A rapping that echoed throughout the council room echoed and reverberated from the acoustical walls as the emperor's fingers continued to tap rythmatically against his throne. Gowned in only the finest shimmersilk of ebon he was truly a sight to see for all those around him, but his contorted expression was not. Looking as thought it had gotten lost somewhere between anger and grief his face was no horribly flunctuated.

The War Council had been quiet for quite some time now, simply awaiting the order from Fearsons for a missile strike. The several councilman had assured him they could get a Redemption-Class Battlecruiser into Ossus, strike several key parts, and be out in no time. So far there was only one pressing issue. They wanted an orbital nuclear strike, no doubt at all it would utterly crush the new forces there, but what of those left inhabiting there? Just because these "Chiss" had taken the planet that did not mean that the civilians had up and left, or that they had the option to.

But then there was the other pressing issue, the policy that Rogue Imperial Nuclear Warheads would never touch friendly soil unless ultimately voted by the council and deemed essential. The emperor was tempted to do so, but when he weighed the consequences of the action he simply could not go through with it.

"My lord we can stop this invader in his tracks," Councilman Yeletti pled. He had been recruited from Averam after the liberation there and so far the emperor had found him to be a double-edged sword; a genious with no sense of honor.

"I have to disagree, he still has a fleet we need to worry about, even if we crush his ground force we still have their naval reprisal to worry about. Judging by how widespread our forces are now trying to keep out the new Sith-Empire Pact, we can't handle their retaliation," Councilman Vtaul countered, his eyes gazing individually at everyone in the room.

"Vtaul are you forgetting we have the single strongest fleet in the galaxy? What's a group of Star Destroyers to save everyone else the despair of Ossus?" Council Kreed of Chandrila asked with a hint of boastfulness. Fearsons wanted to reprimand him for such arrogant words, but he restrained himself.

The room suddenly went into an uproar of debates and cries, causing the already strained emperor's headache to escalate from before. When it got to the point where he simply could not take it any more he suddenly used the Force to suck the oxygen from the room. Without air there would be no sound. At last, he thought. Silence.

When the air returned all eyes were on him, he rarely used his jedi arts in front of others unless he needed to get their attention or say something.

"Are we forgetting the moral dilemna here?" he asked, the venom in his voice taking back most of the councilman. "It is a moral obligation of us not to attack. There are innocents there that have done quite literally nothing and you want to end their lives in a chance that we might get lucky and hit their strongholds."

"The emperor is right, and what of the diplomatic debacle that would come from this? The Republic and Rogue Jedi Order would be up in arms over such a matter," Yaletti reasoned. "Firing nuclear missiles on another's soil is about as bad as firing it on our own. They would surely be out for our blood."

While Yaletti had a point the emperor was hoping the point for not administering the attack would more derive from the fact that it was murder...but if this deterred them then oh well. The diplomatic peril it was.

Of course he was right. To initiate an unforewarned nuclear strike on a capital, even if it was conquered, would inflame the the former governments even if the attacker did have good intentions. It was political suicide, the emperor would be hated by all his own people even.

"My vote stands," he finally said, in unison with his opening eyelids. "We will not administer Operation: Ossan Gem. Got it? The Sith destroyed that planet once, we don't need to do it again. We're supposed to be setting an example for the galaxy as the major sovereignty, not blowing up its capitals because we don't want to get our hands dirty."

"Perhaps we can maintain neutrality my lord?" another of the newer councilman, one who's name eluded the emperor, asked calmly. The very thought was absurd and it showed on the lord's face. He gave an icey glare, as if he should never have even thought such a thing.

"Contact the OOS and tell them we need a new offensive strategy," he said, waving his hand as if in dismissal. The OOS was the Office of Offensive Situations. Based on Averam they administered all offensives of the Rogue Empire and had suggested this very strike. "Maybe we can hit their fleet with Angel Missiles."

The room suddenly went silent. Angel Missiles, manufactured on Yaga Minor and allowed to be carried only by the Victory-Class Star Destroyer Red Dog, were so brutal and so wickedly deadly they had only been used twice in history; against the Chimerans and against the Archammer as last ditch manuevers. While still in full production, the emperor had limited their use severely.

"But sir," Yaletti intervened, "you refuse to use nuclear warheads, but you'd switch to the Angel Virus?"

