her harsh tone lingered throughout the room for a moment before he answered. "No one could find you." Hyrkuk paused for a moment and ran his thumb over his lower lip as he stood with his back perfectly straight, his holographic image being projected to the ship in orbit.

"Gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce Lieutenant Lianna Fairchild, of the New Republic's 281st Naval Division." She scowled as she stepped forward, taking the admiral's position with a distinctive authority, her honor guard flanking her on each side.

"Tell me," she spoke with a smile as a jitter of excitement pulsated throughout her body, lingering potently in her voice. "How fares the New Republic...." She had so many questions.... three years was a long time to go without contact with the outside world. "Has a cure been found for the Wrath virus? And the Battle of Bastion, did we win?!"

Genesis



“Colonel Trajan Vespian reporting, Captain.” Snapped the rather young light brown haired soldier as he crossed the threshold of the walkway connecting to the Victory Star Destroyer laying peacefully moored along side the orbiting refitting station.

“At ease, Colonel,” the bulky Captain of the Iron Mantis mumbled not bothering to get up as he and the Chief Engineer were kneeling down taking apart a faulty power converter.

Trajan spaced his legs apart and kept his hands clasped behind his back as he patiently waited for the Captain to finish (as was his privilege). He was in the top ten of his graduating class of advanced engineering and was surprised to be requested by the master of the Iron Mantis. His father had been a highly respected engineer for a major manufacturing company and it was expected of him to follow in the same footsteps. Yet Trajan’s heart pulled him into other directions his father never contemplated. One of those led to the Fleet and into military service and to where he was standing right now.

The military command of the Republic had put his skill to use by enrolling him in their Advanced Engineering (both applied and mechanical) Department, much to the dismay of Trajan.

He wanted, more than anything, to be commanding a ship.

To be making a difference!

But his ambitions fell on deaf ears as he was put where it was felt he could do the most good…until that is, Captain Laskin took an interest in him, coming from an engineering background as well.


The Captain stepped up, wiping his hands on a nearby towel. “Tell me, Colonel, what do you think?”

“Sir?”

“The size of this power convertor is a tad smaller than the rest being manufactured by a different company. It is said, though, that it could channel the same amount of power to the subsystems. What do you think?”


Trajan looked at the device skeptically. “Well, Captain, it needs to be tested under normal ship operating conditions.. even perhaps abnormal ones, so perhaps it should be switched to a system that is not too critical until it's reliabitly is established.”

“Exactly what I was thinking, Colonel.” The burly Captain extended his hand.

“Welcome aboard the Mantis, Colonel.”

“Not, Iron, Captain?” Trajan’s eyebrows rose a fraction.

“After you’ve seen her in action, it’ll be a given.” Captain Laskin chuckled, “Now let’s get you settled in.”


And that when all hell broke out.

An explosion of rippled through the station buckling the walkway from the station to the ship.

“What the..?”

Captain Laskin was all business. “You!” pointing to a frightened ensign, “Help Mr. Brannel with this convertor. Now! And You!” pointing to Trajan. “Get to the bridge and get our systems up.” And as an after thought, he added, “Commander. I’ve got to get this ship unmoored!”

Trajan raced for the bridge. What a way to start off as executive officer..

The massive blast doors were closing to seal of the cracking walkway and Captain Laskin hoped they would seal before the walkway lost compression.

Stealing a moment to glance out of a port he saw a huge gaping hole in the station.

If we are under attack, they'll carve us up like slabs of meat..

As it turned out, it was not the only explosion…



Taken from Imminent Yet Erratic..

a sharp blast incorporating numerous shrieks sounded haphazardly – instantaneously cutting the assembly’s original absorption. Cries of perplexity and sorrow trickled amongst every applicable object in the corridors rapidly thereafter. Conditions were no more jovial in the dining chamber, he recalled, especially in the stricken eyes of mystified Calamarians. An unknown terror already proved to be capable of spurring such extensive pain. The knowledge of a conspirator locked within the inner recesses frightened most following the initial craze, additionally.

In crossed a petrified Ensign with a hand stiffly pressed against a severed chest. He met startled eyes peering from beneath clasped hands, although wasted no time to realize the news radiated so widespread. Falling exasperated to a crimson puddle not far from the warped entrance, the few to dash to his aid firstly (including himself) received the twisted harmony of his final words.

"N-New…O-Order."





The cry for war resounded along the fleet as officers and crewman alike waited news of the fallen Jedi leader Xylon Hexyra.

On the bridge of the Iron Mantis, Colonel… no.. Commander Vespian stood behind the tracking officer as active scans were overlaying the entry vectors on the holographic map in front.

“Try this area..” he mumbled, making some calculations on his calculator – the one device he was never without.

“Our orders just came in Commander.” Captain Laskin started the moment he walked onto the deck.

Trajan stepped up and away from the crewman, “Sir?”

“There..” the Captain pointed out toward a section of space swarming with Imperial Star Destroyers and Lancer frigates.

And suddenly they were dwarfed.

The sight caused Trajan’s breath to catch..

The Jenova.

“A tactical operation has been planned and we have been assigned to Admiral Gash Jiren’s group.”

“The target?”

“Muunilist.”

The heart of the Empire!

Trajan’s heart skipped a beat and he began entering figures into his calculator..








Lamentation



“The calculations do not lie, Marlena.” Commander Vespian commented, showing the woman seated opposite him his calculator. “The figures here represent both your admiration and caring for me..” He bit back a grin as one of the woman’s eyebrows raised in ironic expression, “.. resulting in an almost incalculable expression of affection.”

