His TIE Fighter spun menacingly out of control from the X-Wing's pounding laser shots. All controls were going dead, and he could only see the fire ahead of him. Screaming at the top of his lungs, Darek Muldor pulled back as hard as he could on his yoke stick, trying to teeter the spherical fighter up, but to no avail.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> What is wrong with my instruments?!<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> he thought to himself, suddenly going pale as he saw what was before him. The bridge of an <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Imperial<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->-Class Star Destroyer, and he had no way to dodge. Pulling frantically on the stick, he wanted to move, his computer systems cried out in pain at him, warning him of increasing proximity, but he had no way of adjusting it.

Finally at his last seconds of life, he inhaled and...

...woke up. Drenched in sweat the former Imperial TIE Fighter pilot checked all around his room to get his bearings straight. He was in his bedroom, aboard the <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Imperial<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->-Class Star Destroyer <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Wraith<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->. Peering around, he realized he was dreaming again, that nightmare of his near death experience at the Battle of Commenor, where the Rebel Alliance had nearly destroyed the entire fleet there, as well as the shipyards positioned around the planet.

He could still hear the raying laser blasts in his head, he could still hear the continuous, voracious blasts of red lasers seering around him. His hands ran over his face, wiping the sweat away and focusing straight ahead.

"It was just a dream," he told himself, rising from the bed and grabbing his datapad. Pressing it on, he saw the full database as to the plans of the Rogue Empire at Commenor, which primarily involved convincing a joint with the New Republic. The great urbanization and history had attracted Xylon and Organa, but the closeness to the core was what really attracted them. Corellia, Coruscant, Talus, they were all needed to secure the core worlds and defend the best interests of the galaxy, at least that is what the propaganda reasoning was.

There was a short pause, and then he finally rose from bed after seeing the time on the chronometer. It would be dawn on the side of the planet he needed to land and begin the negotiations on, where he would convince the population to thwart toward the Rogue Empire and New Republic.

The arguements were so insatiably hectic, Darek's ears were pounding sensuously. All the persons of the Commenor Political Soverign as they called it were arguing endlessly about the divisions the planet would be split into once the Republic got their hands on it.

"If the Republic is allowed to land soldiers here we will have a second catastrophe stemming up from endless shipyards and resource reallocation for more pollutant atmosphere. They will turn this into a second Duro!" one of the senators protested.

"Did you ever think of the renovatory potentialities raising from having a major political power soverign of the planet? With the excessive funds and assistance through military support, we could most definitely clean up the atmosphere and even have a proper defense against potential invasions. What of the Yuuzhan Vong that we've heard about who are at this very moment sieging Ylesia?"

"Why would anyone turn to Commenor?" another senator raised.

The arguing went on, and on, and the Rogue Imperial representative wanted nothing more than to cover his ears, curl up, and scream until he could scream no more. But of course, he knew he could not do that for the sake of diplomacy.

Feeling his skin tingle with both stress and anger, a boiling rage built up inside Darek.

"Point blank is Commenor doesn't need the Republic <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> or<!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> the Rogue Empire!" one senator finally yelled, and thus everyone went silenty. All eyes fell on the Caamasi senator, who pulled back his stout and hissed. "Aligning with one of them will arrise only a war from one of their animosities."

Finally all eyes fell on the ambassador, and thus Darek felt his throat lump.

"Listen, the Rogue Empire and New Republic offer defensive sanction to the planet of Commenor, we will defend you from potential attacks, and furthermore, we want to help clean up Commenor and change it from a second Ord Mantell to a second Coruscant."

Again everyone was silent, and it was all dependent on one man's utterance of words.

"Deliverance of proper resources shall be attained after and only after soverign sanction is awarded to the appropriate authorities," he suddenly winced at his own statement of "awarded" as it was no doubt the least appropriate term to say. But nonetheless he nodded and carried on with the negotiations.



******************************************************



Resting in his private quarters, Darek Muldor downed his shot of Corellian Whiskey and sighed, grimacing in the face of the mirror. It was going to be a long and hard effort to take the planet of Commenor diplomatically, especially with the populace so insistent on the maintenance of isolation.

He let the glass drop on the ground before lying back on the bed, easing himself into a lash of comfort. Turning his head to his right, looking out the window...he saw a hideous figure with a blaster.

It did not take long for Darek to realize he was staring at a Noghri Death Commando. The narrow mawed figure snapped a ferocious jaw in recognition and let loose with his light repeating rifle, tearing apart his first class room and igniting several small fires. Darek leapt from his bed and onto the floor in a crazed frency.

"Guards! Guards!" the diplomat screamed as he heard the teltuous thump of two feet hitting the floor on the other side of the room. He could hear the menacing footsteps move nearer toward him with a prejudice wickedness.

More gleaming, scarlet lasers pounded out of the rifle slugged onto the Noghri's shoulder. For a moment Darek spun his whiskey bottle in his hand with the thought of hurdling the bed and killing the horrid beast himself, but that arrogant endamperment was quickly faded.

