One Year Ago... Eriadu

“And where do we stand? Coruscant has fallen, and the Republic is under assault from all sides. The Jutraalian Empire remains isolated, thrown into disarray by the abdication of Emperor Fearsons. The Galactic Defence Initiative is dead, and the Hapan Consortium cares not for the galaxy outside the borders of their precious space.” The figure sighed and leaned back in the large, black leather executive chair, exhausted. The last month had been a nightmare, and it was an ongoing one, at that.

“Dxun, I have no idea where I am, anymore.” The other figure, the cloaked shape of Dxun Isstal, turned. His face was gaunt, lined with age and fatigue. It had only been a year since Seti had last seen the former Supreme Commander… but it seemed a century. The man who had led the Galactic Defence Initiative to its final end had aged ten years in the past one; the effects of a lifetime surrounded by war and death had finally caught up to him. But his mind was, it seemed, still fresh. Presently, he nodded.

“The galaxy devours its own children, Seti. We come to the full circle. The Rebel Alliance smashed the Empire and took Coruscant away from them in rivers of their own blood. The Empire resurges, Seti. They emerge from the darkness and enter the spotlight. The Republic will fall.” The businessman gave a sad nod. He could analyze the situation, as any businessman could. But Dxun Isstal could, it seemed, see further than that. Behind the aged face and disgruntled exterior, rested a genius.
“And the Republic’s collapse will leave the galaxy in pieces. And who do you think will be left to pick up those pieces?” There was silence, save for the pounding of rain on the windows outside.

Now... Commenor
Headquarters Building - Lobby

The man made no pretence at being friendly. He stalked past two LFX Home Defence Corps. security officers without acknowledging their greetings, and entered the vast building that housed LFX Industrial’s galactic headquarters. Without saying a word, he pushed through the lines of people waiting in the lobby and approached one of the receptionists – a bubbly young Twi’lek girl with a blue tint to her skin.

“I have a message for Seti Ashar.” He announced shortly, his voice a mixture of anger and resignation.
“Okay. I’ll just need your name and a copy of the message.” The man said nothing, but slowly reached into the pocket of his trench coat and grasped something.

Then the lobby erupted into fire as the bomb strapped to the man’s chest exploded, rocking the monolithic headquarters of LFX Industrial.

Headquarters Building – Top Floor

"Who is left to pick up the pieces, Dxun? The galaxy has been turned completely upside down." Rain poured down from the black heavens once more, pounding against the windows of the newly reconstructed Commenor headquarters of LFX Industrial. It was as if, on the anniversary of the eve of the Great War, the gods had once more called on the storm clouds to deliver their unrelenting fury to the people of Commenor. Those who believed in signs of the Divine would surely have called this a True Sign: a thunderstorm that turned the sky dark in the wake of a terrible and devastating war.

Seti Ashar, CEO of LFX Industrial, was not one to believe in signs. To the most powerful businessman in the galaxy – indeed, one of the most powerful men, period, in the galaxy – the vast thunderstorm was only another phenomenon of nature. And, like others, he mused; it too would pass in good time.

Seti Ashar had survived, in his time, half a dozen horrendous wars. He had been born thirty years before the Galactic Civil War, the fight for freedom between the Rebel Alliance and the Galactic Empire, and had seen that conflict come to its shattering conclusion over the Sanctuary Moon of Endor. He had witnessed the bloody conflict between the New Order and the Rogue Empire, which shook the galaxy to its very bones as another armada rallied to destroy another Death Star – this time Imperial warships assaulting Chadd Fearsons’ terrible weapon. Seti Ashar had watched as the New Order then turned its back on the Galactic Defence Initiative – and with the aide of the former Rogue Empire, now the Jutraalian Empire – attacked without mercy that faction. That war had led to the rise of LFX Industrial, and the turning of the tide for the Winger Mining Corporation and the former Tholatin Republic. And Seti Ashar had seen the fall of the New Republic and the return of the Galactic Empire, with Daemon Hyfe at its head. He had seen the New Empire’s wilful slaughter of billions through the use of the Wrath virus, and the final, suicidal, attack on that Empire by the combined forces of the New Republic, the Empire, and the Rogue Jedi Order.

The last war had torn the galaxy apart. Nearly ten billion dead to the awful Wrath virus, hundreds of thousands more from the constant fight that had lasted a year before its shattering end at the Battle of Bastion. A battle that, in itself, cost more than two million lives to win. A battle that shattered three of the galaxy’s most powerful factions. A war that shattered the galaxy itself.

“We come to a full circle. The galaxy has seen the rise and fall of many empires. This is only history, repeating itself.” He thought, turning from the windows back to the desk that stretched across the room. Spread across it were half a dozen oversized datapads and a thermos of caf. The local time was 6:15 in the morning - an hour before most of the office’s usual staff were expected to arrive. Seti Ashar appreciated the silence in the early morning. He used the time to read the half dozen news spreads that appeared on the datapads. The man was somewhat of a legend among the rest of the Corporation. He was said to leave the office at midnight and arrive back again by 5:30 every morning, ready for another long day. There were few men – even the famed Seth Vinda – who could match the determination and strength of mind of Seti Ashar.