“Somehow, I think you’ve managed to bring it into calculable ranges.” She answered dryly.

He ignored her remark, his words set into his mind, “Adding to that my infinite love for you, the effects of our remaining separate would break down any formula derived. Marlena, our fractions must merge before the equation can exponentially and logically grow.”

He looked into her eyes. “I want it to grow.”

Amusement shined in her features. “Either I was proposed too or that was a nice thesis on the human equation. How long did it take you to come up with that?”

His grin broke. “The better part of the morning.”

“Our equation huh?”

His grin widened further, “Well our fractions have already been merging…so.”

The woman laughed, leaned forward and kissed him. “Who am I to say ‘no’ to such unassailable logic?”

“When does your ship leave?” he asked relieved, looking for small talk to pass the time as his mind raced with the details of the future nuptial.

“0800 hours. The Katana is scheduled to rendezvous with the Jenova’s task force. Yours?”


“0900.”

“Oh? Why the special treatment?” Marlena teased.

“Faster Vicstar.” Trajan commented matter-of-factly. So much so that Marlena hit him on the shoulder. “Orders.” He amended at the persuasion. “We are holding back to retrieve the latest intel that NR operatives can bring. I mean, this is the Empire we are talking about.”

“We outnumber them and we shall have both Admirals Hexyra and Jiren with us.”

“Don’t get over-confident.” Trajan warned. “The Empire has it’s own share of brilliance. Grand Admiral Hyfe and General Ming are not people to sneer at.”

“What happened to Grand Admiral .. what was his name? Zell?”

Trajan shrugged. “No one knows but that is not uncommon. Perhaps the Empire executed him for something or other. But what concerns me is this.” He pulled out a recently unclassified photo of a Reign Class Star Destroyer.

“The technology this machine boasts of is incredible.”

“The Vlyx is a better design.”

“I agree.. but this thing looks like it can take a beating.” Trajan pointed to the photo.

Marlena smiled. “Don’t worry. It will..” and Trajan laughed.

“That’s my shuttle.” She said as an announcement came from an intercom. The woman leaned over to kiss Trajan as she stood up. “See you after the operation.”

“Post victory party?”

She laughed, “Every sailor’s dream..”





*

Taken from Empire’s Shadows: Republic’s Light


Outlined in a remote black and sketched onto the eyes of an eager crew, a spherical shape forming the azure of blue drifted forward. One in the same, an object of beauty and grace it would have been, if not for dingy Imperial war centers having lined its independent glory with atrocious instinct. It influenced one to wonder why vigilant hearts squandered existence on an asset to which no one was worthy. Yet whichever way the wind blew, the fight was more real than the quandaries of it.

The aftermath of acknowledging the heavenly sight’s presence bore far less serenity as seen in the days before. The feeling of reality had hit the musing band of crewmembers, and so the exhilaration of the moment erupted underneath the mask of sweat and goose bumps.
That had only been the beginning of it. After their frontiersmen, many shouted ordinary statistics as though the battle’s outcome rested upon their independent shoulders…not far from the truth. Not bad for those quite possibly marked for death. They were all in the same boat of deception and wary potentials, and that, alone, would be their connection to resurrect a spirit of unison.

And then there was Xylon. “The original stoic,” or so the rumor spread throughout the joyless hallways. With an eye contact matching the grip of death, itself, the troubled soul’s public appearance never surpassed the basic word of “profound.” When presented with the class of profoundness, even fewer bothered to ask. Some gawked at the freedom his demeanor entailed, and others understood in a subliminal sort of way. When isolated and left to rest at the norm, a strange glimmer of content sent waves through his dark pupils before fading into their tedium once again. So was life: the recurrence became a soothing familiarity with the wear and tear of time.

But now…it was war. Emotion emitted only loss in this quintessential fight for the right to life. The most stolid of idles retrogressed to a primitive exhilaration, Grand Commander Hexyra included. Carnage, and its addicting cohorts, rampaged over all at one instance or another; regardless the cause asserted, everyone fought simply to kill. Therefore sat Xylon ablaze with as much fury as any other –




*


The Iron Mantis had barely made the transition in time to make formation. The Katana held the position directly above the Jenova, with the Iron Mantis taking up a position in the starboard flank.

Commander Vespian had glanced at the intel and while the Imperial responses would be quick, it seemed nothing the Republic Fleet couldn’t handle.

There was a profound sense of confidence which disturbed the Commander.

“Fleet formation looks good, Commander.” Captain Laskin commented.

“Yes sir.”


*

The enemy was giving as good as it got as incoming firing from the defending vessels but it was nothing the Fleet couldn’t handle.

“The Jenova needs to be brought into range.. Look! Jedi Master Jiren is clearing the way!”

Advance Vlyx cruisers were moving to bring the Imperial yards within range.


And that was when all hell broke loose.


“Enemy units reverting!” The scanning officer shouted, surprised at what his board was telling him

“Postion!” snapped the Captain.

“Z plus … several hundred kilometers… above us!”

“What?”

The bows of the incoming enemy fleet were pointed down at the Jenova’s formation.



*


The Reign Class Star Destroyer had unleashed it’s fury upon the Jenova and the ships supporting it nearby.

‘Imperial fighters incoming!”

“More enemy divisions reverting!”

It looked like a logistics nightmare and while men raced to respond with a fury of their own, space suddenly looked a bit crowded, lights of death lancing everywhere.

The mission held.

The combined will’s of Jiren and Hexyra wouldn’t let it fail.

