The not too distant future...

Imperial Palace, Coruscant


From every military campaign there were two sides when the thunder of the guns did not deafen those who would strain their ears to listen - there was a conqueror, and a conquered. The former would often return to instant celebrity, uniforms and equipment ragged from campaigning replaced with only the most splendorous that could be provided; after all, one did not parade in rags. The latter would march from the field with no fanfare awaiting those who survived the hell of battle; units would disband and their members would return home, dejected, into the waiting arms of consoling lovers. Some however, would have no homes to return to at all.


As he looked down from the balcony at the procession below, Grand Admiral Desaria lifted his thoughts in praise and in thanks to the Gods above that he was able to be on that former side so often. He knew, like so many military leaders that had passed into history, that victory was not pulled from the field through skill or force, but often through luck. He knew one could fight any enemy except two - the Gods and the Fates.


" Certainly do march well, don't they?"


Desaria sniffed in response, refusing to even turn and look at the still-corpulent form of Marshal Alexei Prem, Chief of the Imperial General Staff. He moved to the rail and placed his black gloved hands on the grey stone cooled by Coruscant's stiff breeze. Together they looked down twenty storeys at the black-clad troopers of the Imperial SS, marching in time into through the gates of the Palace and into its parade-ground. Outside the gates on either side of the promenade were adoring throngs of civilians, basking in the martial glory on Imperial Arms could bestow; inside, the families of soldiers and officers the Empire over yelled in congratulation. Drums beat and trumpets sounded and glory blanketed all.


" They're not on our level," Desaria replied, intimating that his Guard could outperform the black-clad upstarts to the world of military elites. In many ways he was right, but there was one area the SS was dominant, only challanged by the Inquisitoriate's Army or the security detachments of Intelligence: ruthlessness. Both the Guard and SS could fight on long after comparable Army or Navy units would have balked, but the Guard stopped at the line honour drew to attain victory - the SS stopped at nothing.


" Your Excellency," called Brigader General Maxim, his white shoulder cords bristling with the wind on the open deck. " Major-General Vos is here."


The Grand Admiral nodded. His Chief of Staff disappeared inside and a moment later, the commander of the SS stepped out into the afternoon air. He moved deliberately towards Desaria and Prem, stopping a few meters short to render a crisp salute. Baron Desaria brought his jackboots together with a sharp click any officer cadet would have envied for its precision and returned the martial measure of respect.


" General Vos, welcome back to Coruscant. You've done well, and the people see that." Marshal Prem gestured to the roaring speeders, the screaming populace, and the confetti being tossed up by so many droids before he slouched back against the stone. Desaria removed his white visor-cap and tucked it under his left arm. He regarded the SS man for a long moment, and after gritting his teeth extended a leather-gloved hand. Disdain as he might, an aristocrat could not buck tradition.


" Congratulations are in order. Welcome home, General."

Two weeks earlier


"General! Message from Coruscant!" The Lieutenant's voice rang out across the bridge, spoiling the blessed near-silence of the bridge crew doing their jobs, a silence that General Wesley Vos was very much enjoying. He had been contemplating his rapid rise in rank. Who could have guessed just over a year ago now that the lowly Captain, twice a defector and traitor, would institute a new branch of the military that, at least in his opinion, would rise to rival the power of the Imperial Guard?

Vos, despite his reverie being interrupted, managed to keep his temper in check. Had he been in a bad mood, he might have shot the Lieutenant on the spot for the breach of protocol. But he didn't like protocol all that much in the first place, and he was not in a bad mood. He rose from his seat and faced the Lieutenant. "Yes?" he asked. "What is it?"

The lieutenant handed him a datapad with an encrypted file on the screen. Its sender was the main account for Imperial High Command, the one they used when they had made a joint decision and were issuing new orders. Wonderful, thought Wes. He entered the password, then they de-encription code. The message read:

All offensive operations to cease beyond the current point of consolidating holdings. Reconnaissance in force authorized; major engagements to be avoided as reserves deployed elsewhere. Return to Coruscant for further orders.

