"Outer-Rim Federation?"

"Yes"

"Who or what is that?"

"The Viceroy just announced the joining of The Duskhan League and the Outer-Rim Federation"

"What!?"

"You heard me, Spret"

"Why would he do this?... what about our people? our planets?...our way of life?"

"They will live on. Under the care of a new government. It is exactly as before, except the government is not dominated by Yevetha"

"I do not understand"

"I know. But the joining is in process. It cannot be official untill all our operatives are back. Your services are needed, Yzan Spret. The Federation is offering you a military commision because of your history and expertise"

"This was unexpected. Is there any sign that might indicate the Viceroy is being... manipulated by this Federation?"

"No... but some members of Intelligence are suspicious. Tentengo Spa'ar is leading a covert investigation into the matter. I promise you will be appraised of the results"

"Good"

"The Viceroy wishes to speak with General Agant. Is he with you?"

"No. He is in a meeting with the Jedi leader, Gash Jiren"

"Tell him to contact me at the usual time"

"Understood"

<font color=gray>Katana Dreadnaught, Gash Jiren's Office</font>

"This is the appointed leader of the civilians, Zartel Vex." <font color=gray>Arrix introduced.

Zartel bowed low and took a seat right beside Arrix, looking a little frightened and unsure of his surroundings. Arrix, however, had been here many times and the only thing troubling him now was the fact that he felt Gash's uneasiness. He frowned, making no efforts to conceal his frustration with the Rogue Jedi Master.</font>

"Master Jiren, you seem troubled. Is there anything wrong?" <font color=gray>he asked quizzically.</font>

OOC: Guys. Place locational tabs on your posts. Underlined.

The Bridge of the Jenova, En Route to the Mon Calamari System

While Xex Tirion debated about the honor of using Xireon's revolutionary soldiers on an unsuspecting commander, Xylon Hexyra was proving to be quite suspecting, indeed. The very-alien Supreme Military Chancellor paced the bridge of the Eclipse Star Destroyer, Jenova, glaring about at his officers. Unusual behavior for the placid, unshakable commander; behavior which worried the various high-ranking officials about the craft. Xylon was, however, in his own world, at the time.

It was a feeling, like ice, in the pit of his stomach. One which made him sick, sick to the core; they were not even in the Mon Calamari system yet, and still the presence of something pervasively evil permeated the Force. One which went beyond obvious nervousness from the message delivered by Firel Nekkelon. Something was not right; something was terribly, terribly wrong, to the point that turning and running seemed almost logical.

He could console himself with the tales of his exploits. He'd masterminded the battles of Dantooine, Muunilist, and so many others; so many brutal, sometimes disasterous conflicts, all of which he had emerged from unscathed. How could one battle in an allied system against an un-entrenched enemy prove so daunting? He was Xylon Hexyra. He was a legend. He was a genius to the point of making other high-ranking officers appear stupid. He was...

Yes, he could console himself in that manner.

But he was also too coldly logical to do so. To be a Jedi was to trust the Force; to be a Rogue Jedi was to live as a warrior. If a Rogue Jedi was unable to trust the Force, he was dead for certain. Xylon knew that to try to assauge his own fears in such a way was to mock and neglect the warnings of the Force, to leave himself unprepared. A foolish thing to do, simply to be comfortable. Comfort wasn't a concern of the dead.

But then, if this was a warning, what could be done? What was the solution? If Thrawn's forces could so coldly touch the Force, enough to shake even a Jedi Master, something darker than a fleet invasion was at work, here. And yet, it assaulted his sensibility to wade so willingly into a situation so dark. The premonition was almost foreboding to the point of being fatalistic... Firel's message... and with Musaile's eagerness to send him... as Xylon looked about the bridge, he saw only officers who idolized him.

There it was. The moment of clarity, as he brought all the pieces together, and touched on the Force.

He'd been set up; he'd been taken advantage of by a politician who knew just what kind of a situation he'd been sending his leading military advisor into. Xylon was Musaile's largest political threat. With so many officers loyal to him here, one proton torpedo could land Musaile as the Chief of State. Xylon was about to die.

He grimaced. To end... like this? Betrayed to his death at the hands of a petty Senator, who had enough friends in Intelligence to know exactly what he was about to send Xylon to fight?

To be damned by a man driven to treason by his own greed?

But how could he pull away? If he did, how many more would die at the hands of a phantom foe? No. Musaile underestimated what it was to die a Jedi Knight, to die and become one with the Force. Whether or not he died this day, Xylon Hexyra was not finished.