There were a short few resounding clicks, then a metallic THUMP as the rifle hit the floor. Directly following those dramatic vibratory sounds, there was the ecstatic ring of a metal blade being rubbed against the wodden scabbard. With a few WHOOSHES through the air as test swings, the assassin was once again on the move.

However, the cowering ambassador was suddenly forced to squint at the painful rays of light emitting from the now open doorway.

In the presence across the threshold was seen four men, three of which garmented in typical security wear, whilst the fourth stood cast in shadows. With blasters drawn it appeared as though there would be no hope for the Noghri. Of course that was merely a wrought out assumption. Rather, the sullied, grey figure withdrew several blades and lunged them with full might, slaying all three instantly.

It was then the fourth warrior to come to view.

Standing brisk and tall, plad in ebony garments, the PeFauna guardsman assigned to escort the diplomat had a fiery might to it that few could rival. Throwing back his night black cloak, on the inside was perfectly made ceremonial armor, two blades fastened to opposite hips. However, the PeFauna chose to use the Saidekadem, the laser=axe weapon of choice to the PeFauna guardsmen.

Thumbing it on with a sound similar to an igniting lightsaber, the dark plad soldier stood himself in a readied position. Being too petrified to move, Darek remained cowering behind the matress.

Unable to pass up a good fight, the Death Commando gripped the hilt of his blade as though a newborn babe. The affinity the two had with each as warriors held no masquerade.

"I am Febahsk Delit'Dtar," the Noghri announced proudly, thumbing his own chest.

The PeFauna took a similar motion, this time thumbing his own chest. "I am Major Eledriul," he called out over his helm, beckoning the fellow warrior on.

It was indeed the Noghri to lunge first, throwing his body weight in proper propulsion to circumvent his blow with massive force. Immediately the staff was brought to counter, throwing sparks from the impact.

In an attempted riposte, the Rogue Imperial defender twirled the weapon forward, the butt racing with whistling speed at teh deep jawed figure. The Noghri caught on and lifted his blade horizontally to parry. In a fluid motion with his previous, the seasoned warrior spun himself about with a roundhouse kick, nearly breaking ribs had it not been for the ceremonial armor. Regaining his bearings, the buzzing blunt of the durasteel weapon slashed out at the figure.

Bringing his sword down again, Febahsk hardly parried the Dark Side ambitioned assault. Using the momentum from the block, the PeFauna shot out the other end of his staff in a bludgeoning assault, nearly crippling his opponent. This, in turn, released the warrior's blade and allowed for the electrocharged ray of life to hack through Febahsk.

Pulling back before the blade pierced a lung, Eledriul brought his foot up smoothely, cracking the chin of the would-be assassin and throwing him in a bloody heap on his back. Again the staff was twirled, this time aimed for his foe's throat, but stoppig just short.

Darek took this time to regain his composure, brushing the powdery, shattered duracrete from his night-robes and blundering forward to the egotistical monster.

"Now see here you," he said, slowly rebuilding his confidence from ground zero. "Who sent you? Why are you here?"

There were a few tense moments of silence before the Noghri cried something in his native tonue, and batted the durasteel staff asside. In an attempt to maintane freedom, the Noghri thrashed himself up, only to find the laser end of the PeFauna's staff careening toward his skull.

"No wait!" Darek shrieked in horror, yet it was too late, what was done was done. Febahsk's head was now divided in two halves in a bloodied mess on the floor. Darek fell to his knees in both disblief, and disclaimed horror. However, the PeFauna seemed to not mind in the least, rather he merely did an about face and exitted.



***********************************************************



"The only reason an entire Rogue Imperial Investigation Beaurau hasn't arrived is because the emperor is pressing us for time, and with thus I am going to ask right now, who sent Febahsk?" Darek slammed his durasheet documents on the table angrily, enflamatorilly raged at the silence embedding the room. The fourteen politicians who held supreme soverignty over Commenor peered at each other drastically. "You all should be happy I'm being so lenient, otherwise an entire Rogue Imperial flotilla would have arrived by now to take Commenor through force."

The diplomat paced himself across the room, his boots offering soft taps with every step.

Rising from his own chair, Senator Lanyx said, "With all due respect Ambassador, how do you even know it was one of us?" Darek beamed a glare at the politician, who merely sat back down.

"If this happens again, our lord will not be so lenient," Darek finally concluded, easing down in his chair. "Moving on-"

"Yes speaking of which," Senator Fulord interrupted. "how does your 'lord' intend to establish sanitation and cleanse the polluted atmosphere?"

Resting his chin in his palm, the diplomat responded. "We've been through this before, Emperor Fearsons is nt going to have power over that, Chief of State Solo and Supreme Commander Hexyra shall, while the emperor shall defend the planet with his mighty Star Destroyers."

And then again the greedy politicians went at it in all ferocity.

The Noghri stalked...watching the group and analyzing their every move as he stood in the shadows.