Wes huffed loudly, making enough noise that the nearest personel turned to look at him. A quick glance sent them back to their work, though. Moving to the comm system, Wes contacted his seconds in command. There were a number of them by now - head of the Waffen-SS, head of the Kommandos, General of Infantry, Panzer General. He issued orders quickly. One thing he knew - he was not going to Coruscant alone. He ordered General Demelhuber, commander of the First Waffen-SS Division, to accompany him with one Venator. The Tyrant would also go, as would Selere and four squadrons of Kommandos. Wes had crossed wires with Bhindi Drayson before, and with her recent appointment to Supreme Commander - not to mention the rumors about the death of Park Kraken - he was no fool.


Present


None of Wes's fears had materialized. Drayson had not attempted to assassinate him, and his bringing the SS division had allowed him to parade them, as well as the tanks which were by now his pride (after all, he had designed them), through the streets of Coruscant and into the Imperial Palace. Now, as he stepped out to meet Admiral Desaria, he thought that his life was excellent.

"Grand Admiral Desaria," Wes said, taking the offered hand. "Good to see you again." His jet-black uniform contrasted sharply with the white of Desaria's. Much like their natures. Desaria cared about honor - all kinds of honor. Honor in battle, honor in life, honor in death. Wes only cared about honor insofar as it was between Imperials. Beyond that he had no use for it unless it served his purposes. Other than that, their uniforms were similiar. Spotless. Shoulder straps. Leather belts. The only other difference was the white lightning bolts on Wes's collar, the dreaded symbol of the SS. It was something Wes had not noticed before, but now that he thought about it, it almost made him laugh. Almost.

"Admiral Desaria, thank you for pulling these ceremonies together. It is nice to be honored by the people for whom we strive so hard to achieve order." He paused. "Though I admit that I have always found Coruscant a bit stifling. The air seems so close and oppressive, nothing like the rural Bakuran estate of my childhood."

Wes moved to the railing to watch the last of Colonel Hausser's regiment move through the gates and the beginning of Colonel Krutz's 1st Panzer Regiment enter. He smiled. "Are those tanks not amazing? It is with such might that we will one day crush the Confederation on the ground. They specialize in ground warfare, but those tanks - the Blitz and the Festung, in particular - will show them that they are no match for the might of the Empire."

Glancing towards the Admiral, Wes said, "I must admit, Admiral, I was a bit surprised to receive orders to cease operations. Campaign Meteor was a stunning success to this point. The only battle lost so far was one we intended to lose, and we have secured several important bases. But the mission is not yet finished. I can understand the need for security at the moment, with the appointment of a new Supreme Commander, but why reassign troops from such a vital mission as eliminating the Confederation's expansion?"

"Admiral Desaria, thank you for pulling these ceremonies together. It is nice to be honored by the people for whom we strive so hard to achieve order. Though I admit that I have always found Coruscant a bit stifling. The air seems so close and oppressive, nothing like the rural Bakuran estate of my childhood."


The Grand Admiral arched and eyebrow then turned to his right where Marshal Prem stood, equally miffed by the Major-General's relaxed demeanor. There he stood in front of the Commandant of the Imperial Guard, senior of the seven Grand Admirals in Imperial Service - despite that, the SS trooper sounded relaxed, as if he was addressing his company commander were he some nameless platoon sergeant. Desaria was quick to refocus his gaze on General Vos, all cordiallity gone from his face.


" General Vos, you were promoted barely a month ago to Major-General of SS. Before that you were a Brigadier, and before that a Colonel. Your rise has been rather meteoric but I wonder, where in that string of awards and accolades were you made my equal? Or the equal of Marshal Prem here, for that matter?"