It was nearly nine o’clock when the first indication that something was wrong came from the lobby. The monitor droids alerted the CEO to a somewhat unruly man in the building’s lobby, pushing through people and finally coming to the reception desk.
“I have a message for Seti Ashar.” He heard him say. It struck the CEO as odd – most messages were delivered by computer, or by a registered courier. Only twice before had a man delivered messages straight to the receptionist, and neither had been good. The first time, the man had sprayed the lobby with blaster fire, killing three and wounding half a dozen before security personnel burst from their hiding places and cut him down. The second had released four grenades that turned out to be filled with a poisonous gas that was – just barely – pumped out in time by the building’s security systems. But this building – the new one – was vastly better defended, with auto blasters concealed in the ceilings and Home Defence Corps. Guards stationed on every floor. Still…
“Okay. I’ll just need your name and a copy of the message.” Hardly moving, the man reached into his pocket to pull something out.

Then there was a bright flash; a brief picture of an expanding fireball, and the cameras went dead. The explosion rocked the building, throwing people off their feet and shattering expensive equipment. Alarms began to blare across the complex, and security personnel were running about, securing windows and outside walls from further attack.

And outside, emergency vehicles were already arriving to tend to the wounded.
“Ton,” the CEO said coldly as his Chief Executor entered the room. “Find who did this, and why, and how I can hurt them.”

<tt>Acess Granted.

Welcome to LFX Industrial Record of Archives

[/i]...Loading...[/i]

...Accessing Matrix...

...Preparing Files...



Access: Operation Righteous Destiny

Preliminary Report: Operation Righteous Destiny moving ahead as planned. Some trouble in securing Target Amber. Little trouble elsewhere. Fleet A arrived at Target Gold.

End Report.

Acess: [/i]Target Nimbus[/i]

Planetary Data
True Name: Classified
Location: Classified
Type: B
Native Population: Unknown
Natural Resources: Abundant
Last Vessel to Visit Nimbus: Classified

Access: Target Gold

Planetary Data
True Name: Classified
Location: Classified
Type: A
Native Population: Unknown
Natural Resources: Abundant
Last Vessel to Visit Gold: Classified

Search: Righteous Destiny in relation to Target Nimbus

Search Complete. No results found. Please expand your search and try again.

Search: Righteous Destiny in relation to Target Gold

Search Complete. No results found. Please expand your search and try again.

Search: Military Operations in relation to Target Gold

Search Complete. One result found.

...Loading...

Security Alert... System Breach... System Breach... System-

</tt>

"Got him." Ton Karlos breathed, leaning back from the computer terminal and cracking his fingers. Behind him, with a worried frown on his face, Seti Ashar paced up and down the small room. He stopped and spun to face the Executor when he spoke.
"He's out of our system?" He asked, a smile creeping onto his face.
"He could get back in, in theory. But we've stepped up precautions on our computer systems, and I've just upgraded the entire network with a NetProtect Mark IV Encrypt System that should keep him out... for a little while." The CEO nodded. He wasn't aware of what exactly the NetProtext Mark IV Encypt System did to keep slicers out of their machines - but he did know from his sources that there was nothing better to do it with.

"Good. Did he find anything?"
"Only what I wanted him to find. Enough information to keep him interested in Righteous Destiny."
"Your giving him bait." The Executor nodded, smiling.
"I've fed him a few lines of information - a combination of the truth and stuff from old missions that we don't need. Some of it's even on public record."
"Good good. Do you have any idea who was behind the attacks on the building?"

The two men were currently holed up deep underground in the Nightfire installation after the attack on LFX HQ earlier in the week.

The operative turned back to the computer terminal and typed in a command, brining up a list of suspects involved in "Terrorist Activities Directed Against LFX Industrial". Clicking on one of them, he brought up a 3D image of the attacker.

"Fwan Jimbo, human, from Talus. Used to be a smuggler through Ord Mantell. His operation was shut down by LFX Industrial shortly before the war because he was smuggling weapons. Our weapons to other people. Some of those weapons ended up being used against us, including limited cloaking technology from a TIE Phantom.

"He disappeared for some time before last week, but record searches I've done show that he joined the Tomorrow Movement that helped to assault LFX Industrial during the war. He was probably involved in the battle that destroyed the Defiance - about a half a dozen ships there used the same style of tactics he used to when fighting pirates or running from authorities."

Seti nodded, his smile vanishing once again.

"He sounds like a skilled man. Why did he kill himself to strike back at us?"

The Executor shrugged.

"I don't know, sir. I don't know if we'll ever know."

<font color=yellow>


ORD MANTELL

THREE FIGURES LURKED IN THE SHADOWS AS THE COMPLEX WAS PLUNGED INTO DARKNESS. ONE, TALLER THAN THE OTHER TWO AND HOLDING A BLASTER RIFLE IN ONE HAND, LEANED AROUND THE CORNER AND MOTIONED TO THE OTHER TWO.
“I THINK IT’S CLEAR. LET’S GO-” HE WAS IMMEDIATELY PROVED WRONG AS A BLASTER BOLT IMPACTED ON THE WALL MERE CENTIMETERS FROM HIS HEAD, CAUSING HIM TO DUCK BACK AND BRING HIS BLASTER RIFLE AROUND. “PERHAPS NOT.” WITH GRIM DETERMINATION, HE LEANED ONLY HIS HEAD AROUND THE BEND AND POINTED HIS RIFLE IN THE GENERAL DIRECTION OF THE ENEMY AND PULLED THE TRIGGER THREE TIMES. A SCREAM LET HIM KNOW THAT AT LEAST ONE MAN HAD FALLEN – A SAVAGE SALVO OF RETURN FIRE TOLD HIM THAT THERE WERE SEVERAL MORE WAITING.

