Regrad watched from the half-finished balcony overlooking the training area. Every recruit he saw below was learning to fight as an individual - how to fight when surrounded, alone, without allies or option of escape. Each species had its' own ways of combat, and was adapted to various weapons and techniques. He watched with interest as a Firrerro, a tall and furry race of survivors, battered a sparing droid to dust with his bare hands in what could only be described as spitting rage.

"I shall have to remember to speak to that one." he said to Yolem, who stood at his side. "How are the reports coming along from the rest of the Coalition? I want all the details."

Yolem passed him a datapad, laden with statistical information, and saluted. "It appears we are making good progress, sir. The supply of ore went uninterrupted to our shipyards, meaning their production has continued at maximum output. It appears the first few orders will be available soon, and are to be distributed as it was outlined in the bill. Your request for a detatchment for this facility for training purposes has been approved as well, sir."

"Good, good." Regrad murmured as he scanned the information that appeared onscreen. The plans to construct academies and the like across the Coalition seemed to be moving ahead quickly. They followed a patterned design, altered only as necessary for the location so as to ensure familiarity with each facility will be a simple procedure. Each one was considerably elaborate, but as there was to be no more then one per planet, it was vital each would be built large enough and well-equipped enough to handle the vast amount of trainees and those returning to brush-up on skills.

"There is other news to report, sir. With our plans going on uninterrupted, it appears we will soon be prepared to begin troop-rotations into the advanced training facilities. I have already expressed concerns about this stage, sir."

"Have no fear, Yolem." he said "The plan is simply that a third of the Coalition's entire force will undergo additional training at a time, then they will rotate for the next third. It will take no more then perhaps six months for the initial training for all three thirds of the entire Coalition military, and from then on we'll take a more reasonable, part-time training approach. It is important we bring everyone up to speed quickly, and in the current environment I find it unlikely we will be attacked any time soon."

"If you say so..." said Yolem, uneasily "But if they did, we would be ill-equipped to defend ourselves."

Regrad paused. "Think of it this way, imagine we are besieged. If we can hold the base for six months, we will be strong enough to break out. That is the case here, if we can ensure we are not attacked for just six months, I can guarentee a fighting force adequetly trained and skilled to make best use of our weapons and techniques."

Yolem nodded. "As you say, sir."

Regrad nodded. "Is the physical training center prepared yet?" Yolem nodded.

"The work crews say it should take no more then a few minutes to pack up their equipment, then it will be all yours, sir."

"Good. I would like you to inform the recruits to wrap up the warm-up session and meet me in the training center in one hour."

With that, Regrad left the balcony.

One hour later, Yolem walked down into the training area. The recruits, each wearing a simple white jumpsuit, stopped their various assaults on droids, and turned to face him. Yolem was once again taken aback by the variety of the recruits, ranging in heights and colourations like nothing else he had seen.

"Recruits!" he shouted "Regrad is awaiting you in the newly opened Physical Training Center. I will ensure the area will be properly cleaned after you leave, dismissed!"

The recruits left, curious as to the nature of the training center. A few of the more adventurous ones advanced to the front of the group, to get a better look at the structure before them.

It appeared as a solid square, a block of stone with a large door hewn precisely into the front of it. There were no windows, no symbols, nothing. It would have been intimidating to most, but those assembled here were of the kind not easily scared.

They entered, and were met with the sight of a massive, empty chamber. On all sides, tiny projectors could just barely be visible mounted to the walls. The only feature on the floor was a raised dias upon which stood Regrad, at the controls of a computer. He was too far to easily make out, but some felt they could see some sort of movement.

In a flash, they were all forced to avert their gaze as the projectors hummed to life. Suddenly, in place of the massive room was a dojo, a sparring room adorned with weapons and marked on the floor for combatants. Regrad, with calm and measured footsteps, entered the center of the ring.

"I have seen you practice" he said "and I admit to being impressed. There is strength here, skill. But it will take more then that to best your future foes, and that is what this chamber is for. Here, you can fight any foe or relive any battle, without risk to yourself or your fellow Knights. It is also here, where you will test your skills against each other, proving strength and gaining skill far beyond what you already have in competition. And to start things off, I invite any one of you to hit me."

