The weight of a single galaxy.

Can one even comprehend it's weight?

Why not ask the one who has it sitting on his shoulders?

He would tell you that it's about to break his back.

Letting loose a long drawn out sigh, Park pushed back away from his desk, the wheels of his chair squeaking as they ground a groove in the plush carpeting of his floor. His head rolled backwards, letting his closed eyes stare upwards at the ceiling.

His eyesight may only extend as far as his office roof, but his responsibility extended far out into the stars billions of lightyears away.

How can one man manage the fate of so many, and have direct control over the fate of so few?

What keeps him from going insane?

The answer?

He is already insane.

His eyes opened again, and his head returned to it's normal position.

No new information cocerning the revolt in the Corellian sector. From the taskforce sent to deal with the problem, nor from other sources.

They just didn't have the warships to deal with that problem. Not with the other problems they had to deal with.

Corellia had always been somewhat of a reluctant ally of the Empire, as it seemed. They had helped plenty back in the day, but as the days grew older and older, the Diktat seemed to grow more and more distant.

He will hate himself for what he was about to have ordered done. But, they can't afford to let the Corellian shipyards fall into the hands of yet another enemy of the Empire. The same goes for Centerpoint station.

As to how one manages to run an entire Galaxy, the array of one thousand comm channels on his commphone indicates how it is possible. With an army of staff, anything is possible.

He punched in one of the comm codes, near the top of his phone. A message was sent, recieved, and replied to.

The door to his office swung open. An assistant stepped inside and closed the door behind it.

"Corellia. I've reached a decision," said Park calmly.

"I'm ready," replied the assistant, holding a holopad and recording pen ready.

"No word has been heard from the taskforce, nor from other sources. No new information on the status of our enemies in that sector or the condition of the shipyards," Park paused to let the scribe catch up.

"Therefore, I have decided to sacrafice the system, it's shipyards, and the station, or rather, write them off as enemy casualties," stated Park, an edge of irritation creeping into his voice.

"Finished," said the scribe.

"Very well. You are dismissed. That goes to the public press. Send in the good Admiral on your way out," ordered Park, hunching forward from his chair to rest his elbows on the desk.

The scribe left, to be replaced by Admiral Brand.

"Yes, Emperor?" asked Brand while bowing slightly.

"Corellia is a problem we can't deal with. Much as I am loathe to do so, we don't have the resources to combat them, so we will have to use our enemies to destroy our enemies," said Park, his eyes glittering with hidden madness.

"Sir?" asked Brand in suprise.

"Gather up one hundred of our tugs with their finest pilots. We will tow an array of the decomissioned holonet and relay stations to a point where the jamming won't hinder their operation, but where they surround the Corellian system. Once they are in place, have them activated and transmitting everything they pickup, no matter where the destination is," ordered Park.

"But, my Emperor...why?" Brand asked for clarification.

"Because, the Reavers will home in on their signals. They will find the jamming, they will find the source of the jamming, and they will devour it, along with anything else that is nearby. Whether those bastard Corellians defeat the Reavers, or the Reavers consume the Corellians, either way, our enemies will fight our enemies, and that will give us much needed breathing room," said Park, his eyes glittering even more now.

"And what happens when the Reavers consume the Corellians, absorb the ships, shipyards, Centerpoint station, and turn their attention to their Coreward neighbors?" asked Brand in annoyance.

Park tilted his head upwards, staring into the eyes of Brand. His own eyes hardened, the glittering stopped completley, and his facial complexion turned red.

"When that happens, if that happens, don't worry yourself about it. No matter who wins out of this conflict, by my hand, our enemies will both become losers," stated Park, his voice cold and hard.

Taking his cue to leave, Brand bowed and made a quick departure, wondering on the way out just what had become of the one that he used to call 'friend'.

The trio of shuttles departed from the hangar bay of the Star Destroyer coasting into a general stop with a large docking platform. The destroyer, Thorton's Flagship, would be receiving emergency repairs, as would a major portion of the rest of his fleet, either berthing or already berthed in the various commercial dockyards appropriated under emergency articles by the New Order military. The dockyards would be released back to their commercial clients in seventy two hours, the allotted time to make as many repairs as possible to the battle fleet before it would be sent back out to re-assemble and reform prior to heading to the front lines once again.

Some of the ships would be rated as being 'total constructive losses', and their weapons and other systems would be cannibalized to speed the repair of the other vessels in the war fleets. Their hulks would then, depending on what condition they were in, would either be scrapped, or listed as being scrapped and towed out to the Order's Sanctuary project in the Unknown Regions, a top secret project currently in the works by the new Emperor.