“Katana is taking hits!”

“Prepare to come about! Give the Jenova some room! Lay down some fire… give them time!”
Captain Laskin grunted. “We will redeploy and answer. The enemy division doesn’t seem to be that strong..”


And then Trajan’s world fell apart.

The underside of the Iron Mantis shuddered as incoming fire suddenly came from an unexpected source.

Massassi ships were suddenly firing on them.

“Exel betrayed us!”

And a pit formed in Trajan’s stomach. There would be no support for the ships outmaneuvered above.

“Sir, the Katana..” but the man needed no more words for the sensors showed all.

Another volley from the Reign’s Fleet from above ripped into the Victory Star Destroyer’s shields and struck it’s hull bursting the durasteel apart as if it were paper.

The ship held position for a second until it began to list, totally out of control as debris scattered from it’s wounds.

“Survivors?” Captain Laskin shouted above the commotion. Trajan had been too shocked to utter a sound.

“Lower levels only show life signs..”

The Captain slapped Trajan out of his shock. “Focus Mister! I need you here and now!”

And like a machine, Trajan moved to complete a mission that had torn apart his future in one swift blow.



The battle was a resounding success, the Imperial shipyard having been destroyed, many ships set adrift. The Imperial fleet had also inflicted it’s own damage and the Katana was taken in tow by the Jenova when it left the system of Dantooine.





Apocalypse


The morning had an air of the typical as it always had for the past year. The same... everything the same.

The same lack of water…

The same cold and hot air circulators going on the brink…

The same dismal moral that lay like a shroud on the entire Republic Fleet.


Commander Trajan Vespian studied himself in the mirror, noting how the lines of life stretched from his eyes that once held a certain mirth.

War.

War had done this to him, he thought in an emotionless mental reflection as he dressed.

On his dresser was the current status reports of the ship. Reports that didn’t look too encouraging. Systems (major and minor) were failing and the lack of parts were beginning to take it’s toll. The ration schedule for the crew for the next month was also there for his review.

An inventory from the ship’s medical department… a plea for items that were hardpressed to be found on Corellia.

Especially a Corellia under blockade.

The monitor came on and the broadcast was another pseudo intellectual analysis on the ramifications of the Imperial operation called Endgame.

The fall of Coruscant would have been a more apt title.

A signal that heralded the return of the Galactic Empire and a drowning of everything they had all fought, bled and died for.

Politicians were beginning to become a problem as civil unrests were handled despite the falling resources.

Then the near coup from the renegade Republic Admiral Drayson.

The only calm to their situation, the Jedi Master Gash Jiren, still surprisingly in command of the Fleet despite the politician’s meddling. The debacle with Thrawn that left the Jedi Master Hexyra hurt months before was a blow indeed to their moral. Not even the Masters were untouchable.


And then the damned plague that seemed to strike out of nowhere. Not even the Imperial Capital seemed immune.

Nature had a way of balancing things... sometimes for the worse.


Yes, things are bad.


He touched a picture of Marlena on his dresser before exiting his quarters.


“Commander on deck! Sir, the Captain wants you in his conference room immediately.”

“Then the bridge is still yours Mr. Neran.”


Discipline. Drilled and redrilled at the command of Gash Jiren. It was the only thing that was holding the Republic together now. The citizens turned to the orderliness of the Fleet and found security in the familiar.

Unfortunately, familiarity also bred contempt. The Fleet had first priority on most things.

It was the only thing holding the Empire at bay, even under siege.

But to what end?

The Republic was losing and they knew it.

Captain Laskin was speaking toward a monitor holding the image of the Jedi Master though Vespian could see that this was a conference the entire fleet was listening in on.

“With Sernpidal gone, we will be hardpressed to find any aid among the Hapans..” he was saying.

“With Sernpidal gone, Captain Laskin, there is no strategic point to halt any attack by the Empire to sever the Trade Spine. That Spine, Captains and Admirals is what is keeping us .. keeping the Republic alive right now.

If it falls, we die.”

Trajan nodded at the sentiment and sat down next to his Captain. Pulling out his calculator he began to figure the time any retreating ships would take to reach what was left of Republic space.

Jiren’s image though looked amused. “No, Captain. There are many other ways we could die from.”

He cleared his throat. “However, NR Intelligence has uncovered a serious situation developing in the Outer Rim.”

The Jedi Master pushed some buttons and tactical information began to scroll across secondary terminals.

“A planet shrouded in secrecy, the former capital of the Empire, Bastion is the hub of a new rebellion. An emergence of a ‘New Empire’. This is why the Imperials have halted their advance after Sernpidal and why their ships blockading Corellia have departed.”

Trajan sat up straighter. This was news to him.

And the Captain’s voices drowned out Jirens…

“Strike now!”

“.. We could ally ourselves with..”

“..possibly buy us time to rebuild ..”

“NO!” shouted Jiren cutting through the chatter. “Look at what this New Empire is about..” and more tactical information scrolled by.

Trajan gasped.


So the plague had a name... Wrath..

Nature had no part in its inception after all..


“This virus was purposefully unleashed on Coruscant.”

“Yes.” Jiren confirmed. “I know Regent Hyfe will fight this upstart but this Tilaric Brel will hold the entire galaxy hostage and that gentlemen affects us.”


“You are proposing to join the Empire?” a Captain asked incredulously.

“We leave the Empire to deal with this there is a gamble that they will fail. Then we will have to deal with them and we are nowhere near their strength. If we add our strength to the Empire’s there is a chance.”

“The enemy of our enemy is our friend?”