There was a noticeable silence. The crowd of recruits had been well chosen for their character and potential, but to so suddenly be asked to strike at the leader of your nation and your direct commander was off-balancing.

In the end, one stepped up, placing himself in front of Regrad. It was the Firrerro whom Regrad had earlier seen tear apart a training droid. "I believe I can, sir."

"That is very good, Knight, but first tell me your name."

"I am Jy-Zin, sir, although many have taken to calling me Jay."

"Well, Jay, it is good you believe. Believing you can is the first step towards success as I have no doubt you have heard before. But tell me, for interest, why did you-" And with that Regrad struck Jay in the stomach hard enough to cause him to double in pain and surprise "-announce your intention? I said you were invited to hit me, you only gave me time."

Jay, recovering, became enraged. Unlike most raging warriors, however, Regrad was impressed to see him keep himself under control. Jay opened up with a series of furious blows, each one as precise as a surgeon's scaple, and yet each infused with the strength of rage. Regrad, despite his age, managed to deflect each blow with the sides of his arms.

Finally, Jay managed to create an opening. He swung his fist with full strength at Regrad's head, aiming to shear it off at the neck, but Regrad used his opponent's force to his advantage, and struck his elbow into Jay's open face. Jay grabbed at his nose, teetered, and fell.

"The lesson here" said Regrad, as he helped Jay return to his feet "is that each of you has skill, strength, and talent already. What you need is practice, experience. Jay here is an impressive warrior, and is to be commended for his knowledge of combat technique, but experience teaches you more then that. It teaches you how to survive, how to win, not just fight. Strike first, strike last, and it doesn't matter how many strikes you land inbetween."

Jay nodded, calmed by the words of Regrad for now, and returned to the ranks of his fellow recruits.

"This facility is yours for now, there are various scenarios set up which I wish you to go through first, and once they are done you will be free to set up your own training simulations - just how you do that, you will have to agree amongst yourselves." Regrad then left the facility, as the hologram shifted into a recreation of the First Krakken IV war.

Yolem met him at the door. "Sir, are you absolutely sure that was wise? It is a risky business, putting a recruit down in front of his fellows."

Regrad shook his head "Do not worry so much, Yolem. It is far riskier sending them into combat before they are truly ready. We know they can fight, we want soldiers to learn how to fight, but we want these ones to know how to win."

The Knights were arrayed in an open theater, recently constructed. In the center of it stood Regrad, with a large holo-projector at his side.

"As knights" his voice boomed "It will be your responsibility to train, lead, and fight. Remember that you serve the people of the Coalition, they are not there to serve you. Your station will be high amongst the military, but do not think yourselves above it, nor greater then it. Matters of social ettiquete, rank, command, personal power and prestiege, these are the things that you should keep separate from yourself at all times, and focus on your calling: Defending this Coalition of free worlds."

Regrad tapped twice on the holo-projector. A three-dimensional image of the galaxy filled the darkened theater.

"But to do that, you need to know more about the galaxy that surrounds us."

Orange blips appeared, scattered across the image. The spaces inbetween filled with a haze, also of orange.

"This is what we know as Coalition Space. Each blip is a planet, aligned to the Coalition. With the exception of some planets - which lacked a population and thus any native owners - each one is it's own state, with it's own customs, beliefs, government structure, and so forth. And yet, despite this, they have united under a common banner, prepared to make exceptions and pay costs to be a part of a whole that is so diverse that they share almost nothing in common. What could possibly draw together such a different set of nations? Necessity? Conquest? Self-interest?"

Regrad looked out at the Knights, who represented every planet and race in the entire Coalition. Silence filled the hall, and no answer was forthcoming.

"Is there no one? Do none of you question why your people joined the Coalition?"

Finally, a tiny Bimm rose. Despite her size here, she would have been seen as towering on her homeworld. "I believe it is because of the Empire, sir, and the threat of conquest." There were the murmurs of discussion after that. Regrad paused to allow them to quiet down again before he continued.

"What is your name, miss?"

"Dolora Iani, sir." she said "Of Bimmisari."

Regrad smiled "Ah, miss Iani, you are half right. The Coalition exists because of the Empire, you say, because of the threat. But then, you must agree, that if the planets had simply joined the Empire, the threat would be gone. Indeed, banding together has made us a target, so why then was it done?"