"The Angel Virus can be contained onto enemy fleets, I am not going to use it on the ground. Remember we haven't tested it on the ground yet," the emperor forewarned. That wasn't entirely true. There was an instance where the Angel Virus was used on a terrorist faction in the Dentmala System, thus proving that it was effective inside an atmosphere. "Submit the data to the OOS and see what they have to say about it. When we get it back we'll vote. Agreed?"

Around the table there was merely an awed nod of the men's heads.

"Ok then, meeting adjourned."







"How did it go?" Arai asked, trying futiley to make conversation with her father. She took his arm as they began walking down one of the many criss-crossing sections of the palace, her eyes watching the red and gold carpet they treaded on. Only recently had she been returned to him after the debacle with the Dark Lord of the Sith and their relationship still had not remedied.

The emperor remained silent to her question, and though she sighed sadly he was not dubious toward her or her question in any manner. He was frustrated, he had a headache, and he had work to do. Between the politics of the situation and the sheer moral demands of one's self he was torn between two seperate entities: Emperor Fearsons the living being or Emperor Fearsons the cold, hard emperor who needed something done.

He preferred the latter.

After a few more moments of simple walking he finally spoke up. "They wanted to nuke Ossus," he finally told her. Arai's eyes went wide with apparent horror, even she would not consider such a thing, not of Ossus, not of anything under allied or mostly even enemied jurisdiction. He had been so tight-lipped about Operation: Ossan Gem for the past few weeks she was both glad and distraught to finally get details of it.

"What was the outcome of the vote?" she demanded, dreading her father's next words. He wouldn't she thought to herself, more hoping than stating.

"I overruled it, I have moral obligations along with royal you know," he said with a feigned smile, but it was enough for her. She nodded and they continued down the halls, silent to their next destination.

Chimaera II, Ossus System

With his stiff military posture, Baron Soontir Fel strode into Grand Admiral Thrawn's private chambers on board the Chimaera II. The room was bathed in it's typical darkness, as Thrawn gazed upon several magnificent pieces of art. Holograms, of course, floating upon display stands which were, in fact, holoprojectors. Were the Admiral viewing them for leisure, that would give the art something of a hollow, meaningless value.

But for Grand Admiral Thrawn, "leisure" was a foreign concept. 'Greetings, General Fel!' Thrawn said, flicking the lights back on, vanishing the holograms. 'Welcome.'

"Thank you, sir." Fel said. "It is good to see you... alive. And breathing."

'Need I remind you that it was you who found Xireon and the Blade of Klain?' Thrawn asked, chuckling. 'I have no one but you to thank, my dear Baron.'

Fel shrugged, sitting respectfully in one of the chairs opposite Thrawn's desk. "I was saddened to hear of Captain Heirel's passing, sir. He was a good man..."

'I'll not argue with you, there.' Thrawn said, sighing slightly. 'And it was, indeed, a shame. One which prompted me to contact you.'

Fel raised an eyebrow.

'I need you out here, on the front lines, with me.' Thrawn explained, chuckling. 'That art was of Etti IV origins. Made only, as you saw, of the finest materials, studded with the finest gems. Glistening from every angle.'

Fel nodded, understanding that this was not idle conversation, but the Admiral planning his next assault. "Isn't that typical, though?"

Thrawn shrugged. 'Somewhat. But in these, the elegant materials were featured prominently; the beauty lay not in the sculpture itself, but in the materials from which it was created.'

"Those in the Corporate Sector do not favour excellent planning or strategy, but superior resources?" Fel finished, somewhat acquainted with how Thrawn deduced the mindset of the people he planned against. "Correct?"

'Correct.' Thrawn said, smiling. 'But there is one, General Fel, for which I cannot lay such careful plans.'

"Whom?"

'Jiren.' Thrawn said, his smile not fading. Could it be, that the rogue had earned even a small amount of Thrawn's respect?

Fel took a deep breath. "It was unfortunate, that he escaped from Ossus."

'Indeed. And I accept responsibility for that, though it changes nothing.' Thrawn locked stares with Fel. 'The only thing which may come from it, is that I learn from my mistakes. I underestimated Jiren and his allies once; I'll never do it again.' He pressed one of the small buttons on his desk, projecting a galactic map onto the screen. 'Display from the Exocron System to three systems past the Empire-Rogue Jedi border, with that line as the diagonal bisection of what is displayed.'