“Something like that.”

“Admiral Jiren, with respect, without Fleet presence on Corellia, what is to become of the Republic?”

Trajan had to respect the Captain who brought that up.

“What is to become of the galaxy if our presence is nowhere near the battle that will decide it’s fate?” Gash shot back and then he sighed. “It is a gamble. We win and the war with the Empire might start up. But the Empire is a known quantity. This Wrath virus isn’t. We win and both the Empire and Republic find they are too weak to fight themselves and the war is put off. We come back to Corellia and retake it if necessary from the anarchy that would result in our absence.

Or Republic and Empire lose and then it won’t matter worth spit what happens. Whatever happens, Bastion will be the place it is happening. Our fates will be decided there and gentlebeings, I intend the Republic to be a major player. We depart in two days for Outpost 6512.”


Trajan looked at Captain Laskin. “What happens if the New Empire falls, the Republic falls, but the Galactic Empire remains?”

The Captain put his hand over Trajans and motioned for the younger man to put away his calculator.

“Sometimes the estimates do not take this into consideration.” He said, patting Trajan’s heart as he stood. “Come, we have a ship to ready.”


*



Taken from Transitions: A Change of Season


The taskforce continued forward, inbound for Bastion. The Republic vessels were right beside their own, forming together a sizable force. Another instance, Vikar thought, of the careful masquerade of harbored enmity.


*


“Where is she?” demanded Trajan quietly. Captain Laskin turned to his Commander.

“The Galactus?”

“Yes dammit. Where is Kaine?”

“Maybe he is dead.” Laskin offered making sure the Iron Mantis was in formation.

“No.. Not him.. Not yet…” Trajan’s frustration was boiling. The nondescript man who should have died at Dantooine, his vessel killed from under him.


The man who killed Marlena.


The man, who’s efforts turned out maniacs like this Tilaric Brel.


No!


*

And so, the first turbolaser volleys began their exchange, massive beasts of steel twisting and turning awkwardly as they began their battle.

Thousands of them.

Red and green beams of murderous light filled the viewport of Vikar's flagship. Beams of vengeance, each one fired with the righteous fury of one man who had finally found his revenge for a ten-year-old grudge, thought forgotten.

Hate is never forgotten, Vikar thought. Only disguised. And perhaps, disguised hate is the most dangerous.

Vikar's Terra Firma shoot with all the ferocity of a quake of its namsake. The explosion of a destroyed Imperial Star Destroyer blistered across the viewport, Bastion hanging in the distance.


*

He was helping the Empire. The Empire that had killed her. The Empire who hailed murderers as it’s leaders.

The irony burned him.

Where was the justice?

Oh, how the irony burned.

*

Hate always won.


Outside of the vessel he'd been assigned, the battle raged on. The Republic's Sovereign Star Destroyer and Eclipse Star Destroyer fought valliantly alongside the Empire's Eclipse Star Destroyer. But it was painfully clear that it was not enough. The enormous, co-ordinated, well-supplied forces of the New Empire were quickly assaulting and flanking the coalition of New Republic and New Order.


*


An enormous barrage of laser fire struck the Iron Mantis, panels exploding across the bridge, suppor struts falling from the ceiling killing many.

Like a rudderless sailing ship, the Mantis buckled under the gravitational stresses, shockwaves spinning it slowly out of formation.


Trajan spit blood out of his mouth as he gingerly lifted himself up from the floor. Smoke, broken electrical boards and debris were littered everywhere.

Small fires burning here and where red washed with the screams of the injured.

Captain Laskin was pinned under a support strut, grasping at the air. Trajan limped over to him and found that the Captain was blind, his hands finding a firm hold on Trajan’s shoulder.

“T… Take the ship. Crew… ..safety..”


“Sir… I don’t know if I can do it!” his voice fought to stay calm, his eyes seeing the flickering tactical scanner of thousands of ships locked in combat.

“Forget the formula!” the Captain, in a moment of coherence snapped. “Feel, Commander. Have faith that things will turn out alright. That good will triumph in the end..”


Trajan grasped the man’s hand a new purpose beginning to grow within. “I will keep them safe, Captain.”


Laskin’s features clouded over in pain but then he nodded.

“Thank you… Cap…”

And his face held no more emotion.


Another panel exploded. Commander Vespian took a moment to glance around the broken bridge.

Pulling out his personal comm. Unit, “Medical units to the bridge! Engineering! I need the hyperdrive up and running now!”


“We’ve got a mess down here Commander! It’ll take time..”

“We don’t have it. I will try to keep us alive as long as possible.

Auxilary weapons control, track port quandrant’s 3 and 4. Reroute helm through auxiliary stations and prepare to bring us about.”

The remaining bridge crew were stoically holding their positions. Bleeding and injured their discipline held.

Trajan whispered a prayer of thanks to Admiral Jiren and once again entered the conflict.


*

And out of it all came a galaxy wiped clean. Suddenly, there was no dominant Empire; no murderous splinter cell; no Republic. The Sovereign and Twilight were destroyed at Bastion, as was most of the Imperial fleet.

The New Republic, suddenly splintered by the destruction of its fleet and the devastating effects of the Wrath virus on the galactic economy, dissolved in a flurry of political word battle. Its worlds were once again independant.

All that remained was a galaxy with limitless possibility. Limitless potential.





Full Circle



Corporate Sector, Neutral Space



“Commander Vespian? We are receiving a signal.”