Vos, who had been admiring his tanks, quickly came to attention. He had been in the company of the SS for too long. Within the ranks of the SS, especially within the Kommandos, differences in rank meant little but that the one got to make the big decisions and the other did not. Off duty, or even on-duty sometimes, a low-ranking officer could speak with Vos as though they were on an equal footing. Because of the nature of the operations of the SS, which encouraged individual initiative and camraderie, Wes encouraged such behavior. He had forgotten that the regular army, and especially the Guard, did not.

So, once again stiff as a board, Wes replied, "My apologies, Grand Admiral. Marshal. I sometimes forget my place." Without further comment, he stood and waited for Desaria to continue, hiding his disgust at the formality.

Hmmhmmhmmm, the Grand Admiral laughed within the confines of his head. Better to remember always that the SS is a small organization, and that the behavior which may pass within its ranks is far from the status quo in the regular services. You have questions, pointed ones, but it is not your place to ask them. Yet.

The Grand Admiral turned once more to face the parading columns before him. Again his eyes scanned over the battalions of infantry and the rows of tanks, tracker and hover, that rolled between units. They appeared able enough, but he really didn't concern himself with them. He knew the designs were SS in nature and that they were produced specifically for them; the Imperial Department of Military Research had approved them and it simply would not do to the fragile confidences of skiddish engineers and technicians for line officers to question their mechanical wisdom. The designs were sound, no doubt.

" General Vos, you are no doubt wondering why you were called back to Coruscant. Your men and the units attached to your command for Operation Meteor have done well, capturing several important systems almost precisely according to your plan. I aided you when you needed it until I was deployed elsewhere and you have done fine without me. Now, however, there is another task better suited to you."

The Grand Admiral turned his back on the proceedings and left the adoring populace their champions. He knew better. He looked at the General standing at attention before him and he saw a fire burning in the eyes shaded but not hidden by his black visor cap. Desaria knew that same fire burned in every set of eyes in every trooper in the SS. That fire was ruthlessness - not the kind of fanatical devotion found in the men of the Guard, no - those men knew their goal was to bring order to the galaxy and do so with honour and by doing so, bring glory to their ancestors. For the SS, there was no act to base in the name of the Empire.

Desaria looked hard at Vos and saw that flame. He recognized it, he hated it - but as a flag officer, he also knew how to put his feelings aside and use it.

" General Vos, your men have talents they are dying to put to use. Don't bother denying it and don't try to placate me either. Those talents - your talents - are being wasted with operations of a routine nature. Your actions of late could be handled by any task force in the Fleet, and I'm putting a stop to it. I don't like wasting resources General. As of right now, you and your SS are being reassigned."

The Grand Admiral walked around to the rear of Vos, the footfalls of his jackboots accented by the teeming masses below. He wondered just what the General was thinking, how much he could probably barely stand to remain at attention after being pulled off a mission like some regular infantry regiment.

" You're wasting Imperial resources, General, and I won't stand for it. Marshal Prem?"

The large-framed Chief of the Imperial General Staff waved at some passing speeder, doubtless containing several barely dressed females of varying species, before he turned his attention to duty. With what amounted to a sigh, he pulled a small crysac sheet from his tunic. " General Order 893639. Effective immediately, all formations within the SS are to deploy into OverSector Outer and commence containment operations there in company with the Imperial Customs Bureau. Your primary mission objectives are: the suppression and elimination of brigandige and piracy in that region; eradication by whatever means neccessary the corruption of planetary governments in regards to their complicity with illegal operations; the enforcing of all Imperial Laws in the above sector."

Prem replaced the crysac into his tunic and turned much faster than a man his size should have. Desaria and Vos were all but alone. The Grand Admiral stopped ahead of Vos and looked him again in the eyes.

" You'll do very well there, General. What the good Marshal has failed to tell you is that you will be commanding the total military occupation of OverSector Outer. The forces there will be redployed as you arrive. To properly convey the appropriate authority on you, I am promoting you yet again. You are now Colonel-General of SS."