"Defiance, sir." Dolora said, and her voice carried a surprising edge "The Empire is the enemy of the principle of freedom, and thus must be defied for the principle to survive."

Regrad nodded. "That is good. That is very good. And yet, you are still only half right, if you'll accept my apologies. For you see, I was present at the founding of the Coalition, and I have overseen each member joining. I have seen the heart of the Coalition, and I may now tell you. At it's core, the Coalition is the principle of freedom. Freedom is an ideal, an ideal of being free of that which shackles us. Freedom from want, freedom from fear, freedom from pain, manipulation, persecution. Freedom from fate itself.

"Of course, that is it in it's simplest form. Scholars and philosophers will try and define it further, but that is the core of what I want to defend - freeing people, and keeping them free of that which would encroach on them, use them, hurt them. This is what the Coalition is, it is the will of a handful of nations to - in the face of galactic adversity - bear the burden for others, so that one day all will be free.

"The only way to gain freedom is to substitute yourself for those who are not free, in one way or another. You must be willing to sacrifice yourself for those who revile you, suspect you, or will never even know of you in the hope that your sacrifice might one day grant them freedom. The Coalition consists of those willing to suffer in the present so that others will not in the future, and that is what I believe is the core of the Coalition. We do not fight the Empire because they are our enemy, the Empire fights us because we are theirs. There is a subtle difference there that you must grasp."

In the pause, Regrad tapped the holo-projector again. Like a black spider uncurling it's legs, tendrils of black extended in all directions from the center of the galaxy.

"This is the New Order, simply known as the Empire. Many of those beneath it's heel once knew freedom, or may have even been a part of the Coalition. One day, it is my hope that they will be free. Not simply free of the oppression of the government, or free of want and suffering, but free of their own fatal flaw. Free of themselves. Free of the system that continues to create it's own tyrants and places them above their own head. It is this hope you must carry into battle, and carry it to your fellow soldiers. You will one day probably have to fight the Empire in battle, and when you do, remember that the very people you fight are the ones you wish to be free. It will be hard, but it is vital."

The Knights were silence, the weight of these thoughts was significant. At last, Regrad tapped the holo-projector once more. The rest of the galaxy filled with a patchwork of different colours.

"This is the rest of the galaxy, proving that existance is not a monochrome of the free and the not-free. Through deeds on the battlefield, the whims of politics, and circumstance, it is possible that one day any of these people might be dominant, and any of them might ignore the principle of freedom altogether. It is not impossible to imagine a time where the Black Dragon Empire ruled the galaxy, and to them such things as freedom and control are insubstantial. In my mind, this is perhaps even worse, as it is harder to remove a force which doesn't even aknowledge or care for it's own evil acts.

"It is important, as you go forth, to remember these things. Do not forget why you fight, do not confuse why you fight. Do not become consumed with hate or rage, learn instead that you fight for others, you do what they cannot, what they should not have to do. It is for this that I founded the Knights, that you are here now. Know why you serve not just the people of the Coalition, but the people of the galaxy."

Regrad stood in the center of the holographic training room. He didn't flinch for the sound of the various recruits gathering around him, nor for the sight of them assuming various stances. From across the galaxy, there were so many fighting techniques and styles that it was impossible for a single person to know each one, or even be able to name each one.

Nevertheless, Regrad seemed calm as the recruits cautiously approached. Finally, one - a Quarren - dashed forwards to deliver a stinging back-hand slap. Regrad blocked, and the fight began.

The recruits swarmed him, but with speed Regrad grabbed the Quarren by his tentacled mouth and hurled him back into those that advanced. The first line collapsed and the group became a tumbled mess. Regrad charged into it's center - flinging them left and right, defeating graceful combat techniques with up-close tackles, hard kicks to the shin, and punishing head-butts.

The group was in disarray, but had no intent of falling back. For every recruit repulsed, two more filled the breach. Eventually however, the attack slackened. The dazed picked themselves up, and Regrad - although certainly breathless and bruised - still stood.