With a nod from his communications officer, the fleet leapt from hyperspace into the Mon Calamari system, approaching from a distance, masking their approach with the outermost world. "Sensors... direct all scanning equipment to the outermost planet. A complete sweep, all sides."

The Sensors Officer furrowed his brow at Xylon. 'That would leave us blind from all other directions.'

"Do it."

The man nodded. On the main viewscreen, the image appeared. Behind the planet, lay seven Star Destroyers, preparing to assault. Thrawn hadn't been anticipating that someone preparing for a stealth approach would bother scanning around an entire world, and leave themselves to be blindsided. But he had been anticipating the stealth approach. "That's it," Xylon said, gesturing to the world -- rocky, uninhabited. Perhaps less a world than an asteroid. "Our cover is blown. They know we're coming. Charge the superlaser, have all ships power all weapons, shields, sensors, and communications. Prepare for battle."

The trepidation was gone from Xylon. In it's place, was a grim visage of determination.

The Bridge of the Chimaera II, Mon Calamari System

Thrawn blinked slowly, staring unerringly at the sensor display in the centre of the bridge. The Chimaera II sat well in from the outer world where the Republic fleet seemed to have discovered their sneak-counter to their sneak-attack. Not because of any cowardice or fear of battle by Thrawn -- merely so that he would be able to be part of the main attack, personally. "Our Chancellor Hexyra is a great deal more astute than we had assumed."

Soontir Fel shrugged, glancing out the fore viewport at the distant triangular shapes surrounding one, central, more Imperial craft. 'Jedi.' He said simply, as if that explained it -- which, actually, it did. 'It won't do him any good, will it?'

"No, indeed, it will most certainly not." Thrawn raised his head, following Fel's gaze. "He missed entirely, though, the two Star Destroyers hidden two worlds in. Catch twenty-two, I think the human phrase goes." Thrawn smiled, his brilliantly white teeth seeming almost feral. "And those Destroyers, I think you will find, are far more deadly than even he other seven."

Fel looked down at his commander. 'Crewed with Achrions?'

"Yes." Thrawn chuckled. "It seems almost underhanded, doesn't it? Then again. We chose the better allies; Xireon, Talus, the other Sith. Xylon and Jiren possess far more power in the Force than either of our Sith associates; yet, I see no Achrions generated by them."

Fel shrugged again. He seemed to be in the habit of doing that; it happened, when your commander seemed to know nearly everything. 'True enough, sir.' He cleared his throat, signalling a switch back to business. 'While Hexyra battles the seven Destroyers we have placed there, the true threat bears down on him.'

"Yes. I trust our good Captain Tirion is well prepared, as is his squadron?"

'He is.' Fel responded, automatically producing a report datacard, which Thrawn waved away. 'The battle web, according to Talus and Xireon, is quite in place. Apparently, the number of sub-webs possible is increasing every day; Xireon has had great success in his Force experiments, as had Talus in his cloning. The one web encompasses them all; and within that, each starship possesses it's own sub-web, as does each single department within it.'

Thrawn nodded. The Force-enhanced super-soldiers served one key purpose; their interaction through the Force. Forming a battle web, the Achrions worked in tangent. One Achrion could kill two enemy soldiers; two Achrions could kill ten. The Achrion Squadrons were the most special of all battle webs, the webs which were placed under the most stress. Hence, only the Achrions which had showed the most promise had been assigned to it. Xex Tirion, the Lord of the 1st Legion, had been put in charge of this crack unit. Ironically, these squadrons were perhaps the most deadly of all. "Good. This will be quite a show. Order all units to commence the operation. Hexyra is expecting a fight; let's not disappoint him."

Hanger Bay of the Carrion, Mon Calamari System

Xireon smiled slightly, and greeted Talus. "Welcome back." He said to the reptillian creature. A hideous thing, a cobbled-together piece of genetic experimentation. Xireon considered him a work of art.

Talus seemed mildly disturbed. He hadn't anticipated the introduction of the Achrion crew to his craft, nor the command that his craft be moved to the front lines. Xireon had arrived on his craft with two thousand Achrions unexpectedly. Yet, Talus was disturbed, but not afraid. Talus was a creature after Xireon's own heart, in that respect; eager for a chance to spill blood, but not to the point of being insanely bloodthirsty.

But Talus had intended all along to leave this to the Achrionic soldiers; and now, he was.

As were his proud creations. The third Star Destroyer in the triad of Achrion-crewed vessels, the Carrion's cargo hold was a bustling metropolis of Achrion soldiers. An armada of doggedly loyal, highly organized warriors prepared to give their lives on the whim of their Sith masters. The two Sith fell into step beside one another, their twin black-robed forms fearsome against the speckled starry backdrop of space. The cavernous hanger opened onto space with a massive magnetically-shielded opening, a design choice which inspired the Achrions to understanding of their greatest mission; conquest of the massive oblivion which was the cosmos.