“SHIT.” HE SAID. “I THINK WE’RE STUCK-” HE WAS CUT OFF AS A SECOND FIGURE, A WOMAN, SQUIRMMED PAST HIM AND PULLED THE PIN ON A FLASH GRENADE.
“WHEN I SAY RUN,” SHE SAID. “RUN!” WITHOUT HESITATION, SHE YANKED OUT THE PIN AND THREW THE GRENADE, THEN SHOUTED “RUN!” AND DUCKED OUT, OPENING FIRE WITH TWO BLASTERS. THE OTHER TWO SCRAMBLED UP AND RAN, THE WOMAN FOLLOWING AT A TROT.
“GO, GO GO! THAT GRENADE WON’T DOWN THEM FOR LONG!”

RUNNING THROUGH THE DARKENED BUILDING, THE TRIO SEVERAL TIMES NEARLY TRIPPED OVER FALLEN COLLEAUGES AND ENEMIES. SOME BORE OBVIOUS SIGNS OF INFECTION FROM THE DREADED WRATH VIRUS – MOST OF THOSE WERE ENEMY SOLDIERS WHO HAD BROUGHT THE INFECTION TO ORD MANTELL. OTHERS HAD BEEN CUT DOWN BY BLASTER FIRE, HOLES BURNED THROUGH THEIR CLOTHS AND BODIES.

BEHIND THEM THE ENEMY SOLDIERS REAPPEARED, FIRING RED ENERGY BOLTS AT THE FLEEING FIGURES. THE SECOND MAN, LAGGING BEHIND SLIGHTLY, FELT A SUDDEN BLOW BETWEEN HIS BACK BONES, ALMOST AS HE HAD BEEN HIT THERE WITH A SLEDGEHAMMER. HE FELL WITH A GRUNT, AND THE WOMAN NEARLY STOPPED TO HELP BEFORE REALIZING HER OWN PERIL AND RUNNING ON, LEAVING HER FALLEN COMRADE TO DIE. THAT MAN BROUGHT HIS BLASTER AROUND ONE LAST TIME AND SHOT A VOLLEY OF SHOTS AT THE APPROACHING FIGURE, DOWNING TWO THAT HE SAW BEFORE HIS ACTION PROMPTED A RETURN SALVO THAT RIPPED THE AIR FROM HIS LUNGS. BUT HIS DEATH BROUGHT ENOUGH TIME –BARELY – FOR HIS COMRADES TO ROUND THE CORNER AND SLAM A SERIES OF BLAST DOORS SHUT BEHIND THEM.</font>

Balmorra

The man hunched over his desk, pecking away seemingly at random at his computer terminal keys. A frown creased his features as the same message flashed up on the screen.



Muttering under his breath, the man pushed his chair away from the terminal and picked up a simple paperback notebook and flipped it open. After a minute of searching, he came to the page he was looking for and carried the book carefully back to the computer terminal.

Sticking his tongue out between his teeth, he typed another line of code into the machine and, almost hesitantly, hit the return key. For the sixth time, the same message came up on his screen.



But this time, instead of glowing green letters on a backdrop of black, the letters were plastered over a logo – one that some would recognize as the old log of a now defunct government agency. Smiling, the man hit one more key, and the logo and the text faded away, replaced with a new line of text.



He typed another simple line into the computer, and smiled as the results filled the screen. Seems like the old dogs haven’t covered all their tracks. A few more short minutes of searching gave him his answer, and he smiled as the single word burned across the screen.

“Bespin. They’re on Bespin.”

Commenor

The damage inflicted on the lobby of the LFX Industrial headquarters building had been all but repaired. The original gold and sapphire emblem that had hung behind the main reception desk, destroyed in the blast, had been replaced with a near-exact replica. At this time of night the lobby was empty of all but a few visible security guards and a lone receptionist who greeted the two men cheerfully as they swept by her into the private turbolift.

“Do you have any idea what he wanted us for?” One asked, setting his briefcase down and checking his watch, irritated. “It’s not even four in the morning.”
“It must be something important, if the Boss made the trip from home this early.” The second replied, checking his own watch.
“You think it has anything to do with Destiny?”
“This early? It has to be about Righteous Destiny. But why it couldn’t wait until normal hours-” He was cut off as the lift came to a halt and the doors opened – not into a brightly lit corridor as most of the building’s turbolifts did, but into a dim expanse that was crowded with computer mainframes and terminals.

Already there were Seti Ashar and the Shadow Hand Chief Executor, a young man dressed in a sweeping grey trench coat.

“Gentlemen, thank you for coming on such short notice. I’m sorry to have called you out of bed, but this is of vital importance to the Corporation.” Ton Karlos began, leading the men around one of the hulking mainframes and to an active computer terminal surrounded by books and scattered disks.