"You are improving, I see." he said "But you still have not learnt some of the key principles of battle. I am one, and you are many. It would seem that therefore you would have the advantage. Indeed, it is true that a sustained assault would eventually bring me down, but as you can see the damage I can inflict in such a time is devastating. You all have one target, wheras I see targets of you all. That means that I have more options, more weaknesses to exploit, more opportunities.

"The key to defeating me properly is not to overwhelm me - that will cost you too dearly. And this is the principle you must take into battle, do not become overconfident in numbers nor afraid when few. Battle, even in an era of city-razing bombs and planet-destroying battlestations, is still heavily reliant on the individual. A single person can succeed where an army of a million mightier warriors will fail."

Out of the panting recruits, one stepped forwards. Regrad saw that he was a Mon Calamari, but besides that little was known. "Sir, I am Ruuvan Morgesh. I understand you words, and I will face you."

Regrad smiled. "That is good. So you understand? You now believe you can defeat me? All right, we are half way there. Go ahead then, at-"

And with that, Ruuvan struck out, catching Regrad in the jaw. The hit was hard enough that Regrad spat out a drop of blood, and turned to his foe. "Good."

With that, the two began fighting. Regrad was a goliath in heigh compared to Ruuvan, but this turned out to be an advantage. The older and taller being's strikes were stronger, but slower, and Regrad soon found himself outmatched. Regrad was on the defensive, trying to anticipate Ruuvan's moves and counter, but his foe was wiley and kept moving, circling, striking quickly.

Finally, Regrad overextended himself when he saw an opening, and was tripped by Ruvan, who quickly planted his foot on Regrad's chest and pinned him to the floor. The silence in the chamber was somehow audiable, as Regrad rose slowly.

"Excellent, Ruuvan." he said. And with that, began to leave the chamber. Ruuvan seemed stunned, and suddenly ran after him.

"But sir, you... you are far more experienced then I am. And yet I saw you make mistakes, you didin't fight as well as..." Ruuvan stopped.

"I am not, in truth, a great warrior." said Regrad "I am perhaps a decent statesman, an adequete tactician, and an efficient fighter. But, in battle, I can make people believe I am great, and that turns out to make all the difference." He patted Ruuvan on the shoulder.

"But sir... What you said, about individuals, then what did you mean?"

Regrad sighed. "What you believed I meant, I meant that it is the individual who matters on the battlefield, not because the individual itself can tilt the scales, but because we still believe it can. Belief is the greatest weapon in a warrior's arsenal, it is one the Knights will have to master."

And with that, he left the chamber, the recruits watching him in silence and surprise.

Regrad and Yolem looked in from the observation room on the training center. A vast number of simulation pods filled it, and all of the thousands of recruits were within them. It had taken a serious effort to procure them, but Regrad had found a contractor on Azguard who was willing to create the batch in return for just enough to cover the expense of making them. There had been some definite patriotic pride there, and Regrad was glad for it.

Yolem, on the other hand, was more anxious, and made his concerns known to his superior. "Sir... I know you wish to test their piloting skills, but why start with this simulation? Would it not make more sense to build up to it? Some here served where you wish to send them, and it could cause... discomfort."

"Yolem, sometimes you must thrust yourself forwards, and sometimes you are thrust by others. The Knights must know how to deal with both, and survive. Ideal conditions are the enemy of invention, and surprise is the friend of innovation. Now begin the simulation."

Yolem nodded respectfully, and flipped a switch nearby. "It begins, sir."

The training center crackled and flickered for a moment, until space appeared before them.

"All right then" said Ruuvan, who found himself no longer in the training center, but on the bridge of a Star Destroyer. This was not too surprising, the Star Destroyer was a powerful model and the Coalition had access to it. "All ships in Watch Battlegroup angle yourself for incoming enemy fleet!"

Ruuvan looked at his view-screen, his group was made up of about a half-dozen star destroyers, some of which he didn't recognize. Then there were a few cruisers, and several hundred unusual little fighters. So, fighting with unfamiliar forces, a challenge.

He hurried to his command chair and seated himself. Those around him were mostly computer-generated simulations, but a few key officers here and there were fellow trainees. He nodded to them respectfully, and they nodded back. "I want everyone on full alert, this is a bit too convenient. We've got a load of forces here, so we better use them to best effect."