This hanger was a preparational area for the Force-enhanced soldiers, the newest weapon of Thrawn's invasion. Here, all but very few of the vessel's crew gathered together, for a final ceremony before the battle. A gathering of minds, one which strengthened their unique bond with one another. They stood, in their shining black armor and black uniforms, in complete silence, eyes closed. They were, Xireon could feel in the Force, twisting their minds through one another, intermingling in a complicated pattern. All at once, they clapped their hands, eyes flashing open.

Led by the man standing at the podium on the forefront of the gathering, a great cry rose up from the thousands of men, filling the hanger even more completely than their phyiscal forms. 'Loyalty above all!' It went. 'For the glory of our creators!' It finished, and with one more simultaneous clap, they broke, rushing to their stations. As his thousands of men dispersed, the Achrion on the podium stepped down, pacing over to where Xireon and Talus stood.

"Lord Vanchex," Xireon greeted him.

'Master Xireon, Master Talus.' He said, sweeping into a deep bow. 'You honor my undeserving soul with your presence. I live to serve.'

Xireon glanced to Talus, barely containing a smirk. "Talus, this is Vanchex, Lord of the 2nd Legion. He commands those who crew your vessel. Or, rather, he is the keeper of the hive-mind. Regardless, he is the driving force behind them."

'I am honored to staff this worthy vessel with my Achrions, Master Talus. You are a great addition to those who serve the glory of Master Thrawn.' Vanchex said, bowing his head once again.

"Dismissed, Lord Vanchex." Xireon said. "The battle has begun, and you've not the time to spare."

ooc:fine gash

<!--EZCODE UNDERLINE START-->Kamon's Office<!--EZCODE UNDERLINE END-->

"A YT-1300. Why the hall are we going to fly a piece of crap like that? I'd prefer to fly a bathtub in a fight with only my blaster. Oh well hopefully it has some decent speed." Corran exclaimed.

With that he grabbed the bottle of whiskey and left the room heading towards his X-Wing but not before downing half of the remaining bottle

<!--EZCODE UNDERLINE START-->Hangar Bay With Corran's X-Wing<!--EZCODE UNDERLINE END-->

"Come on Q9 finish with your stupid modification. I don't have all day waiting for you to add the newest piece of gadgetry that Industrial Automaton comes out with. Most likely it will just break down like half their other upgrades. And we're going to Hapes. Maybe they have some good things their, I heard that some of the scientists on Ollanji and Charubah have created some behavioral upgrades." Corran punctuated the last comment with a small smile.

"I don't need a behavioral upgrade. You're just jealous because I'm a better pilot and I'm smarter than you. All you have is that weird force thing." said Q9

"Yes I have that weird force thing and you better not make comments like that. The Jedi we're with has a fairly nasty temper. Really touchy concerning the force. I suggest that you don't insult him or the force. And what's this new upgrade anyways." asked Corran

"It's a small blaster." said Q9

"What good will that do?" scoffed Corran "You can't harm a living being remember?"

"It also comes with a programming upgrade that get's rid of those archaic commands. I think it's quite a victory for us droids. Except for a few droids like assasin droids and Bounty Hunter droids droids are not able to harm a living being. This is just another way to make droids more helpful." replied Q9

"Well here's another way to be helpful. Finish with the upgrade and get your tin can rear over to the YT-1300 that we've been assigned. But before you leave pass me a cold one." said Corran

"Not untill you say please. I think it's you that need a manners upgrade." said Q9

"Fine. Pass me a cold one please." said Corran

"If you insist." said Q9

At that a small panel in his side opened and a bottle of Ale popped out. Corran grabbedit and popped the top before downing half of it.

"Really Q9 you should upgrade your refrigeration unit. This isn't cold this is more like warm. Know before you respond I'm going to go because I have a schedule to keep and I don't have all day to argue with you." said Corran

Corran then turned and walked over to his bag. Picking it up he put it over his shoulder. He then strode out of the hangar bay towards the hangar bay were the YT-1300 was waiting.

<!--EZCODE UNDERLINE START-->YT-1300 Hangar Bay<!--EZCODE UNDERLINE END-->
"Are you sure this thing flys Kamon?" asked Corran. "Even the millenium falcon looked less like a hunk of junk then this!"

Being sent away to her own order! Raven just couldn't quite put to words the confused bout of emotions that was her reaction to Darren's order.