“Two days ago, I embedded a series of files on the old Galactic Defence Initiative server. The idea was that a hacker – like the one that tried to get into our system some time ago – attempt to go through the ‘back door’ and get into our system via that old route. Naturally, it couldn’t truly happen, but I’ve fed our little friend enough information to convince him that we’re moving in on Bespin.”

There was a brief silence before one of the newcomers spoke up, his voice an octave higher than usual.

“You did what? If he lets it out… the entire operation could be jeopardized. Mr. Ashar, you let this man give away our secrets?”

“I have the utmost confidence in Mr. Karlos. He assured me that the operation would be a complete success. And, so far, it has.” Seti’s reply was slow and cool, almost scathingly so.

“Meaning?” The original critic said acidly, turning to the Executor.

“Meaning that my agents on Nimbus I have already identified and caught three agents of the Tomorrow organization that attempted to sabotage our efforts.” Ton replied evenly. “And, they assure me, there are many more neutralizations on the way.”

“We do protect our interests, Mr. Reynolds, as you should well know.” Seti piped in, smiling at the two men. “But I did ask you here for a reason. I’m afraid that, given recent circumstances, this really cannot wait.

"You see, while the three we caught had to travel to Bespin and were caught shortly after landing, it seems that Tomorrow had a man on Nimbus I, just a standard refuelling stop, so far as we can tell, so they didn’t seem to suspect anything before hand. But he detonated his freighter on the platform, and he took half a dozen private craft and a refuelling station out in the process.

"I want you two to travel to Bespin immediately and soothe things over with the Administration, work out a settlement and the like. You’ll be taking a load of fuel sufficient to replace what they lost, and some parts and labours, with you as a gesture of good will, as well. I want the both of you to ship out by noon today. I’ll assign a frigate as backup in case Tomorrow gets their hands on anything more substantial than a suicide freighter. Good luck."

Bespin – Three Days Later

His heels clicked on the bare steel walkway, his long legs carrying him towards the very centre of Nimbus I. Already there had been another attack; this one unpreventable by the agents of LFX Industrial stationed onboard the floating city. This time they had used a fightercraft and blown up one of the Tibanna Gas reprocessing plants, killing a dozen workers and sending that platform spiralling into Bespin’s turbulent core.

He arrived at the unmarked door and stopped. To all appearances it was just another unused utility room in Nimbus I’s unoccupied sections. Slipping a hand into the pocket of his long coat, he removed a single card and slipped it into the slot beside the door. A small panel popped open with a faint click and demanded a password, which he entered.

The door slid open without a sound, and shut again as soon as he was past. The interior of the room was bright, long and narrow and crowded with machinery. A section near the end was taken up by a holomap of the galaxy, gold dots representing systems controlled by the Corporation, green for friendly factions, red for enemies, and blue for unknown. Only a small portion of the upper portion was revealed, the rest clouded in a grey mist – the Unknown Regions.

Ripping his eyes from the map, he turned to the other two men present and nodded.
“How is it?” One asked, eyeing him nervously. The protection that they had offered on behalf of LFX Industrial had been broken, and this had not, thus far, gone well with the planet’s administration.
“Better.” The newcomer said, eyeing the other two. “But we should not be having this problem. This was supposed to be a clean operation.”

“Of course it was. But this… Tomorrow has more resources than we imagined. Didn’t your last report indicate that they have a cruiser lurking outside the system?” The man admitted the assertion with a nod.
“A Carrack-class Light Cruiser, yes. An old, decrepit, piece of salvage that would serve better on the scrap heap. But it was a cruiser, yes. The Erstwhile chased her away.” He set his briefcase down on the table and opened the lid.

“The latest dispatches from command are here, and the reports from the rest of our agents. Not surprisingly, the Boss wants us to stop this threat, and fast. We cannot afford to allow Bespin to fall away from the Corporation.” The two men nodded, and one of them took the briefcase and snapped it shut.

“Of course not.”
“And what will you be doing about it, Executor?” Ton Karlos merely shrugged and turned away.
“I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

<font size=1 color=gray>Welcome Unknown User

Please enter your username and password

User: TKarlos
Password: ********

Welcome Ton Karlos

What would you like to do?

Browse the Holonet | Check Messages | Send Messages | Journal | Exit

Browse the Holonet

Loading...

Where would you like to go?

VNN

Loading...

Welcome to VNN!

Please select a story:

Jutraalian Political Conference | Oseon Apartments: Grand Opening...

Jutraalian Political Conference

Loading...

Jutraalian Political Conference

Recently 'returned from the dead', Emperor Chadd Fearsons of the Jutraalian Empire, has declared an open invitation to a political conference on the world of Jutraal, formerly New Alderaan, surrendered some time ago by the Galactic Defence Initiative during the New Order's war with that faction.

Representitives from the Hapes Consortium, the Sovereign Chiss Empire, Tholatin Drive Yards, and LFX Industrial are said to present, and more are expected to arrive...

Exit

What would you like to do?

Browse the Holonet | Check Messages | Send Messages | Journal | Exit

Journal

Loading...

Authorization Required.