In truth, however, Ruuvan felt suspiscion welling up inside him. The circumstances were familiar, and that gave him cause to worry, but he pushed those concerns aside and stayed focused on the task at hand. "Open channels to the rest of the defence forces, I want to make sure we can coordinate."

Elsewhere, Jay familiarized himself with what he was given. "Ok, all forces, prepare for a frontal assault on our position. Battlegroup Anvil, we will hold the enemy lines!" His forces too, he saw, were of a kind he was not used to. Fifteen of what were labelled 'X Battle Cruisers' were under his command, but what they were was unknown. The read-out suggested powerful hand-to-hand forces were at his disposal, however, and he grinned at the opportunity.

"Ruuvan, is that you? You dog, you have some good ships and you've been put on 'watch'?" He chuckled over the channel, but it came out only as static.

"Keep your forces on alert, Jay. We don't want any distractions. If our intelligence is accurate, they'll have a lot of ships and they'll be dedicated at breaking your lines. We need to trap them."

"What do we know about their leader?" said Jay "Is he up to a good fight?"

"Hm... Looks pretty reckless. It's pretty sketchy info, but I wouldn't worry too much about any cunning tactics, just numbers. Stay alert."

Dolora was faced with an even more perplexing situation. It took a second for the holo-image to clarify before she realized just where she was. "Stealth ships..." she muttered. The design was completely unknown, probably some classified design kept in reserve by the Coalition. She looked at her readouts and grinned. A vast amount of power was available, however.

"I've never seen such complete cloaking! And the weaponry! Even the assault teams, I have no idea what they are but if the readouts are accurate they could tear a ship open."

Ruuvan crackled onto the comlink. "Dolora, what's your status?"

"Better then good, we've got a great deal of strength in these steath ships, I'll position them to make a run on the attackers."

"Don't get cocky, there's something I don't like about this..."

Three more battle-groups; TherGev, First Destroyers and Center-group, were incoming towards the conflict zone. They were allies, it appeared. Ruuvan realized quite suddenly that he was in command, and began acting like it. "All forces, prepare for enemy contacts. We have a group inbound, looks big. Have the Anvil hold position, and the rest of us will circle around."

Stacks of enemy ships flooded into view. They were of all sorts of classes, some familiar and some not. It was a motley but vast assortment, and Ruuvan found himself shocked at the size of it. As each appeared, they immeadietly began a direct run, heading for the Anvil and trying to pierce their lines to a planet they were meant to defend. The orders were simple - rout the enemy, defend the planet, minimize casualties.

"Combat groups, I want them to run a gaundlet on the way to Anvil. It appears they have four central command ships, and I want them disabled immeadietly!" At least those were recognizable, some form of massive star destroyers, except for one odd vessel. "It looks like they're blocking communications, continue with last orders!"

Beyond that, Ruuvan doubted he still could be heard by the other fleets. He cursed, and wathced as the battle unfolded. The enemy fleet was indeed heading in a straight line, en masse. The fighter screen was fairly ineffective, so Ruuvan made sure to remind his tactical officers to increase anti-fighter pressure. As all of his allied fleets arrived and got into position, trading fire with the attackers, he was shocked to see the enemy remain vigilantly attacking, despite the obvious trap they were entering.

Jay was amazed, but managed to keep that to himself as he relayed orders. "They're all heading straight for the Anvil! That's suicide, but they're doing it! Maintain the kill-zone between us and them for as long as possible, and fend off those fighers from the X-ships! We need those alive."

His comm crackled to life, and another knight - in the role of a fighter-captain - spoke to him "We're getting hell out here, Jay - I mean, sir - but it's really only coming from their command ships. The rest of the fleet would be easy pickings."

Jay nodded "I think we've got a plan, then..."

Dolora barely wanted to breathe as her ships slipped between the gaundlet of random fire. "We have our orders, wait until the shields go down..."

They kept their eyes focused on the Command ships, where her stealthed forces lingered. Finally, shield crackled and spaces appeared, spaces quickly exploited to get under the shields and next to the hull.

"Deploy our 'specialist combat squads' in the hanger bays, according to the plan, and prepare to toast the Command Ship's bridges on my command." she whispered, completely oblivious to the rows of guns that were blind to her passing. Her ships were of excellent quality, and passed undetected right up to the bridges of the Enemy command ships. It was almost too easy...