What if he was called to duty himself? Would something terrible happen to him if she was not there?

Raven could only sigh, putting the thoughts away for the time being. Since she was here, might as well report in, and see if she could be made useful.

She then knocked on the Emperor Fearson's door, keeping a neutral frown upon her face.

Unknown

<font color=blue>"Come to me Fearsons," a deep, almost melodic voice cried out to the emperor. "Come to me...feel the cold wrath of the Dark Side."

He looked around, absorbed with confusion, running his fingers through a sweat drenched scalp. Fearsons's gleaming ruby eyes dashed left and right, seeing nothing but mist and darkness, he was not even sure how he was standing, but it did not matter, the source of that voice was an ever present haunt to him now, and so he focused on where it might be coming from.

"You know who I am Fearsons," the deep voice called again, and for a single second he let himself believe it was Grand Admiral Thrawn...Syndic Mitth'raw'nuroudo, his long lost friend...his comrade-in-arms from the Galactic Civil War. "You know you want to fire that missile...do it...wipe out this threat."

No...Thrawn's voice was deeper...and not quite so sadistic. Who was this? The emperor knew the answer, and that was the worst part, he knew who this voice belonged to, he just could not remember at this exact time. Perhaps it was the Dark Side blotching out a bit of his memory for this moment exactly? Yes, that had to be it.

"What do you mean fire the missiles?" he asked the mist, hoping it would provide an answer. For a moment there was no response, and he was ready to give up hope...but then he heard the voice once again.

"Those warheads that are being voted to fire on Ossus...you must do so Emperor Fearsons, Shadow Jedi Master. Show the galaxy your honor by destroying this magnificent threat to eternal peace," the voice called out to him. He could not believe what he was hearing...to fire nuclear warheads on a target such as Ossus...where there were still survivors? Still prisoners needing liberation?

Emperor Fearsons was not Kueller, he would not act as such. Millions would die in such a holocaust, and millions more beyond from the radiation that would plague the planet. The Sith destroyed Ossus once, Fearsons would not do so again.

"Who are you?" the shadow jedi cried out, his hand dropping to grip his lightsaber at his side. Then the figure emerged from the mist, gowned entirely in metal armor of sorts. After stepping nearly ten feet away, he simply stopped and stood there, gleaming ruby eyes similarly to the emperor's glaring right back at him.

The man stood there like some grotesque suit of armor, standing in a gothic museum of horror, the metal rigged and twisted, with spikes protruding nearly wherever possible. The man was a horror.

"You know me...or at least your daughter does..." he responded, trailing off, turning that wicked, skull shaped helmet to gaze off to the left. "I am, afterall...the blue man."

With that, the warrior smashed one of his gauntlets against his chest repeatedly, all the while calling his name...smashing...calling...smashing...calling...knocing...</font>



Emperor Fearsons's Personal Office
Clak'Dor V, Celestial Corrupter

The loud knocking woke him from his troubled sleep, and the emperor lifted his head from the now soaked durasheets on his desk, and he gazed around the room, almost worriedly. His stark, black PeFauna stood flanking the doors, never moving, never focusing it seemed.

He ran his hands over his face, feeling the moistness of his flesh and sweat. He heard the knock again.

"Come in," he said finally, realizing it was all just a dream...just a dream.

Right?

The major ran a hand through his scalp as he stared at the men around him, all with innocent eyes gazing directly back at him, wonderingly, hopefully. What was he supposed to tell them? That Rogue Squadron, the most elite fighter wing in history, was disbanding because they were scared of this new enemy? That was not what the squadron was formed around and that was not what Atalya had died for.

"This is all that's left?" he asked, staring around at those around him, a bit unsure of himself now. There were five other pilots besides himself, including his current vice who stood on his right hand side. Some of them were only recently sent to Rogue Squadron just before the Ossan incident. They had not received a new batch since.

"Unfortunately," Commander Dylek, Rogue Two and the current vice of the squadron, responded, "yes. Since Jiren disappeared we haven't received a single pilot." The man then turned an accusing glare on Daren. "And speaking of pilots, where is your girlfriend...that Skywalker girl? Don't you think we need a jedi?"

That caught the commander of the squadron off guard, such a blatant accusation of his authority. But he let it pass without incident, he could understand the source of Dylek's tension.

"She's currently busy with her order and the Rogue Empire...she's been recalled for more jedi duties I suppose," he said in response, hoping that the excuse would pass for now. Dylek stared at him a moment longer before finally shrugging and making for his seat.