Vos blinked. His anger barely contained, he managed to endure the verbal abuse from Desaria simply by drawing on every mental reserve he had. For Desaria to tell him that he was wasting Imperial resources - he, Wesley Vos, who had taken the best soldiers out of each branch of service and turned them into an effective fighting force - was a slap in the face. He couldn't take much more of it.

And then the Marshal waved at the girls in the speeder. Wes could barely refrain from making a comment about his tasteless activities just as he would to one of his subordinates. But he managed. Then the Marshal read the order.

"General Order 893639. Effective immediately, all formations within the SS are to deploy into OverSector Outer and commence containment operations there in company with the Imperial Customs Bureau. Your primary mission objectives are: the suppression and elimination of brigandige and piracy in that region; eradication by whatever means neccessary the corruption of planetary governments in regards to their complicity with illegal operations; the enforcing of all Imperial Laws in the above sector."

Now Wes was mad. Moved to Hutt Space?!? he thought. To do what, stop smugglers? To become the policeman of the Empire? What the kriff is Desaria doing? Does he hate me that much?

Then Telan came close to re-earning Wes's respect. He gave him a promotion to Colonel-General and gave him full military control in Oversector Outer. Wes, while remaining expressionless, smiled inside. Now this I can do something with, he thought. "Thank you, Admiral. Permission to speak freely?" Desaria nodded, and Wes added, "Privately, as well, Admiral, if possible."

Respect was a major issue in the SS. There were two factors that preceeded an officer's promotion in the SS - success in battle and respect of the men. An officer who did not earn his men's respect was almost certain to be demoted, and if he did something to violate the respect he had earned he was either dismissed from service or considered a traitor and executed. It was the single thing that allowed the SS to perform the way they did. And in Wes's mind, Telan had just violated that respect. If he didn't earn it back soon...

But then, what could Wes do to him? Telan was a Grand Admiral. A Colonel-General cannot dismiss a Grand Admiral. Nor did the regular army or the Guard operate in the same way as the SS. But Wes would be very happy to be back among his own units and away from the formality and rigidity of Coruscant. And that of the Guard.

The Grand Admiral turned his head to the right and tossed the CIGS a quick glance that he rightly interpreted. Marshal Prem took one last look at the close-flying starlets before turning and flashing a wide smile; he departed and left the two officers to themselves, high above Imperial City and the Palace courtyard.

Desaria and Vos stood there for a long moment, each one drinking in every detail of the other. They were each a Guardsman and SS-mann, the top of their fields with respect to their units. True enough, each man seemed to be cut from the same cloth: each were young and talented, rising through the ranks faster than his peers; each possessed a fanatical devotion to the Empire and the preservation of order; each was more than a soldier, he was a warrior. Their difference came in the execution of their duties of office - Vos and his men, they were selected for certain reasons. Vos did not know entirely as he had no control over whom the Personnel Bureau assigned him as candidates, but each one had earned a report from various commanders that was not entirely negative, but contained premonitions of infamy. To a man, the SS was contained of those who were not neccessarily brutal, but contained the possibility for brutality.

And so, as Desaria regarded Vos he saw that possibility in his eyes, and Vos doubtless could look into the Grand Admiral's soul and see what he perceived as a lack of devotion, of totality.

His men, his methods, they will be useful. Hutt Space is vast and in need of pacification. The Guard cannot do that job, we aren't mentally able to dispatch non combatants. The SS though, they are perfect. As an arm of law and order, they can do the job with enough frighening efficiency to tame the wilderness as it were.

" You have doubts, General Vos - I can read you like a book. You think this assignment beneath you, beneath your SS. Tell me why?"

Wes watched as Telan nodded to the Marshal and he walked - no, waddled - off. It struck the SS General at that moment how very much the Marshal reminded him of a duck. An oversized duck, but a duck nonetheless. He nearly burst into laughter, but once again his sense of discipline - not to mention self-preservation - came into play.