Please enter username and password.

Username: TKarlos
Password: ********

Loading...

Welcome, Ton Karlos.

What would you like to do?

Write Entry | Read Entry | Delete Entry

Write Entry

Loading...

Journal Entry 06096 TKarlos.

Have you ever wondered, why do you do it? Work all your life to support something that, really, can only ever lead to evil? As much as we try to keep that evil at bay, what we are doing in some way must contribute to that same evil. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, right?

I'm here trying to keep the bad guys from blowing this place up and killing innocents. Yet it is precisely because I'm here that they are trying to blow the place up and kill innocents.

So I am in some way responsible for that evil.

Maybe I'm just crazy.

Somehow, though, I think that these guys would be here anyway. Or, if not here, in a dark alley somewhere preying on innocent woman for their own sick pleasure. So maybe I'm only diverting evil from those unknown people onto these unknown people around me. Is that any less evil, though?

Or maybe I am diverting that evil, but I'm also trying to keep that diverted evil at bay. Maybe I'm a dam, holding back a flood of that evil from sweeping across the galaxy and engulfing us all?

Or maybe I'm just really, really, crazy. Maybe I have to have the biggest ego in the world to think that. I don't know. But I do know one thing: I am glad I'm here. Because, someone, somewhere, even if they don't know it, has a better life for it.

And I think that's entirely worthwhile.

End Entry.

Save?

Yes | No

Yes.

Saving...

What would you like to do?

Browse the Holonet | Check Messages | Send Messages | Journal | Exit

Exit.

Closing Applications...

Purging Records...

Shutting Down...

Good-bye.</font>

<font color=orange>Commenor was a beautiful world. Towering skyscrapers, rebuilt after the Great War, soared into the heavens, pillars of white that seemed to project an innocece, an auora of majesty, and an undying love of life.

In some ways, Commenor was far more the centre of the galaxy that Imperial Centre could hope to be. Where Coruscant had forests of steel gridwork and seas of polluted waste, Commenor had forests of tall trees, alive with the native chirps and calls of the animals, and seas of deep blue water that one could never truly appreciate.

Commenor held a majesty among the galaxy that was unimpeded by any. A wealthy world, it had ruled the galaxy for a brief time when all the worlds were thrown into chaos following the outbreak of the Wrath virus.

Now, rebuilt after months of the worst fighting seen in the history of the galaxy, Commenor's sparkling skyscapers were a beacon reaching into the sky, a mark of this world's pride and wealth. And with the return of Commenor came the return of another.

Commenor - One Week Ago

The second meeting of the Joint Council was held this time in the rebuilt headquarters of LFX Industrial, albiet in one of the secure conference rooms deep beneath the building.

Last to arrive was Seti Ashar, CEO and Chairman of the Board. A board that had, since their last meeting, been fully restored. He smiled as he took his seat at the head of the table and saw that not a single seat stood vacant - it was a good sign, a sign that all was going according to plan.

"Getlemen," he began. "It seems a great many things have changed since our last meeting." There was no murming of agreement, no noise whatsoever as the CEO stopped briefly and looked around the table. Each board member stared back, silent, waiting for the Chairman to continue. "I tolds you two months ago that a time would come when the New Republic and the Empire would fight. I'm afraid that I was wrong. As you all know, the New Republic is no more. Defeated by their own politicians, it would seem."

One of the board members closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. He had been privately rooting for the Republic - privately because it would be unbecoming of a Corporation to take sides.

"So where does this leave us, sir? Our plans to break the Bacta Cartel and the Tibanna Leauge-"
"Will, and are, going through as planned. The New Republic may have been the most efficent 'lightside' faction in our galaxy - a sad testement in itself - but it was far from the only one. A force will again rise to combat the Empire. Who, and when, and where, I cannot say. But the point remains, gentlemen, that our plan to bring about the dominance of galactic trade in this galaxy will continue."

This time there was murmers, both those of approval and disaproval. It was the unenviable position of Seti Ashar to have to hear all of those, and combat some of them. And that he would do.

"Later," he said, waving down the talking. "There are other pressing matters at hand. The recent attacks on both ourselves and our prospective allies, the raised security levels on this world, and the fact that the Republic's collapse leaves, at this moment, the Empire as the sole power in this galaxy."

"I am proposing, gentlemen, that I accept the invitation of Emperor Fearsons to visit Jutraal, and enlist the Jutraalian Empire as an ally of this Corporation in case of ...unfriendly... actions by those other groups in this galaxy."

There was a brief silence following the CEO's statement. All present remembered the betrayals of the Jutraalian Empire time and time again in the past. How Fearsons had turned against the New Order, twice at least, and against his other allies. How he had broken peace treaties and pacts without hesitance...

"Sir... are you sure it is ...wise... to venture to Jutraalian territory? Fearsons is a man known for his betrayals and sneak attacks, even under a guise of peace. He has done it before... what is to say he will not do so again?"

Seti inclined his head to face the man and nodded slightly.

"Nothing... there is nothing to say that Emperor Fearsons will not betray the galaxy again. But in all probibility... he will not. He knows that even LFX Industrial is, at this moment, vastly more powerful than he. He cannot aford, in this early stage, to strike out at us."