Then Daren gazed out across the room at all those seated around him, all eager to get back out where the action was. He could not blame them, ever since the fall of Ossus none of them had seen any action more than fleeing to respective systems to prevent from being rounded up and cloned, as that was the current rumor going around.

Secretly he had sent Raven back to her Jedi Order and the Rogue Empire in an attempt to keep her safe and stop this cloning process, no matter how farfetched it seemed, from grasping her. He wanted her safe, and seeing as she was currently lacking in piloting skills...

It was not that Daren did not trust his lover, it was just that this new enemy far surpassed her skill as a pilot, she would probably do better with what Emperor Fearsons - a far more seasoned veteran by what...a hundred years? - thought would be appropriate for her skills. He could only hope.

"I'm glad you all have come," he finally said, killing off all current conversations. "Really, I am, I cannot begin to describe the courage you have shown by coming before us today. Seeing as there are only six of us and nine starfighters...we will probably not be able to do much major damage on the enemy, but has that ever stopped Rogue Squadron in the past?

"Right now we are facing an enemy very likely as dangerous as the Yuuzhan Vong, or as deadly as Admiral Thrawn was. We need to hit them in the shins and work our way up to the groin." That remark won a dilligent but stale laughter from the pilots. "We are first going to start with a wave of recon missions because quite obviously we can't hit what we can't see right? So I have managed to get my hands on a Carrack Cruiser from the Rogue Empire, you can thank Lieutenant Skywalker for that later, that I have rigged to hold six starfighters instead of five and hold enough surveillance equipment to get us everything we'll need to know on the Ossus system."

With that he went into a far more detailed explanation as to the mission objectives, who they would be hitting, and where they would be hitting if they were to hit anything at all. They were all made well aware of the importance of the coming missions.

"Oh...and one more thing," Daren said suddenly as the pilots rose to leave. "I am giving you all cyonide pills...if you are captured...I need you to take them...if this cloning rumor IS true."

It was hard...but each of them took the pill with them, they knew it had to be done.

The stars offered no solace this night, as the sad crystal blue eyes of the Queen Mother looked out upon them. Her heart felt every Hapan life lost in the disaster as Ossus, every needless death at the hands of who… Grand Admiral Thrawn? She found it hard to believe, yet the reports were too numerous to not believe.

" Highness?"

The soft voice echoed through the otherwise silent chamber, bringing Vessana out of her thoughts and back to the present. She turned, the fabric of her gown swishing softly with the movement, nodding to her assistant Sorsha to enter.

" How many weeks has it been now my friend?"

Sorsha placed the tray filled with fruit and drink on the desk behind the Queen Mother. " Haw many weeks since what, Highness?"

Vessana sighed and looked out at the stars again, watching as many of them moved as they were not stars at all, but battleships that now patrolled the system. " Since we were forced to closed our borders." She glanced back at the younger woman. " I swore we would never close ourselves off from the Galaxy again, and yet in the course of one battle we lost more than half of our fleets and thousands of our soldiers. And here we are now, isolating ourselves once again from the outside worlds."

" You have done nothing that has not been in the best interest of the Colonies, Highness." Sorsha came to stand beside her.

" I was wrong!" Vessana shouted, storming away from the window. " I was wrong to keep out fleet from helping at Ossus, and yet I was wrong in sending them! I had to choose one or the other, and both were wrong! What kind of choice it that? I ordered the deaths of thousands of Hapan men and woman and I felt their deaths, Sorsha! I felt ever single one of them!"

Sorsha looked on at her monarch worriedly. She stepped hesitantly toward her, hoping to calm her. " Highness please-"

Vessana screamed in sorrow, tearing the crown from her hair and throwing it across the chamber. Tears streaming down her cheeks as she turned to face Sorsha. " I can feel it now, yet I don't know what IT is. Just a black hole of wrongness descending upon Hapes and there is nothing I can do. I have condemned the Colonies, Sorsha, and I am powerless to stop it."

Emperor Fearsons's Personal Office
Clak'Dor V, Celestial Corrupter

After what seemed an eternity, permission to enter was finnally granted.

Raven's neutral frown then turned into a natural, concerned one, seeing that the emperor himself appeared to have just woken up.

That would certainly explain why it took so long for her to be permitted to enter, that's for sure.

She crossed the room, and she noticed that whatever he dreamt, had greatly bothered him, the sweat on his face an obvious bit of evidense.

Raven then gave a gentle smile, handed over a hankerchief from her flightsuit, so that he could wipe the sweat off his face, and sighed sadly.

"So, what's up?" She asked, taking a nearby chair.

Oh, how she hated being unable to do anything. She was, at the moment, stuck between a rock and a hardplace.