The shuttles glided over the hull of the Super Star Destroyer Dominion, the latter holding medium orbit over Vladet, serving currently as a guard and a beacon of safety to the recently evacuated citizens and politicians from Coruscant. They then descended through an approved opening in the planetary shield networks, an escort of TIE Defenders taking up station. The honor guard led the shuttles past networks of Planetary Ion Cannons and Hypervelocity Cannons, the latter present in overly abundant numbers; following the attack on Rachuk by the ORS in one of the past wars, the now Emperor Kraken had slowly but surely built up the most impressive array of ground based weapon systems on Vladet in the entire known galaxy, the weapons drawing on thermal power provided by the once active volcanoes in the region.

Those volcanoes were now considered 'extinct', the cooled magma that the thermal ducts produced being strip mined and shipped off planet to smelters in orbit for processing from ore into useable metals, mostly for starship construction for the shipyards, also in orbit. Mining the ore allowed fresh magma to rise up into the thermal vents, the process repeating itself in a never ending cycle that allowed the thermal ducts to continue siphoning off heat without having to dig constantly deeper into the heart of the volcanoes and magma routes from the center of the planet.

The shuttles now approached one large volcano in particular, 'Grand Isle', in which an entire city and military base had been built into its crater. This volcano had been dead for millennia, its supply of magma having found other routes to travel in its journey to the surface. Just in case though, a network of thermal vents had been installed deep into the volcano's belly. A smaller but more powerful shield existed even over this military installation and city, in which another opening allowed the shuttles and fighters entry.

The fighters broke away after entering the shield, landing at one of four platforms scattered around Grand Isle that served as bases for the one hundred forty four TIE Defenders that protected this city alone, currently the 'Heart of the Empire', although that term would take some time getting used to yet by the city's long time inhabitants.

Emperor Kraken watched as the shuttles settled onto the smaller, more private government docking platform across the street from his mansion, which now served as his 'throne room' of sorts. He lived in the same place he worked, and because he was now Emperor, his family had been brought to Imperial Center to live with him, back in the old house. Call him crazy, but he no longer really though about his family's safety, rather, he thought of them as tools he could further use to maintain his grip on the throne, although of course that wasn't quite the same wording and reasoning he was using in his mind and heart.

At the present time, he was even toying and sending out feelers for naming his wife Empress, and his sons Crown Prince and Prince, the former for the oldest and the latter for his youngest. The main problem right now was deciding who would fill in the upper echelons in the government, and perhaps ol' Thorton was coming here to try and beg for a few morsels more of power. Inwardly Park loathed the thought of having Thorton as Regent, he would rather have some with honor, dignity, and a flair of aristocracy, someone like the Baron Grand Admiral, Telan Desaria. But he knew the man would never accept such a post, men like him belonged on the front lines, inspiring his underlings and providing the brilliant strategies that would win wars and more wars for the Empire.

So be it then. He would offer the job to Thorton, and see if the Puppy Moff would lick up the position. The honor guard of stormtoopers was marching Thorton and his entourage across the street right now, Imperial Police Speeders halting traffic in both directions. After scanning them for all sorts of dangerous or potentially dangerous items, just to be sure, the Moff was allowed in to see Park in his inner sanctum while his staff met with Park's staff in a conference room down the hall in order to get each other's knowledge on current happenings up to date.

Park remain seated on this throne, styled somewhat after Emperor Palpatine's old throne on the second death star, although he was attired not in the robes of the Sith, but in a military uniform, attesting to his old background. It was the solid white of Grand Admirals, but with black and red stripes running from the belt up to the shoulders, with gold shoulder boards and a dark purple cloak, fastened in place with a single button clasp over Park's upper left breast, the gold button emblazoned with the black and white symbol of the New Order.

The doors to his throne room opened. Flanked by two Imperial Guardsmen from the Royal Vladetian Halberdiers Regiment, Moff Thorton entered. Park steepled his fingers, not offering greetings, just waiting for Thorton to make the opening statement.

<b>On Vladet: Coruscant T+2 days</b>


On both sides of Moff Thorton’s shuttle dozens of warships damaged above Coruscant nestled themselves into various dockyards above Vladet. Some still belched smoke or vented atmosphere more than a day after the last Imperial warship had left the system or had massive holes blown in their sides. Others were less seriously wounded, their hulls merely pockmarked by the unclassified enemy plasma weapons. A small element of his main fleet was intermingled with them, moving into escort positions around the shipyards to provide protection to the damaged vessels. In 72 hours, when Vladet control insisted the ships had to be moved, they would continue to Kuat where the undamaged portion of the fleet had retreated to and the most extensively damaged ships would undergo repairs.