"Now!"

Blistering fire appeared from nowhere, bringing down and slaughtering command crews. In a flash, the four ships were robbed of command. Of course, Dolora had to cling to life to get out of the ensuring fusilade of fire that went her way, and not all of her ships made it. However, the specialists had been inserted.

On board the unusual ship, the squad of Knights charged forwards with imputy, cutting down anyone who stood between them and the life-support systems. The squad's captain felt exhilirated, for some reason the hologram had granted him ridiculous powers, and with a thought he could hurl enemies into walls or crush them from the inside out. He was amazed at the ease of their entry to the life-support units, with only the sparsest guards.

"Ok, upload the neurotoxins fast. Has everyone got their rebreathers?" His men nodded "Good. Get ready." In moments, the ship was filled with deadly gass, and was otherwise paralyzed.

The captain couldn't help but chuckle, a dark thought that terrified himself, and he quickly restored his composure. "Mission complete. This enemy command ship has been disabled."

Ruuvan watched with pride as the battle played out, the enemy fleet proving to be useless. Their reckless charge had put them right down the gaundlet that had been prepared, and sealed by Center-group and TherGev. Surrounded and robbed of their leadership and heavy guns, it was a massacare. Eventually, full transmission capabilities were even restored as jamming ships were brought down. And the four enemy command ships? They were now theirs for the taking, disabled.

"Congradulations, Knights, we did it!" He exclaimed, the adrenaline rush of victory kicking in. But before it could, an urgent beeping brought him back down.

"Sir, it appears we have a second contact - a second fleet arriving!"

"What?! A second fleet?"

And so it was. A second fleet, just as large as the first, appeared to one side. It was out of firing range, but could be on top of them fast. Ruuvan was just formulating how to best repeat their previous success, when he was interrupted again.

"Sir? It appears they're... hailing us."

"What? Er... well, bring them up on the monitor then. If they're not advancing, then tell our forces to regroup in case it's a feint."

The screen flickered to life, and Ruuvan saw the face of Regrad. "Ah, sir!" he said, and saluted to his superior by reflex. But then, he suddenly froze in place as he looked harder at Regrad. He had seen the exact image of Regrad wearing that particular uniform, with that particular look, once before. It had been all over the holonet, and Ruuvan suddenly felt cold chills.

"Imperials, I congradulate you on your most recent stratiegic victory, and I ask for a truce, to perhaps discuss a cease-fire agreement, or perhaps even a peace treaty, or at the very least recover our dead."

It had been one of the most shameful, glass-faced, painful lines Regrad had ever forced himself to say. It was on clear channels, and every Knight heard it. Every Imperial heard it. Ye Gods realized Ruuvan This is Corellia...

"End Simulation" muttered Regrad to Yolem, who dutifully switched off the system. Regrad, in silence, left the room.

Regrad looked out at the Academy's mess hall. The Knights seemed despondent, moving sluggishly about, and very little conversation was to be heard. Yolem politely stepped up next to him, and cleared his throat.

"Sir, spirits have been low since the... training exercise. Perhaps you should speak to them? Or take their minds off of it? It was rather a shock, sir."

Regrad nodded. "I think they've had long enough to reflect on it. But I still do not doubt the value of the lesson taught. There are things they must know, they must learn. Things I do not think can be taught through speech or instruction. Sometimes it is better to be more vivid, Yolem.

"Nevertheless, it is about time we turn their minds elsewhere. Call a general meeting of all Knights at the launch site. Oh, and have our recent shipment set up there. If nothing else, it should provide them with a distraction."

Ruuvan yanked back on the stick, but had to push forward almost immeadietly to keep himself from crashing into the fighter that had been tailing him. His failed loop meant the enemy was still tailing him. He cursed again at how slow he was learning to use a Kris.

"There are only a few Tie Defenders left, it looks like they're trying to escape." his comm unit had buzzed, but that didn't seem to do anything to dislodge the fighter that still doggedly chased Ruuvan across the battlefield.

"I could use some help here, this one won't budge." he said, as he was once again forced to turn hard to avoid barrages of laser-fire.