"Unless he has an agreement with another hostile faction. He could be leading us into a trap."

Seti was silent a moment as he considered this, then, finally, shrugged.

"It is a risk I think we must take. As an ally, the Jutraalian Empire may be infinitely valuable. As an enemy... well, they will not last as an enemy, I think."

He smiled and tapped a key on the table in front on him.

"I shall head out this week, then, for Jutraal."

Bespin

The soaring skyscrapers of Bespin’s Nimbus I glittered faintly as the final rays of sun dipped below the horizon, plunging the floating city in darkness. A darkness that was soon relieved by thousands of artificial glowlamps that sprung up down the city streets, creating an eerie, almost mystical, and somewhat romantic effect. This high in the atmosphere, even under Nimbus I’s magcon shield, it was cold after the sun went down, and so very few of the city’s inhabitants ventured out in the open at night. Those that did leave their homes this late, for the most part, travelled via the extensive system of indoor catwalks and corridors, moving from building to building without ever experiencing the outside. It was said that one could go for weeks without ever venturing outside the metal and glass superstructure of the floating city.

One of those that did leave the warmth and comfort of the Indoor Transportation Network that night was Ton Karlos. Dressed in a thick grey trench coat, as per usual, he the Shadow Hand Executor wandered the streets almost randomly, hands stuck in pockets, with a thin cigarette held clenched between his teeth. Not one to stay confined in tiny offices or even larger buildings, Ton Karlos preferred to be out in the open. Some of his best instincts had come to him in cases like these, and some of those had led to the neutralization of an enemy. It was, by Bespin’s usual standards, and abnormally warm night, and so there were more people in the streets than Ton had seen since his arrival on the city in the clouds. Lost in thought and paying little attention to where he was going, Ton soon found himself in a small TapCafe more than three kilometres from his office. The place was dark and cramped, with half a dozen booths stretched across the back wall, twice that many tables, and a bar that stretched the length of the place and partway down the third wall. It smelled of smoke, a hundred different species, and blood, and was by far the most repulsive place Ton had yet encountered on Bespin.

“Corellian Ale, Red, if you got it,” he said to the first barkeep he came to, a tall and muscular human with wavy black hair and a rough, almost chiselled-looking, face. A towel was draped over one shoulder, and he wore a big smile. The barkeep poured the drink and set the glass – remarkably, it was clean and marked with what must have been the TapCafe’s logo, a thundercloud with a bolt of lightning down the middle, and the words ‘Thunderbolt Pub’ identifying it beneath. He smiled and sipped at the ale thoughtfully, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray in front of him. Fishing in his pocket for a Cred Coin, Ton tossed one on the bar and smiled back.

“Say, sure is some strange things going on,” the bartender said, lifting the ashtray and scrubbing the bar beneath it with the cloth. “Weird things. Freighter exploding, Tibanna Plant blowing up… you heard about that stuff, man?” Ton was silent for a moment; long enough to draw another cigarette, light it up, and take a drag before nodding.

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I have. I’ve heard its some rogue group calling themselves Tomorrow. Just came in from Commenor, and the talk there is that Tomorrow is trying to hack into LFX Industrial.”
“Heh. I wonder what they’re doing here, eh?” The barkeep moved down the bar, scrubbing away at the rough, hewed surface in vain.

Ton drained the fiery Corellian Ale and walked towards the other end of the bar. The barkeep here was old, a smeared apron covering his protruding belly. What little hair he had left was grey, and he looked as if he had seen a lot more than most people do in a lifetime. More than was healthy, even. The Executor palmed a Cred Coin onto the flat top of the bar and smiled at him.

“Hey, friend, I’m looking for something. A little group they call ‘Tomorrow’. You know where I can find anything about these guys?” The old man set down the whiskey glass he had been cleaning and came around the bar, shaking his head.
“No, I never heard of no ‘Tomorrow’. What’s it to you?” Ton raised his hand and smiled.
“The question is, friend, what is it worth to you?” The man snatched the coin in a motion to fact to track, and smiled, revealing a mouth of decayed and rotting teeth.
“Maybe I know something. But it’s a bit hazy, you know. Just something I heard in passing back a couple of months…” Ton nodded happily and drew his blaster. Pressing it into the man’s fleshy stomach, he gave an even bigger grin and nodded.
“Yeah? Is this stuff worth your life, d’you think?” The fat bartender gave a gurgle and nodded, his eyes protruding from their sockets as the blaster dug deeper into his flesh and then was released.
“Good.” Ton holstered the weapon and dug into his pocket for another Cred Coin. “Why don’t you start by telling me what you know…”

Talorran

Hyperspace transitions were never as smooth as the engineers would wish. Years aboard capital combat starships had taught Trayden Locke that much. As long as time went on, he mused, the engineers would be desperate to find a solution for the 'problem' os shaky entry and exit. The Polemarch, however, liked the feeling. When aboard a ship, it was easy to forget that this was real - the stars, the ships, the lives, were all real. The rough transitions were proof that you were alive, a reminder that this was not just a game, but real life.

He smiled as the indicator reached zero, and the ship began to deaccelerate swiftly.