<i>Vos</i> he thought to himself with just a small measure of both bewilderment and disappointment. With a few exceptions in the picket detachments from his main fleet, the vast majority of the damaged ships had jumped into the battle under the command of General Vos in the most reckless attacks he had ever seen. If he’d known Vos was going to do that before the little stunt happened he never would have loaned him the ships.

The ride down was longer than expected, due to the impressive layers of planetary defences his shuttle had to clear. <i>I’d hate to have to assault this place</i> he remarked to himself while imagining vast Reaver hoards or a Cree’ar armada entering orbit above the planet, only to find themselves in the middle of a killing zone. The Grand Isle, sheltered under an extra layer of shielding, was a miniature fortress on a fortress world, defended by massed Turbolaser and Ion Cannon batteries that would make any Star Bomber Assault on the former Governor’s residence a nightmare.

Once landed, reaching the palace took nearly long as traveling from orbit to the Island, though it was no more than 500 meters away from the landing field. An honor guard stuffed Kach and his bodyguards into a hover-limousine and then, escorted by military police and Imperial Army hovertanks, the procession slowly made its way from the landing field to the Emperor’s residence. Roads, open to traffic, had to be closed by the police and every intersection cleared before moving, and so they were left waiting on the tarmac for nearly fifteen minutes before they set off. Eventually after a final security check for arms upon entry, he was escorted to the newly-proclaimed Emperor and his aides were taken to meet with the Emperor’s court to update them on the battle for Coruscant. A moment before entry into the throne room he checked his uniform to make sure it was spotless and then strode in before the most powerful man in the galaxy.


“Emperor Kraken,” he said as he respectfully bowed slightly before the new head-of-state of the New Order. “Grand Moff Kach Thorton reporting from Coruscant.”


“Welcome, Moff,” Kraken said. “Your report?”


Brevity was an art for some. Or he simply might not be in a mood for small talk – heavy lies the crown, particularly when the Empire was almost on the verge of collapse due to events. This man, Park Kraken, had worked heart and soul to hold it together since jamming had taken Coruscant out of touch with the rest of the Empire and because of that this was a man he could respect and follow, unlike the incompetent former Regent Zell. Kach nodded to give himself a brief flicker of a moment to organize his thoughts.


“I was on station along the Borderland-Reaver with my fleets when communications technicians noticed that Coruscant had disappeared from the communications grid. We're not in frequent contact with Imperial Center since the Borderland has always been meant to operate independently in the event of attack and constant movement of the protectorate's fleets has made communications difficult. When I heard this I withdrew my flagship to Myrkr, which is one of the few Borderland planets that lay outside the Reaver zone, where Comm technicians who were in contact reported some weird transmission Doppler effects before the communications black out and a data dump, both signs that were. . . “


“Indicating attack?” the Emperor finished for him.


“Correct. Indicating attackers of unknown origins. I withdrew the two fleets held in reserve near the border in case of attack and took them to Coruscant, where I met General Vos above the planet – I'm sure you are aware of his role in the attack. I assigned him the detachment of ships that now fill the shipyards above the planet. Watching the siege's situation on sensors, we observed the Cree'ar opening the evacuation corridor for the planet. I suspected an ambush so I sent the first fleet to secure the corridor against any ambushes and the second to a nearby empty system to be held in reserve, ready to jump in. Battle data sent to us by Coruscant command showed Zell had lost three fleets already in defense of the system, with two enemy fleets remaining.”


“With Commodore Brand and his Executor present the enemy would have been outgunned but our position was too vulnerable. The logistics of the attack made things too difficult. The end of the corridor was narrow, so the enemy could have easily held us off there like at Thermopylae,” Kach said, calling up the case where a small Tion fleet had held off a much larger fleet belonging to Xim the Despot at the narrow entrance to an asteroid field for several days. “In addition, even if we broke through we would have had to shuffle ships through slowly while they pounded us from all sides, and there was always the chance they had more fleets ready that could be brought in behind us in the corridor. Instead of attacking I ordered the corridor simply be held while the planet evacuated.

Kach shook his head and briefly looked at the ground before looking up at kraken again. “With hindsight, I wouldn't change any my actions above the planet. Against a mysterious, unknown foe with unfamiliar technology that had demonstrated themselves capable against us once before at Yaga Minor, under unfavorable circumstances I couldn't justify attacking. I wouldn't throw good money after bad like that.”