"We're coming, just hold on for a little longer."

Ruuvan suddenly heard the warning shriek that meant a missile was tailing him. At least this, he'd mastered. Looking at his forward screen and keeping his hand over the emergency shield switch, he waited for as long as possible before engaging.

A blue barrier temporarily washed over his entire fighter, causing the missile to swerve away and explode harmlessly. Ruuvan was safe for the moment, but the Tie was still tightly on his tail.

"Can't hold him for much longer, I really need some help over here." The Tie was shepherding him with it's guns, and he knew sooner or later he'd make a wrong turn into the deadly beams.

It was then that the Tie exploded in a flash of red and yellow. Ruuvan sighed with relief.

"Thanks guys. I guess that's the last of them-"

It was about then that an Imperial attack ship appeared suddenly from hyperspace. A Corellian Gunship. Ruuvan went cold - was a Kris's guns able to scratch it? No time to worry now.

"All fighters, form up. We have to go in fast to avoid it's guns, but I want limited barrages only - we need to see if our guns can even hurt it before we can attack, so no heroics."

The dozen Kris fighters reformed their formation, and hurtled through space as fast as their ships could go. They passed the Gunship at such a speed that they barely had time to squeeze off a single round. A round which, if the pings on the side of the Gunship were any indicator, was useless.

"Shit." cursed Ruuvan "Our guns just aren't strong enough to pierce capital-class hulls."

The Gunship was turning to fire, when suddenly what appeared to be a huge, solid ball shot through space and impacted into the front of the ship. It's bridge collapsed under the weight, and a sheath of energy surrounding the projectile exploded outwards, melting the armour and reducing the front half of the vessel to scrap. Finally, the ball of mass tore itself apart, leaving the Gunship ruined.

"What the hell was that?" said one Knight, who looked out at the wreckage.

"What the hell is that?" Replied Ruuvan, as an entirely unknown capital class ship zoomed into view.

"End simulation."

The Longsword

"The Longsword is a small capital-class ship, larger then a corvette and most frigates but still smaller then a ship-of-the-line. It has the capability to go on extended tours as well as the equipment for everything from a small skirmish to open warfare. It's primary weapons are the two cannons here - Particle Projector technology again, much like the guns on a Kris but on a massive scale."

Regrad stood in the open theater, pointing to a holographic image as the knights looked on.

"The Longsword has many purposes, but mainly it serves as support for larger vessels, firepower for smaller vessels, and generally is meant to fill any capacity where a larger ship would be inefficient yet strength is still needed to complete the task at hand.

"It can take ships, people, and supplies - and at a good pace, too - but it's main feature remains the two large guns on either side as well as it's improved thrusters. As an added tactical option are these boarding torpedoe tubes. Many would wonder why we would teach close combat on the modern battlefield, where a war can be fought with the two sides never meeting face to face, but the speed of the Longsword and the surprise of it's torpedoes is the answer.

"You will not be expected to master the Longsword, your place should not be in command of the tactical essence of a battle but aiding your fellow soldiers and pilots in winning it directly. But at the same time, it is vital that you know of the Longsword and are able to wield it - for if disaster strikes, your troops will look to you for the answer.

"There are regular shields, along with a kind of shield built around the pulse model used on the Kris. The thrusters allow for incredible speed, and the one on each 'wing' of the Longsword also give it amazingly accurate agility. In battle, a Longsword can launch off two of it's shells, turn, and be out of firing range before the enemy will have time to react."

"What about ammo? Not to mention energy concerns?" said one Knight.

"Not a problem. The Mass Projectors use a form of molecular condensing to allow for a large amount of ammo to be stored in a small space. As for power, there is an onboard reactor. In fact, that is one of the only weaknesses. If one of the two reactor stabalizers is fused, and the reactor becomes seriously damaged, it is possible it will explode - and destroy anything in the vicinity. This is very unlikely to occur, since the stabalizer would have to be melted but not blown up, and the reactor would have to be damaged but not destroyed and THEN pushed to capacity. A competent commander should know to switch stabalizers, or if necessary turn it off, if such a situation was to actually occur.

"This ship provides us with serious firepower in a small package, a chance to even the odds against a numeretically superior enemy. Effective use of a Longsword can confuse, disrupt, and devastate enemy forces, so keep that in mind when making decisions on the battlefield."