Wes and Telan stared into each other's eyes for a long moment, each sizing the other up. Wes saw a devotion to the Empire, but he also saw something like disdain in the Grand Admiral's eyes. A disdain for what, he did not know, but he guessed it was for either him or the SS in general. And the respect meter went down once more.

"You have doubts, General Vos - I can read you like a book. You think this assignment beneath you, beneath your SS. Tell me why?"

Wes smiled. The Grand Admiral was so devoted to the cause, so devoted to every assignment he got, that he could no longer even see something from the Empire as an insult. Or perhaps it was the strict individuality or the aspirations to greatness cultivated in the SS that caused Wes's concern. Either way, Desaria was right. He was bothered by the assignment.

"Sir, my men are crack troops. We are designed for specific roles. We can enter enemy territory undetected and come out alive, doing damage without them ever knowing how we did it. We can outfight and outmaneuver an enemy. We can cultivate revolts on enemy-occupied planets. We can deceive even the best enemy commanders. I hardly think shooting a few smugglers in the head will be quite the challenge my men will expect.

"You may not know this, Sir, but in the SS respect is the basis for everything we do. If the men do not feel that they are being challenged, they lose respect for their officers. They lose the desire to perform well, and by losing the desire they lose the ability. Not only does this make the SS no better than a conscripted unit, it also fosters the seeds of mutiny, something the SS - and the Empire - cannot tolerate. I am glad to be offered the position of Colonel-General and the ability to run the military affairs of Oversector Outer. I just need to be sure that the challenge will be up to the level of my men."

" Respect. Loyalty. Duty. Watchwords for us as soldiers, as Imperials. We know that to follow the orders given us, whether we like them or not, is the base of our oaths to assist protect and defense the peoples of the Empire. We know that to fail to obey they orders zealously and wholly disrespects every man, living and dead, who wears or has worn this uniform."

The Grand Admiral allowed his black gloved right hand to rest on his holster and the BlasTech G-445 inside. " General Vos, this assignment is far from beneath your men. Hutt Space is not some routine patrol assignment nor is it babysitting and backing up Customs interdiction stops. The entire sector is crawling with smugglers and briggands to be sure, but its also home to pirate fleets and governments none too happy about Imperial occupation and our interruption of their corrupt little lives. Your duty is bring Imperial law to every door step and put fear into the hearts - those that still beat - of those that oppose us. Beneath you> Hardly, General - this will be a challange indeed. And if I'm wrong, if you don't think you're being challanged and the General Staff agrees, I'll authorize your transfer to any posting you choose."

Vos finally allowed his expressionless exterior to break for a split second as he smiled at Desaria's response. His eyes gleamed with the prospect of a good challenge. And at the chance to finally be able to let his men run free. If he was right, brutality would go unpunished. Selere could exercise the more...base parts of his nature to their fullest. This was good.

However, he knew that for the plans already forming in his mind to succeed, he would need to have a few requests granted. Maybe if he asked nicely enough, Desaria might grant them. Vos had not missed the subtle movement of Desaria's hand to the pistol at his side. One wrong move, and Vos could end up with a hole through his chest. That would not be good. Not good at all.

So he nodded and said, "Ah. Thank you, Sir. I am glad to hear it. This is a much larger task than I thought, and will require a great deal of work. I believe that the SS will be tested to its limits and will come through successfully. However, to accomplish these missions with the best success, I do have a few requests. I will need someone with whom I can work closely holding political power. If I may make a suggestion, I would recommend General Liam Zhukov of Echtabahn. He has both the political and military expertise to perform well in the position, and he and I have worked together before.

"I also would like our recent aquisitions from Campaign Meteor to be transferred into Oversector Outer. That will give us a fairly safe haven for resting troops who become exhausted and for performing lighter repairs on ships. Echtabahn and its moons, of course, would be included in this transfer. Can this be done?"