The map complied, zooming in. "Jiren's last known positions." Fel said, nodding.

'Yes. As you can see, he was spotted in the Xecoron system, Exocron Sector. At about that time, his ship was spotted here, then here, then here.' Thrawn said, pointing. 'A little far from their leader, don't you think?'

"A lot. But they weren't moving much... waiting for him."

'My deduction, also. 7200 hours ago, it was spotted here.' Thrawn said, pointing to a system, a sizable distance from the others. 'Jiren has rejoined with them.'

"A safe assumption." Fel agreed. "Which means it was his idea to move to Imperial space." Fel frowned. "I don't understand... I served with the Empire for a long time. They won't accept Jiren as their own, regardless of situation. Gilad Pellaeon was a one-in-a-million rebel sympathizer, and even then, he only lent support to the Republic in their most dire hour."

'I cannot help but agree.' Thrawn replied. 'But, we will look further into this. For while I have Imperial art, and Ossan art, Jiren collaborating with the Imperials is a bleak prospect, indeed.

<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Kamon snarled.<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->

"Don't you ever do that again Corran. I take it personally when people do unnecessary damage to a living thing. Do you understand?"<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Kamon said.<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->

"Yes, sir."<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Corran replied.<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->

<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Kamon haltered his lightsaber, and motioned Corran to follow him. He led Corran through the forest outside of the training grounds. They passed the ruins of the original Jedi Temple on the planet. It was covered in vines, and other growth.<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->

<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> They passed the area where the new Rogue Jedi Order temple was being built. Soon enough, they entered Kamon's palace, and walked into Kamon's office. Kamon motioned for Corran to sit down.<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->

"Yes, Corran. I did ask you to come here. I want you to come with me to Hapes. The Force brought me a vision of what may happen to the planet, and it is bad. I believe that if we go there, we may be able to stop this terrible tragedy from happening. So, will you go with me?"<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Kamon asked as he sat back in his chair.<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Corran leaned back in his chair.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

"First of all a couple of questions. Why me? And why do you think we could stop it. If it's as importanat as you say it is then it's very unlikely that only 1 knight and 1 almost knight could stop it." said Corran.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Dakkon looked up as the Young Lieutenant strode calmly into the room. Placing a holodisc on the Princes Desk, he walked out without a word.

Dakkon barely noticed. His mind was focused on the view of his office outside the space station. Out there sat the remains of the once proud Hapan Fleet. They were milling about in confusion even now, almost a week after their fighting retreat. They lacked the morale to find their orders, let alone defend the planet. At current, they were floating targets.

Picking up the disc, he slotted it into the proper port, a slight humming noise the only sound. Suddenly the Cheif Quartermaster appeared infront of him.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

"Sir, reports show we have been reduced to 192 ships. All severely damaged. We have had no reports of any ships other than those last Darkstars escaping. No reports from any of the transports either..."

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> The Quartermaster droned on and on, Dakkon lost in thought. The Quartermaster may believe all those tranports were lost, but Brinsk and Sterik wouldn't have fallen that easily...

He just had to wait for them to contact him...<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Somewhere, across the Galaxy...<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->

"Colonel Brinsk? We are entering the system. Gash Jirens Dreadnaught is in sight."

"Excellent, let them know we are here..."

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> The transportship was almost out of supplies. Packed with refugees, troops and pilots, the rations were coming close to nought. After the proper authorisations went through, the transport docked up next to the Dread.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

"Sterik, lets go see what kind of welcome we get..."

<!--EZCODE BOLD START--> Imperial Space<!--EZCODE BOLD END-->



General Simon Kaine watched the replay of Grand Ad-..

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> No! Just Thrawn. His accolade is undeserved now, the treacherous @#%$!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

-Thrawn's conquest of Ossus.


The planning room aboard the Galactus was filled to capacity as Kaine's section heads all reviewed the scanning logs of the small Imperial taskforce that had been in the middle of it.


The projection stopped as Kaine began to point to areas surrounding the RJO planet. Former RJO for now it was merely a ghost of it's former self.


"As you can see clearly, Thrawn's forces tightened their net here and here which allowed easier planetary signal corruption and interception. It also gave their gunnery crews time to track and target massive amounts of asset movements."