A small fleet was forming above the skies of Leritor. Waves of sleek Kris fighters flew proudly in formation, and Ruuvan beamed over his improved piloting skills. It had been difficult, but worthwhile, to relearn flying from within such an agile fighter. Several Longsword maneauvered into position around a small orbital station, and small maintenance ships and shuttles scurried through the intervening space.

It was their first actual space flight since the founding of the Knights, taking place near the end of their training to make sure the simulations had succeeded. Ruuvan marvelled as each fighter flew with astonishing precision, and he had to remind himself that these were the best of the best - it was to be expected.

But there was still something... missing.

Regrad looked out at space from his position on the orbital station, and nodded to Yolem. "Bring it in."

Yolem tapped a nearby comm unit, and the two waited. Quite suddenly, a long, almost oval or cylindrical ship appeared from hyperspace. With a blue blaze trailing in it's wake, it crossed the distance between the edge of the mass shadow and the center of the fleet in record-time. Like a shoal of fish, the Kris fighters reacted as one, pulling back and circling around, curiously, in tight circles about the new arrival.

Regrad picked up the comm unit. "Knights" he said "Allow me to introduce the Claymore."

The Claymore

"The Claymore is the new battleship of the Coalition, a brand-new design around which fleets are to be built. Over twice as fast as any other capital class ship of it's scale, it is also capable of unusually sharp manouvers for a ship of it's size and shape. This, like the Longsword and the Kris, is a ship of skill and precision - split-second timing and lightning reflexes are the key to it's effective use.

"As you can see, it mounts a pair of the Projectors used by the Longsword on two roving turrets, allowing it some close-range firepower, but it also relies heavily on the batteries of heavy guns and point-turrets that dot it's hull. It matches a Star Destroyer of comparable size for number of guns, as well as being outfitted with torpedoe tubes and the two Projectors.

"Like the two ships you have seen thus far, our main strategy is speed - to outmanouver and out-run the enemy is to be in control of the battle. This hasn't been without cost, however, for as you see the armour is hardly total. The Claymore doesn't react well to anything more then standard, ship-to-ship hits - a missile impact or internal explosion can be devastating. Ambushes must be escaped from quickly or else a moment's tardiness result in complete destruction. It also suffers from the same potential risk of a Longsword to explode if the reactor suffers just the right combination of problems.

"This is not to say it is vulnerable, however - far from it. It's shields are superb, and outfitted with more pulse technology. If the tide of battle is in your favour, it should be an easy job to ensure only a few hits ever land on the ship, and these are to be deflected by the shield. Speed and skill are, once again, the watchwords of survival, and the Claymore will demand great amounts of both from it's crew.

"It is a weapon of the modern battlefield - our modern battlefield, one where the size of a force is insignificant compared to the character of it's soldiers. To succeed, we must rely on these troops, and they will rely on you. Learn how to protect a Claymore, how to frighten off it's parasites and predators, and your forces will dominate. With this new fleet, and the new Knights to put it to use, we will once again have the chance to make a difference in the galaxy.

"This will probably be the last time we will meet like this. As you go out across space and return to your homeworlds or travel to other lands, you will train, protect, serve, fight, and sadly, often die. You have taken up a mantle greater than any would have the right to ask you to bear, and as such, we must remember this as the first and last great meeting of the Knights. Take heart, and know that despite the danger, your purpose lies not with we here, but with those out there - those who need your protection and your guidance, those who seek your strength and wisdom. Do not feel sad for those who will not be met again, for you all have your own part to play in this galaxy, and we must not now abandone our post when we are needed most.

"And so I say, go forth, serve with virtue and respect, honour the people who you defend, and fear not what lies ahead. Knights, dismissed!"

With that, Regrad looked out once more over the gleaming assembly of fighter craft, each one bearing a precious cargo for the people of the Coalition, who would never again sit before Regrad thusly. He bowed to them, and stepped away. "My part is done, for now."

The fighters broke out of formation, each setting coordinates for their own jump out of system. They became streaks of light for a glittering moment, before vanishing into the darkness. It went on until, at last, Regrad saw he was alone, and left.