Two ships popped into realspace above the gas giant of Talorran, hulls glistening brightly in the sun that they appeared beside. Ordaned in a deep navy blue, with a gold diagnol running down each side. The unmistakable mark of the Union of Free Worlds Home Defence Corps. A scorpion, with tail poised to strike, completed the ensamble, set in the midst of the ship's hull in a deep scarlet. First Union Battle Group, Scorpion Fleet.

Trayden Locke, standing on the bridge of the foremost frigate Destiny smiled. It had been a lengthy journey through a dozen hyperspace jumps to reach Talorraan. All of their stops, save their first, had been deep in empty space, designed to throw off pursuit as the two frigates split up and came together once more, leaving a trail none could follow.

And for what? To come to Talorran with the ensign of the Union of Free Worlds flying, so to speak, announcing their presence for all the galaxy to see.

Nonetheless, it was good to see the real galaxy again. The sunlight streaming in through the foreward viewports was yet another reminder that the galaxy was real.

"Captain Smart," he said pleasently, "you have the bridge. I will be in my quarters." It was more a gesture of respect than anything else. Normally, the captain would guide the vessel in, under the watchful eye of a senior officer, should one happen to be aboard. But by leaving the bridge in the hands of Captain Smart, he gave the man, and his crew, the message that they head his trust, and he put his faith in them.

"Thank you, Polemarch," the captain gave the required salute, and walked slowly to the very front of the ship, so close to the transparisteel viewports that he could almost reach out and touch the stars. "Helm, three-quarters speed. Launch our escorts, forward screen. Contact the planetary authorities and inform them of our invitation. I'm sure they've been expecting us." He smiled.

"Welcome to Talorran."

Thyferra, Three Weeks Later

Somewhere far above, a single arrowhead profile cut through space, ordained like her partners at Talorran and Bespin in a deep blue with the standard gold lines running from stern to bow point.

The ship's presence in orbit had at first frightened the locals, bringing back memories of Ysanne Isard and the Star Destroyer Corruptor, as well of her other ships, including the massive Super Star Destroyer Lusankya. But by now the blue and gold warship was regarded with more respect that fright. Almost, a rightful guardian of the world of Thyferra. A protective force to replace the shattered Empire that had once called Thyferra one of their own.

A pair of TIE Defenders circled the ship on a lazy patrol, swinging in and out of the massive shadow created by the nearly kilometre-long warship. These fighters, like most in the Second Union Battle Group, were decorated with a simple gold line running straight done each side of their three wings, for a total of six. It was vaguely reminiscent of the old Imperial 181st TIE Interceptor squadron, commanded by the infamous Baron Soontir Fell.

And despite the golden line being only a mark of the Union Home Defence Corps. Fleet, it did not mean the pilots were any less able. In fact, the Union of Free Worlds spent more on their pilot training than either the Hapan Consortium did or the New Republic ever had. It was not an advertised fact, the skill of the Union fighter corps, and it came as a surprise to many that what was largely a Corporation could field such an awesome display of piloting skill. That had worked in their favour before, indeed.

These two fighters were flown by relatively new pilots, recent graduates from the training school located on Commenor Prime, one of the orbital shipyards stationed over the capital. And while they had graduated near the top of their class, they had never seen combat. It was somewhat of a bother to them, though few of the pilots had seen real conflict. For most, their 'veteran' status came from a few short scrapes with pirates or mercenaries while on escort duty.

"Hey, Thom. Is that freighter over there off course?" The first pilot, Black Seven, asked over the com. "Maybe we should check it out." The other pilot laughed.
"A freighter off course, Seven? Call in the cavalry, this could mean trouble."
"Shut up, Thom."
"No, really. We should investigate. Could be some drug smugglers, or they could be bringing in weapons, or-"
"Shut up, Thom." Thom started to reply, but was interrupted by a com signal from the VSD.
"Black Seven, Black Eight, you are clear to do a flyby of the freighter Double X. Have a good time." The bridge officer signed off, chuckling.

Thyferra, Xuphra City

Thyferra, unlike the other worlds targeted by the Righteous Destiny operation, is not a gas giant. Nor was it a producer of Tibanna Gas. Thyferra is, in all truth, not a special world. Of average size and average growth, Thyferra is certainly somewhat more humid than other worlds like it, but there is nothing predominatly powerful about it.

Except, of course, that it is responsible for producing 98% of the galaxy's Bacta. Which is why, in its history, it had been targeted time and time again by a half a dozen separate governments. After the days of Palpatine's Empire, Thyferra made billions selling Bacta to both sides. Then along came Ysanna Isard, and seized control. And following her route, the planet fell to the New Republic, who in turn let it slide, unnoticed, into the hands of Aldaric Cronus and Cryonics Industries. A planet, perhaps, with a torrid past and both a love, and hate, for fighting.

The capital city of Thyferra, named for the dominant family of the all-encompassing Bacta Cartel, shared none of Commonia's rare beauty. The city of Xuphra was dirty, not unlike Coruscant. It was not, as Commonia was, a city designed to impress visitors with its splendor, but a city designed to be as efficient as possible. Starships could be seen erupting into the sky at all hours, freighters and private ships and a massive number of Bacta haulers from Xuphra North, the private launch facility of Xuphra Family's specialty launch vehicles that hauled the precious Bacta up to the waiting tankers. Tankers that would then haul that Bacta to a million locations amongst the stars.