“We receive lots of signals, Ensign.” Trajan commented dryly from the conference room overlooking the reports of the recent repairs done to the Mantis. Incredibly the power convertor he had seen the first time coming aboard had proved its worth hundred fold.

And now they had another. Old New Republic Fleet (the thought made Trajan laugh) technology was becoming a rarity.

Some of the battle damage had been repaired as best it could with what they had while other damage was left for future endeavors. Damaged as it was, the Iron Mantis was able to flee but not far. News of the Republic’s fall had left the Core a dangerous place for an injured NR Fleet vessel so Trajan opted for the anonymous shipping lanes of the Corporate Sector.

But where to go from there was anyone’s guess. The Mon Calamari were still independent but Ossus still held a fond memory with the crew.

It seemed that the fates were kind to Gash Jiren. He returned to his homeland to assume his leadership, the Republic a lost cause.

Would there be another rally? Another call to arms?

Or would the darkness consume all?


“Sir, this signal is using an old New Republic code.”

That caught Trajan’s attention. “Location?”

“Unknown as yet sir. The signal has been degraded. Our equipment almost did not catch it.”

“A blanket transmission then?”

“And a weak one sir. Decryption NR3X1NEW was used.”

“Is it working?”

“Not as well as we’d like. NR3X1NEW is a decryption for transmissions, not recorded messages. All we know now is that it was sent from an Admiral Hyrkuk.”

“Admiral Hyrkuk?” Trajan suddenly stood up. “Make decoding that message your priority.”

“Should we do a blanket response on the same frequency?”

“No. Until I am convinced it is not an Imperial trap, we remain silent.”

“Yes Sir.”

A signal on a New Republic frequency. Odds are that it was a trap. But what if..?

Mess Hall, Deck Six, Victory-Class Star Destroyer Hades

"Don't you find that a bit childish?" her voice trembled with suppressed excitement as a smooth grin crossed her lips. Tristan smirked as well, his boyish good looks growing more and more attractive as he did. He admittedly had a sexy smile, though she would never admit it. His soft brown eyes danced with excitement.

"No, really! She's beautiful, exciting, intelligent... fun. What more can a guy ask for?"

"Maturity."

"Shut up."

She smiled, shook the sugar container, and slowly let the tiny white crystals sink into her durafoam cup as steam billowed from the thick black liquid. With the stur of a spoon, she raised it to her scarlet lips, and listened as he continued.

"You don't understand, Lianna. This is the girl of my dreams!" She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure she is. Just like Rachel, Sarnia, Aalydia, Sal,... " she paused, and took a sip of her beverage. "Alesa, Morgana, Adriana, Trenesa, Trina..."

"Those were different."

"How?"

"They were...." his face grew red with frusteration as Lianna raised her eyebrow, and let the same cinical grin cross her lips.

"Nevermind!" he blurted as he sat back. She could tell by the arogant roll of his eyes that she was getting on his nerves. Somehow she managed to get on every good guy's nerves, and attract the bad ones. The ones that aren't there when you wake up in the morning. The ones that don't even bother to leave a note.

"Listen," she extended her hand across the table as he looked away, his teeth clenched tightly as she dared tough the tecture of his skin. "I'm only playing with you, Tristan. If this one is the girl of your dreams, then go for her! You don't have to keep coming to me for approval, or acceptance. I'll always love you, but you need to grow up a little bit."

He blushed They'd been friends the Republic Naval Academy freshman year. For three years, they took the same classes just to be around one another. Tristan, being the class clown that he was always managed to make her laugh. Always put a smile on her face. Smiles that she paid for when he came to her to do his assignments. She smiled at the memories of the past, almost distant until he shook her arm, and sat back up to the table to hover over his plate.

"So where is she stationed?" Lianna asked as she snapped back to reality. "Electronic Warfare." She noticed a soft smile on his lips before she spoke.

"Well, it's good to know that you aren't interested in another skanky blonde." They both laughed.

"What's her name?"

"Commander Alexis Troy."

Lianna's smile quickly vanished.

Command Bridge, Victory-Class Star Destroyer Hades

She leaned over, an obscure yet determined look on her face as he jaw clenched tightly shut. "You could have told me."

The commander didn't speak... at first. Commadore Terian walked behind them, his stern eyes glancing over there sholders as he paused only briefly, and then continued walking, his stern, squared jaw remaining clenched. It was true, he ran a tight ship but then again everyone did under Admiral Gash Jiren's command.

"I didn't need you upset with me, Lianna. We've got more important things to do." she retorted, never once taking her eyes off of her control panel. The bridge buzzed with activity as it usually did when the fleet was on the move. Lianna's face grew red with frusteration; her fingers slamming the red and blue buttons into there positions.

"You of all people! You!" she whispered a little more rigorously. "Incase you have forgotten Ensign, you're under my command." Alexis said with a glair. Lianna bit her lip.


"The next time you decide to sleep with someone's best friend, the least you can do is have the dignity to tell them before they find out!"

Lianna stood, folded her hands behind her back, held her head high, and walked off of the command bridge. Commadore Terian followed closely afterward, his stern jaw still clenched, his face empty of any emotion. As the hiss of the airlock opened, he grabbed her arm. "Ensign Fairchild," he growled, emotion of fury suddenly flooding the textures of his face. "This is my ship," he pointed behind him as the airlock closed, fifty sets of eyes peeking through the small crack before the door fully came to a grinding slam. "That is my command bridge, and this is Admiral Jiren's fleet! Now I don't care what goes on in your personal life," he continued brushing his grey hair from his forehead as he continued, hisface mere inches infront of her own. "but while you're on my command bridge, you follow orders! Now get with it Ensign, or I'll happily have you escortwed to the brig!"

