Riding the Lambda-class shuttle through the atmosphere, the Grand Inquisitor reviewed the orders that had just eeb sent to him from High Command. And the Emperor no less.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> ...First Assault Flotilla is to disengage from Borleias following completing or conclusion of diplomatic entreaties. The Flotilla's further assignment is to make best speed to Jileak Station, where a patrol route will be assigned....<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

The Viscount was disaapointed. Patrolling was far from adventurous, as he knew the topic well. Many droll nights and days wasted patrolling shipping, when unmanned remote control corvettes could complete the task. However, Jileak would be hosting a diplomatic delegation, and this was an important assignment.

Boring, but important.

The Viscount filed away the flimsiplast and glanced out the window at the Nebulae, the ship that was goin to take him to Jileak while Captain Aerin completed the mission. It grew ever larger in the transparisteel viewpane as the shuttle approached the docking bay.

Slowly, she touched down on the metal decking, and with a hiss, the landing ramp lowered. The Colonel stepped out and was greeted by Captain Valtinn,a tall and dark-skinned officer from Despayre.

" Greetings, Colonel. I welcome you to the Nebulae."

" Thank you..."

The Colonel stopped midsentence, and felt something was amiss...something out of place.

He dismissed it and kept walking.

Bu the feeling was nagging at him.

And he could not shake it.

The feeling came to surface as the Fires of Fate roared into being, making the presence of Destiny known to all in the hangar.

It was an explosion.

Without warning, a jet of flame shot down from the roof and the deck shook, throwing men from their stations and TIEs from their racks. A tongue of fire pulsed forth from the bulkhead and demolished the Lambda-class shuttle: including the three men inside. Only the heroic and rapid repsonse of the remaining men in the launch control room managed to keep the magnetic field operational so all were not sucked into space.

Captain Valtinn was dead, shrapnel lodged in his throat and his olive tunic drenched in blood. The middle aged officer's rank plack had stopped another piece of red-hot debris in its course through his body.

Over a dozen men were in stages of death or alive enough to cover the entire bay with the throes of agony.

Within moments, the alarm klaxon resounding throughout the ship, medical teams had arrived on the scene. Men, and said, horrific sections of what were once soldiers and officers were removed to better care then field triage.

A medic, a warrant officer, moved over the Captain Valtrinn, and saw the Grand Inquisitor. He was astonished. Not one crew member other than the Captain - and the men in the launch bay- knew of his arrival.

" Oh Vritt!" he yelled, cursing the suprise of the moment. Tending to the wounded body of your task force's commander was not the way to introduce yourself as ships' doctor.

The young officer signaled several of his subordinates over, who were finished tending to the dead, and to arrive with all the supplies they had. When they arived, they began cursing and chattering as they began their work.

After making sure there was no damage to the Viscount's back and t was safe to do so, they rolled him ove, onto a stretcher. It was then that his left arm could be seen,. his body no longer obscuring it.

Hs left arm, from elbow down, had been shredded. But he was alive. A pool of liquid had formed between he and their Captain.

After andministering anesthesia for the pain, they thought it best to rouse him to consciousness. He would want to be on the scene, from what they surmised of the fleet-wide descriptions of the new Grand Inquisitor.

The Colonel's eyes opened, slowly and with great pain. Above him were the wrecked remains of a TIE squadron, engineers taking evey available measure to ensure the rack didnot fall on the wounded below.

The Colonel looked right and could see, just beyond his body, the gaping hole in the wall. With more pain and energym, he turned left. He did not see his hand...he saw into the lifeless eyes of Captain Valtrinn. Vowing revenge, he slippedack into unconsciousness.

The lights of the medical bay were low, making it easy for any who came from a state of sleep or induced unconsciousness to arouse easier. There was no immediate scuintings as a lamp overhead showered ones sensitive retinas.

The Viscount realzied this as he opened his own eyes. He tested every one of his body parts witha system he had deveoped as a child, tapping ito a sense from every part of his physique. His feet and torso were intact and bereft of any damage he could feel. His head, other than feeling rather groggy, was in no pain. His right arm felt fine. But his left was numb. He could feel nothing. As if were not there, separated from whatever emotion as trapped therein.

With great care, the Inquisitor sat up. the medic on duty in the private room he had been assigned rushed over and aided him to sit back and rest against the pile a of red pillows.

The Viscount nodded and smiled as much as he could, and raised his left arm from under the sheets. The site made his eyes grow wide. How he understood why there was sensation. What had been his left arm was a mass of cables, wires, and metal. Most had been covered by synthetic skin.

The Colonel could not believe his eyes and rested his head down, staring at the grey ceiling.

<!--EZCODE ITALIC START--> Is not this ironic? Suffering from the same debilitation as Skywalker. And to think, my grandfather died in the attempt to squash him. The Fates do have a sense of humor. Horrid, but humorous.<!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->

It was in his musings that a door chimed open and Captain Aerin strode in. He clicked and saluted.

The Viscount grinned and moved his right hand as much as he could. It was not much: the medication had yet to wear off.

" Sir, the Fleet is ready. I have set a course for Hoth, sir."

The Viscount smiled again, his reaction for being pleased. He mustered up all the strength he had and murmured," I...have ended up...on your ship...after all."

" There is a transmission for you from the planet."

The Viscount nodded and his Captain acivated a holoprojector from the ceiling. He saluted and left the room.

" Greetings, Viscount del Forza. I am pleased that you are well. The Borleian Council of Ministers had decided to abstain from making a decision on the matter of Borleian entrance to the Rogue Empire. Thus a decision was remanded to me. And a decision I have made. I am afraid I lack your eloquence, but suffice it say, you may begin constuction of your shipyards. Borleias ran up the Rogue Imperial Standard this morning.

" We look forward to fighting toside by side, and welcloming your commerce. It is greatly apprecated."

The bluish haze faded and the Viscount was left to ponder. His mission had been completed, and he would be back on the bridge in a matter of days. As he began another set of musings, he felt the deck hum with the pulsing of the hyperdrive engines. The First Flotillas was off, a fleet coming to relieve it in a matter of hours, to suppliment the five garrison bases and eight TIE squadrons ordered behind should success be attained.

Goals accomplished, the Colonel drifted off to sleep, satisfied tht he ahd furthered his loyalty. And his cause.

The thrum of the near engine helped im to drift.