It had, in the past, proven to be one of the most profitable business ventures in the galaxy. Thus, Cryonics Industries involvement, and the Empire's involvement. And now, the involvement of LFX Industrial. It had been debated for many a long hour within the conference halls of their Commenor headquarters, the ability of a struggling Corporation to rise from the ashes and seize three worlds in one not-so-foul swoop. But, walking slowly through the corridors of the temporary LFX Industrial headquarters building on Thyferra's surface, Seti Ashar realized for the first time that they had done.

They'd done it, God damn it!

There had been barriers on that road - the Tomorrow Organization's terrorist attacks, the disappearance of a convoy working for the Corporation en-route to Bespin only yesterday...

But those problems had been handled by the others in the Corporation. Trayden Locke, the Polemarch of the Fleet elected in the days following the outbreak of the war and the disappearance of Lord Protector Hiram Drayson in a scandal with the New Republic fleet, had handled a series of imposing fleet problems with a cool ease, and had maintained supply lines between all four planets with only the one incident as a mark against him.

And the Tomorrow loyalists had been hunted around the clock by the Chief Executor of the mysterious Shadow Hand - a part of the government that had existed since, or maybe even before, the days of the Galactic Defence Initiative and had stayed shrouded in fog since then. Considering this, Seti decided, he would probably rather not know all of what went on with Ton Karlos and his Shadowed Hand.

And aside from some minor problems posed by renegade officials and Tomorrow, the Righteous Destiny operation had gone off smoothly. In fact, some would say, far more smoothly than was normal for this kind of thing. It was rare that anyone had seen such a major maneuver go off so easily. But then, it was rare that anyone was privy to an all-out, no-holds-barred operation conducted by the Union of Free Worlds and their Corporate Agency.
* * *


Flanking the entrance to the temporary headquarters of LFX Industrial were two Union Guards, imposing figures dressed in the dark, thankfully cooled, armour suits of blue and gold. These guards were, like any other of their kind, the best of the best, though in actuality they rarely were forced into open combat. Rather, they were a ceremonial type, not unlike the old Royal Sovereign Protectors, guardians of Emperor Palpatine.

Seti Ashar passed between the two without any acknowledgment on either side. That was, as it always had been, the way of things. The guards had their jobs, and Seti Ashar had his. Besides, he thought as he entered the vast lobby, these two were like any others. Training could not relieve boredom - in all likelihood, they were playing old hologames in voice-only through their headsets.

He briefly entertained the thought of activating his own com, listening in, and then rebuking them, but dismissed it equally fast. They had to be entertained somehow, and games like Quadrant were only improving their memory and reactions. There was nothing wrong with having a little fun on the job.

All thoughts of the Union Guards had been pushed out his mind by the time he entered the lift - still alone - to the office of the Director; the highest ranking Corporate Employee on the surface save for the CEO himself, and the overseer of all the day to day activities of Thyferra. Unlike those Corporations that kept a planetary government under their fingers in the most unnatural of ways - bribery, murder, extortion, and the like - LFX Industrial had never held such methods in any regard. Not for taking a planet, anyway...

The theory behind control of Thyferra, as well as Bespin, Taloraan, and even Commenor, was that a populance would strive to support a government that aided them. And so, by investing in the planet's own welfare, the Union of Free Worlds was able to put Thyferra'a entire government inside the Union - that is, Thyferra would willingly sign itself onto the Union, and keep their own government agencies as they saw fit. And LFX Industrial would take control of the production, sale, and distribution, of Bacta. And defend the world from outside attacks, of course. And unlike other Corporations, the theory behind the control of Thyferra worked. It had been proven before, at Questal and Garos IV, and it had proven to work again at Thyferra, and Bespin, and Taloraan.

The lift doors opened silently, admitting Seti Ashar to the top floor of the LFX headquarters building. This office, like the Power Office of the main headquarters on Commenor, spanned across the circular top floor. Reinforced transparisteel walls surrounded the room, though at the moment several were closed off with their durasteel shutters. A massive room, designed to impress visitors and wow planetary officials. And again, this theory had worked well in the past and present, and would do so in the future as well.

The Director, a balding man named Jefferson, rose from his desk at the other end of the room as the lift chimed and revealed the CEO. Seti gave the man a nod and started forward, stopping only as he reached the monolithic desk and reaching across it to the shake the man's hand.
"Mr. Ashar," the Director said, "welcome to Thyferra, sir. You had a good trip, I trust?"
"Well enough, Mr. Jefferson." Seti said, sitting on one of the overlarge chairs in front of the desk. "You have succeeded in your mission?" The man gave a happy nod.
"I have, indeed, sir. Thyferra's government has been adopted into the Union of Free Worlds without hindrance, they're finalizing some things now. Laws that need to be worked out, some conflicting items, nothing out of the ordinary." Seti nodded. Things had been the same on Bespin and Taloraan, both of which he had visited recently. All in all, so far, a flawless move into the Union on all three fronts.
"I'd say that it is time we celebrate, Mr. Jefferson," he said. "There is a great deal to be happy for."