She nodded her slumped head, and slowly walked through the airlocked doors.

Command Bridge, Victory-Class Star Destroyer Hades

"Revision from Hyperspace successful, Commadore." a tactical officer spoke up from his station as the transparisteel viewing port's faint white lines vanished into a dark, desolate black-speckled-white backdrop. She hated the vast emptyness of space, the cold eerieness of it all.

Auxilary systems online, life support systems on stand-by." another spoke. Her stomach turned into a thick knot as her fingers danced smoothly across the control panel before her. She looked up briefly only to find Alexia's concerned face staring back at her. With a soft 'good luck', Alexia bent back over her station. Lianna smiled, still pleased with the news they had discussed the prior night. Alexia was pregnant with Tristan's baby. He didn't know it yet, but after this battle, he would have a family. A warm feeling rushed throughout her body, but immediatly ceased as the knot in her stomach wrenched out once more as the Commadore spoke.

"This is it ladies and gentlemen. Tactical, get the turbolaser batteries prepared to fire on my command." Lianna nodded her head, swollowed hard, and did as commanded. "Turbolasers prepared to fire on command, Commadore."

The Commadore stood in silence, his combat uniform neatly pressed, and his hair combed to one side. He took a strange, admirable sort of pride in his work. A pride in battle, and in his ship, and occasionally, his crew. He folded his arms behind his back as he glared over the transparisteel viewing port before him, his face excited, yet still as stern as ever.

And then, the excitement melted from his face. "Raise shields!"

"Evasive maneuvers!"

The ship shuddered with the impact of an explosion, as did her heart. With a soft rumble, the ship shuddered again as it began to turn as quickly as it possibly could. The lights of the command bridge flickered, and in there absence, only red and blue flashes offered light. Turbolaser Fire... The Commadore fell backward, grabbing the arm of his command chair for support before pulling himself back up.

"Open fire! Fire at will!" he shouted, the crew still slightly shaken by the sudden burst of activity, but able to do there jobs as quickly and as accuratly as they possibly could. Red sirens swirled throughout the ship as the Red Alert activated, the undeniable wale of the siren echoing throughout the battleship. "Protect the Jenova!"

Another volley.... another shudder from the ship's hull, and another streak of turbolaser fire, almost uniform to the last attack. And then, silence.... Once again, the Commadore bellowed orders as the ship continued to take evasive action while moving toward the now crippled Jenova, the pride of the New Republic's fleet. She looked up.

"We're loosing her..." the Commadore dared a feutal comment, barely heard by the crew, but heard. "Target Gamma One Four Seven G!"

"Target aquired, Commadore!"

"Fire!"

Lower Decks, Victory-Class Star Destroyer Hades

"Tristan!" she shouted, billowing thick black smoke filling the lower decks of the ship as the once small fires continued to rage, feeding on what flamable material they could to survive. The fires clung to survival.

And so did she...

"Tristan, answer me!"

Silence.

"Tristan!"

"Ugh..."

She rushed toward the sound, her feet carrying her faster than she had ever dreamed they could carry her. Her cheeks were still bloack with sout, still bleeding from tiny scratched etched into her once fair skin by shards of flying durasteel. The Hades began to list, slowly at first, and then it began to list heavily, it's hull groaning with displeasure, and then cracking.

She looked down, a single tear filling her eye as she looked upon the body of Tristan, barely able to move under the massive durasteel pole that had pinned him. She bent down, her fingers running through his light brown hair as a soft smile crossed her lips. "I'm here, Tristan.... I'm here...."

"Did we win...?" his voice filled with pain as he spoke. The tears that had swelled within her eyes danced slowly down her cheek, and fell onto his tattered uniform. She smiled softly,whiping her nose as she spoke. "Of course we won, Tristan. You did a wonderful job." he smiled, coughed, and then choaked on his own blood. She lied. Hades.... How fitting that she should be positioned on the Hades at a time like this.

"I... I don't.... I don't think I'm going to make it, Lianna."

"Don't you say that, Tristan! You're going to be fine...."

His eyes closed tightly as the coughing, and choaking continued. She pressed her hands against the smooth fabric of his shirt, and then pushed harder as she bit her lip. "Listen to me! You have to make it!"

Nothing...

"Tristan, you have to make it..." she continued, breaking down into tears. "You're going to be a father, Tristan.... a father..." He opened his eyes for a moment, and a bright smile crossed his face.

He coughed... choaked....

Nothing....

No..... Ooh God, No......

He was dead.

Serenity Station, Sanctuary, Present Day

"What happened?" she demanded.

"We lost our frequency, Lieutenant. I'm positive that your transmission got through before we lost contact."

"Get it back!"

The communications officer nodded his head as Lianna reholstered her blaster, and looked around, each officer attending to his station with a strange sence of pride, or... of hope.

"Admiral," she started. He nodded his head as she spoke. His eyes blazed with fury. "Yes?" he replied coldly.

"Convine the Last of the Faith. I expect we'll have company soon enough."

<font size=-2>[Note: The Battle I refer to in my post is the battle of Dantooine in Empire’s Shadows: Republic’s Light.</font>

Shipping Lane 2734, "Rodek's Drift"


Corporate Sector




"This message is a @#%$ to crack sir." the technician called over his shoulder as Commander Vespian walked over to him (albeit silently he had thought).


"There!" another tech answered. The signal splicing equipment showed what was being extracted..

Which was damn little!

A series of figures appeared and then the signal died.