"Sir? So if he bottled up the planet, how can he be said to make a mistake?"


"Because there was no clear outlined goal in this action. Had Thrawn thought about the consequences, he'd not have allowed an enemy fleet to remain on his flank. While he was victorious, it was not his usual thoroughness that our annals sing songs about."

Kaine looked at his men. "Thrawn was toying with his prey. And such a lack of respect breeds contempt, and contempt makes people underestimate their enemies."

"But ..but these are Chiss.."


"So?" Kaine asked surprised. "We've beaten Chiss before. They bleed like everyone else."

"General? What is the word from the Imperial High Command?"

"Hold. General Ming's forces on Carida are gathering. He and Grand Admiral Hyfe have been sent copies of the action at Ossus for continued study and forward to Command."

"And the Vice Admiral?"

"Vice Admiral Drakiss is a week away."

"We are on our own for now."

"But Sir? The <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Galactus<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> and three escorts? What good is that against..against?"

Kaine grinned.

"You'll see, soldier. The <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Virtue<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> will be arriving at our location soon. The cargo they are delivering is important. Very important."

"There is news that the alien NR Fleet Commander is on the move."

"Treat everything that comes from that part of space as suspect."

"Yes Sir. What about forces under Gash Jiren gathering, here." an older Major had risen and pointed to a bleak area of space.

Kaine smiled grimly. "By retreating as he did, he draws the Imperials into his war by default."

"Sir? Isn't it our war too? He attacked the Empire."


"For which the Chiss will pay..dearly. The choice is gentlemen, do we fight along side the devil that will hurt us later against the devil that would hurt us now?"

"Do we have a choice?"

"Of course, we could run our ships into the Republic now crush the backbone of whatever fleet they have left while it flounders in political turmoil. The downside is we weaken ourselves before an agressive enemy."


"General? Why did he do it?"


Kaine sighed. "Attack us? When a soldier gets old, sometimes he tends to wish for immediate victories. Impatience, Captain. Impatience. Given his reputation for planning, it is a surprising move, attacking all at once."

"He must be confident."

"Captain, history shows every soldier who adopted that strategy has lost. Thrawn may catch us unaware. Thrawn may play with us...and even win a few battles. But there is one thing Thrawn cannot overcome...and that, men, is .. history."


"Dismissed. Attend your stations and be prepared to move out to our border. All decks to be at battle alert from now on."


As the soldiers filed out, Kaine went to replay the Ossus action, his eyes narrowing.


<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> ..Thrawn cannot overcome history. He cannot. Of course, if anyone could.. it'd be him.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->


The projection stopped once more as Kaine muttered, "Not if I have anything to say about it."

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Oh yes, the Chiss will pay!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

Chimaera II, Mon Calamari System

The Mon Calamari.

An infamous species, to say the least. A constant force of good, of freedom, of the Republic. Thrawn, having fought to protect others -- even his own people, though they exiled him -- could respect that. Respect them. Despite their peaceful nature, the Mon Calamari had taken up arms against those who would oppress them; that wretched human Emperor, bastard son of the Dark Side.

Thrawn smiled.

Today, the Mon Calamari would taste true liberation. Liberation from the corrupt human domination they knew, that cursed Republic run by a neglectful human woman whose only concern was the furtherment of her own petty Jedi Order, a group just as pointless and useless as the Rogue Jedi Order.

Thrawn contemplated all this silently, in his strategic command quarters, staring at the map of the Mon Calamari system. Before them, loomed the great blue world which was the homeworld of the fish-like shipbuilders. A voice spoke up, tentatively, on the table's communications link. 'Admiral?'

"Yes, General Fel?"

'We have the Calamari government on commlink. They...' Fel's voice trailed off, halfway between amusement and severity. '...seem to be begging mercy, sir. We've caught them off guard.'

"Or so it would seem."

'Sir?'

"Perhaps our Contact has afforded Xylon Hexyra a degree of freedom we had not anticipated. Target something on the ground -- something floating. Military, something which will cause as few casualties as possible, and fire three blasts into it." Thrawn said, glaring out the viewport at the coniving planet below. Hexyra was up to something.

'Yes, sir.'

Three green blasts leapt out from the Star Destroyer, blazing unerringly at the surface of the planet. Far below, unseen, they struck a starfighter command base, floating on the surface of the enormous ocean that was Mon Calamari. 'Done, sir.'