"That was it?" Trajan asked dejectedly.

"Sir? I think those are coordinates..."

The Commander narrowed his eyes at the screen. "I'll be on the bridge. Have the cartographers find me a location, Ensign."


"Aye Sir."


*


"You still think it's a trap?"

Trajan sighed as his Chief Engineer watched with interest, the secondary bridge port side scanner controls being replaced.

"I could be."

"Well, anything could be something. How certain are you that it is?"

Trajan tapped on his calculator some but then cancelled out the values. "The odds are not good considering... but then, there is no future here either."

"Not if we don't want to be pirates.." the Engineer grinned.

Vespian sighed. He had made the decision but the Engineer helped him put reason behind it. The burly man was his sounding board.

As soon as we have a location, the tactical planning will begin.


*


The computer spit out the location and inserted it onto the layout of the galaxy.

He scratched his head.

"What the frell is that?" he mumbled to himself.


There is definitely a star there, though...


"Bridge, this is Cartography. Sending overlays now."

<span style="color:black;font-size:medium;">Turak System, Turak IV</span>
<font color=black size=4>Imperial Hammers Elite Armor Regiment Repulsion</font>

"Hyperspace Inversion in 5...4...3...2...1..."

The bridge shook with such furiousness he wasnt sure she would hold together. He held on to the panel in front of him and spoke a silent prayer that she would. His hands flew across the controls with delicate persicion; gravametric stablizers, internal compensators, internal repulsorfields all humming in synch with his gentle touch. The shaking died off just as quickly as it had begun, the small Corellian CC-7700 just as reliable as the day she was assembled

"We've got incoming... TIE's and a Blastboat"

He spun on a swivel and faced the sensor grids... @#%$, four TIE fighters escorting a Blastboat towards planetary Orbit had detected their entry in system and were moving to intercept. It was a Skipray, it had to be a skipray, their durability was well reknown. He might have been cocky behind the seat of this CC-7700 had he not piloted a Blastboat before joining the rebellion. He had a better shot at liberating Coruscant than punching through that ship with the weapons he had available.

"Vector! Whats the vector!?"

"Im redirecting a live feed of the information to your consoule"

A screen flickered by his right hand, switching from power readouts and life support readings to a fully fledged tactical readout and sensors display. Sure enough, they had been spoted, and unless he had forgeten how to read one of these things, they were ready to strike as soon as they got within range

"Raise sheilds the sheilds and get a target lock on those TIE's"

In these situations his command staff became little more than stage hands and he the director on the stage of his ship. The tactical screen lit up as he redirected power across the grid to the laser cannons. They might not have stood much of a chance, but they would give it their all.

"Have we been hailed yet? By anyone?"

"No word from the surface yet, nor any ships in orbit. I believe the Imperials may be observing radio silence."

Before them the Blastboats fighter escort diped ahead of it, rolling in formation before approaching The Carowing from below, where it lacked any weapons mounts. His fingers flew over the positioning thrusters, twisting the ship over in space brining its arment to bear on the Fighter craft. He rolled his hand over the targeting mainframe, as he did so it switched off, the sensors display still readily active to him though.

"Mart, youve got Tactical, Target and fire boy!"

The ship rocked under the the blasts from the fighter craft as the approached, the sheilds glowing blue under the hits. A more distinctive rocking came back, the laser cannons pulsed back. His skilled hands hit control after control, keeping the front of the ship alligned to follow the more agile craft, not an easy task.

"Our rear shields are failing... 25% strength and dropping... Its the Blastboat!"

"How in. Increase power to the rear projectors! Keep firing!"

The ship kept rocking, a fighter went across the front viewport and suddenly was ignited in flame. Its high pitched wail vanishing into the night as it passed.

"What was that? Did the power just flicker or did I blink?"

"They power cores overloading, too much of a strain keeping that rear sheild up, it seems to be their main target!"

"Ready the backup generators, we need to keep that Blastboat off our ass!"

He jerked back away from the console as sparks flew into his face, covering his face with his hands as the lights sputtured again.

"Rear sheilds down"

Thats all he said, no more really had to be said. He saw the planet looming ahead, dangerously close, outside his viewer. Dangerously close wasnt the right words, he looked back at his sensor panel to check distances, only to realize there wasnt any power. Turning back he saw the shining of eyes looking back at him.

"Well, I must say, its been a pleasure serving with you all. Seems weve got an anticlimatic end here, either those ships out there are gonna nail us good in their next run, else we slide int..."

He couldnt continue talking, he was out of breath. He tried to breathe in but it took too much effort. His chair spun around to give him a clearer view of exactly what was happening. He was right, the ship was slipping into the atmosphere. The Imperials would have to wait there turn to get him, seems whatever gods were out there wanted him first.

He pressed two white knuckled fists into the board in front of him, holding himself up as the ship began to accelerate through the atmosphere in a free fall. It felt like he was being crushed from all sides, Lord it hurt....


He was going to pass out if this didnt end, he didnt know in what condition his crew was, he could only guess it wasnt good. With all his strength he raised his fist in defeat and smacked it down hard on the consoul. It flickered to life... The Back up Generators! He taped the button where the internal compensators would have been, if he could do anything it wouldnt be while he was jammed to a chair.

The pressure subsided but he could still feel the spin of the ship in its free fall. Redirecting what power he had left he brought back the main computer, nothing was operating and there was only 25% power in the batteries. Quickly he went to work...

Thruster left

Thuster right

Keeping balance

Nose Up

To the sky

10% power and dropping fast, but not quite as fast as the ship, the sensation was sickening, droping to the ground somewhat backwards from the sky. 5% left, He blasted all thrusters and the main engines hard up, the power readings droping to nothing immediatly as the vessel collided with the ground at a bone wrenching speed. Bone wrenching, yet not deadly speeds.

His body ached all over, he heard scraping sounds behind him, some of the crew must have been conscience as well. Proping his arms against the chair he crawled down the ships wall, being completely vertical it would be rough to get out. It needed to be done, they were Turak's reinforcement group and he intended to help out in any way possible, even if it ment on the ground.

The second chair down he found Marty straped into his seat, hanging listlessly, placing a finger to his neck he couldnt feel a pulse. The fall must have killed him, so sad, a talented young man still in his prime, so much he still had to give.

He suddenly felt the wall come up at him to say hi. Rubbing his ribs he stared out at the brand new hole in his once proud vessel, a hovertank viewable off to the horizon.

"Today just isnt gonna be my day..."

"Raven, you still alive up there?"

He reached under a set of panels, pulling out a blaster rifle and micro binoculars. Straping the rifle over his shoulder he took out the binoculars and scanned the horizon. The Alliance troops were holding the line against the Imperial armor, a very prideful act.

"Hello? Someone?"

"Yeah, Raven here, whos is this? Better yet, where are you?"

"G'hron, I was fixing a energy coupling on the power core when we went down... Im kinda traped behind this door now it seems..."

"Stay right there, I can fix that"

He looked around the walls, appologizing to his former herald before leveling the blaster at the locking mechanism

"Actually, back away from the door a bit!"

Unloading a couple shots in rapid succesion the expanded metal of the lock allowed the door to slide open automatically. Reholstering the rifle over his shoulder he shoved the door open the rest of the way.

"Say, those markings on your... why were you working on my ship? Isnt that the insignia of the Homeless Battalion?"

"Yeah yeah, you know how many times Ive heard that on this trip alone? We all have to help where possible, tis an Empire we fight after all"

"Yeah, I gotcha, gimme your hand, lets get ya outta there"

<span style="font-size:xx-small;">[Note] Not finished</span>

Shipping Lane 572, "Flitter's Strait"


Corporate Sector



The small trading vessel was cloaked by the shadow of the underbelly of the Iron Mantis, warship of the former Republic Fleet.

"This is what I could get, Captain." the burly alien said, lowering his heavy bulk into a chair that was not meant to carry a person of his frame.

"It's Commander," Trajan mumbled absently as his eyes began to glance at the rather poor quality data and photos of the inner system in question.

The alien only grunted. They had gone back and forth on that point for quite a while.. since the limping VicStar drifted into the Corporate Sector. Nearly scared the Captain Borngi out of his second skin.

The data showed scant data indeed but it was more than what Trajan had before so he nodded his appreciation. "What do I owe you for these?" he asked gratefully.

Captain Borngi merely waved his hand, as if refusing an offer. "A simple visit by your Chief Engineer would be payment enough, Captain."

Trajan nodded appreciatively for he had few wares in storage with which to part. Knowledge though was something of a valuable commodity in these parts. It not everyday a smuggler had access to a top rated Republican Technical Engineer.

He said so.

"Merely a trader of rare antiquities." the alien said with brash aloofness.

Trajan laughed and then sobered. "I truly do thank you for this Borngi. If you need anything.."

"I know where to find the drifting bits of your hull.." the alien said, pointing one if his many fingers at the data on Trajan's side of the table.

"You didn't see any sign of Imperial presence."

"As if they'd be obvious about it." the alien scoffed. "I've grown too fond of you Republican Captain.."

"..more like 'fond of my Engineer'." Trajan interrupted.

"..but these Imperials are a nasty bunch. They have bounties out there for any capture or destruction of a former Republic Naval Vessel."

"The @#%$ leave nothing to chance do they?" Trajan commented bitterly.

"All I am saying is: Be careful. I swear, it's a wonder you humans can see anything around you without four eyes in the back of your head.

Something about that system, my friend, says 'stay away'."

Trajan nodded and took another look at the data, the vague outline of ...something around the only planet that the alien had the luck of capturing.

The printout was bad.

A station?



*


"So there is nothing left to do?" Commander Vespian asked of his Chief Engineer.

"Well, Commander, we've repaired about all we can. The gun emplacements turned to slag will not be repaired without full drydock facility and as you can see," he held his arms wide, "we are flat out of those."

"A simple, yes, would do." Trajan said, his eyes narrowing in mock anger.

"Where would be the fun in that. Commander, the lads are restless. They are regular military, not flamboyant pirates. They have been distracted lately but with news of this transmission going around the ship, they are anxious."

"Sometimes I wonder if I want to know what's going on in the galaxy, all I have to do is wait in the mess for several hours." Trajan grumbled.

"The only thing faster than the speed of thought sir. Gossip."

"That's because it moves without the burden of thought." Trajan snapped back.

"Very well. Helm, prepare to set course." he called out, from the command area. "Make sure all batteries are prepped and ready. We wil go in ready."

"Is that wise? We might piss off whatever is there."

"Wise? maybe not. But safe." Vespian grinned. "Besides, they may be too shocked to see a fully functional Republican Navy Victory Star Destroyer to actually do anything."

The Engineer kicked at a panel in a nearby wall, and watched as it fell off. The clanging noise still echoed when he muttered, "Not so fully functional."

"Engage Hyperdrive when ready, Lieutenant."


And the warship left the Corporate Sector.