"Now, inform our friends that whatever Supreme Chancellor Hexyra has instructed them to do will not save them from our wrath. We are willing to spare them; but we are also not prepared to be hoodwinked in one of the Chancellor's plans."

'As you wish, sir.'

Thrawn sighed. "Now, we must hope Brel carries out his end of the bargain..."

Spaceport District, Tocan City, Hapes

Kasien entered the spaceport quietly, staying to the shadows, skulking behind what spacecraft he could. One thing that Kasien had discovered in his years as an intelligence operative was that criminal communities always revolved around the spaceport; and from what he'd seen, Musaile's contacts on Hapes were primarily of the criminal variety.

He swept into the primary control tower, from which all outbound craft were controlled. The lock gave way easily to his NRI issued keycard, and, blaster in hand, Kasien made his way down the hall in total stealth. Step by step, making no noise, he avoided the notice of a single space traffic control officer, as the man entered one of the communications rooms. Carelessly, the man pushed the door close behind him, letting the metal port move slowly. Kasien moved toward it, holding it open, slipping inside...

Tocan City, Hapes

Tilaric Brel, former Imperial Guard, reclined the the dark, cool room. He glanced out the window, into the warm Hapes midday, smiling slightly. The sacrifice of a single contact in this covert street war was not too much to ask; he'd quietly planted certain extraneous information on the man's commlink recorder, sure that Treseda would find it, sure that Treseda would kill him.

Sure that Treseda would step unwillingly into the trap laid before him.

Yes, Brel had been playing this game for a long time. His easy fall into the criminal underworld had been easy when he'd first left the Empire, upon the Emperor's death; when he'd first come to Hapes. His intelligence, quick wits, and fighting ability had easily earned him high ranking position after high ranking position in various criminal organizations. He'd done it to survive; now, he used his skills for a greater purpose. Ten years of this life had taught him unpresidented skills; he knew all too well how to win this war, this secret war, fought in the back alleys and dark streets of Hapes. Kasien Treseda, this gifted young NRI operative, was his opponent.

And while the younger intelligence agent was gifted, talented, he was no match for Brel.

Tilaric smiled at his own cunning. While Treseda had been sent to Hapes to investigate something of which he had no knowledge, this was Brel's region; his ground, his turf. He would not be defeated, not here.

On the recorder which Treseda now carried, was contained the record of a search of Kasien's dialogue with whomever his New Republic contact was. A search, which would enflame suspicion. A search for three, simple words.

Eclipse Star Destroyer.

The officer was stunned, for now, as Kasien entered the commlink address of the New Republic Senator, Firel Nekkelon. The Sullustan appeared suprised as Treseda's face appeared on his commlink, surely; their previous contact had been audio-only, the risk of visual transmission too great. The Sullustan fell back into the pre-rehearsed act. 'Son... we speak again! What's --'

"We can talk, Firel. This is a secure planetary transmitter."

Firel blinked, bewildered, but nodded. 'As you wish, Agent Treseda. Why do you contact me, again?'

"We've got trouble," Kasien began, "Big trouble. You said Xylon had been dispatched by Musaile's cohorts in the navy?"

'Yes.' Nekkelon nodded. 'To the Mon Calamari system. Do you know something?'

Kasien looked away, then nodded slightly. "Our last conversation was being recorded by someone, probably one of Musaile's agents. I caught him," Treseda assured him, "And killed him."

'This is all very interesting, Agent Treseda, but what does it have to do with our present situation?'

"The operative was in a hurry. He wasn't just on standard surveilance, he was reporting back to someone who needed to know something. He was carrying a recording device, one which he'd intercepted our entire conversation."

Firel blinked. 'And?'

"And on that recorder, the last search he entered was for three words. He searched for them, over and over, scanning our words for anything resembling them. Eclipse Star Destroyer." Kasien said severely, holding up the small, black comm recorder as if to accentuate his point.

'I see,' Firel said, in a frightened tone which indicated that he didn't.

"Someone is planning something for Xylon's flagship, Firel. And they're trying to see how much we know."

Firel inhaled sharply, nodding gravely and looking away. 'Hexyra is slated to arrive in the Mon Calamari system in two hours. I'll get on the hypercomm.'