Pavo Prime
Seriaph Tower

"Well?"

Rico Belgardi's tone was so laced with acid it was liable to set of the highly advanced (not to mention expensive) biohazard sensor that had been installed at the base of the executive hexagon- Rico's personal space that sat atop the corporate headquarters of his galactic spanning company. It could have, if the sensors had still existed. If they had, he wouldn't have sounded nearly venomous.

"The turbolift shaft will be operational shortly. The engineers are restoring power as we speak."

The answer satisfied the CEO. He fell silent. Satisfied didn't mean pleased.
He stayed silent for a few minutes. The security officer didn't speak either. That meant he was smart enough to realize Rico was extremely angry, or too stupid to carry on a conversation. At the moment, Rico didn't care. After a few minutes, the officer's com-link crackled.

"The lift has been repowered."

Rico looked at the officer, but didn't speak. The officer figured out that meant it was time to go. Rico was glad that his earlier question had been answered. The officer led Rico to the tower's primary public turbolift, the one that ran from the base of the building to its roof. Rico was not accustomed to sing that lift; he had a personal on that would run from the base of the tower all the way to the executive hexagon. Unfortunately, the turbolift tube had been damaged in the recent incident.

They rode the turbolift to the top of the tower's main structure, a ride that dragged out much longer than usual. Rico's private turbolift was unbound by the safety regulations and measures that inhibited this particular lift. He was not used to being without such conviences, especially in his own companies headquarters. After what seemed like forever, a short musical note announced their arrival at the top floor of Seriaph tower.

A short walk brought them into the waiting area that sat directly below the executive hexagon, and served as both a screening point, and an office for Rico's personal secretary, Kella Portmin. Though Rico rarely visited his secretary’s office, he knew that it was usually well kept and had a very crisp, professional air about it. That description however, couldn't have been more wrong about the office's state at the present time.

Belgardi personnel filled the waiting room- several heavily armed guards, others techs and engineers- and large obtrusive wires and cables ran across the floor and ceiling. Kella was not seated at her desk, a shame, as Rico could use some sort of distraction. Blonde, and with a very full figure, Kella would have been a welcome distraction.

One of the techs noticed Rico's arrival, and recognized who he was. The armed guards also noticed Rico's arrival. They hefted their large weapons, heavy disruptor rifles from the look of them, showing themselves to be alert and at attention. The tech walked over to Rico.

"Mr. Belgardi."

Rico moved his head slightly in acknowledgement.

"If you'll follow me please."

The tech lead Rico and the security officer past working technicians, around portable fusion generators and through a pristine doorway. As they reached the turbolift shaft, Rico saw a huge chunk of smashed and twisted metal, sliced into several large chunks, forming a sort of maze in front of the entrance. The tech started to explain, but Rico could surmize what had happened. He'd read the peliminary report. The debris was all that was left o a turbolift car, cut from its saftey cables and sent smashing to the ground during the incursion. The Belgardi team had used fusion cutters to cut it up so they could rig up a temporary lift inside the shaft.

The ride up to the hexagon was much shorter than Rico's earlier ride. The hexagon sat atop a large column, but it wasn't insanly far from the roof of the building. Whoever had paid a visit to Rico's alcove had used that to their advantage, and climbed the distance manually.

Arriving at the top of the column, Rico stepped out into the hexagon, and immediatly saw the extent of the damage. Coulmns were riddled with carbon scoring and valuable peices of art had been irrevocibly damaged. The plush carpet was torn to hell, and shards of several very valuable sculptures littered the floor. A pop down laser cannon was easily visible, unscathed, though Rico knew it's internal circuitry had been fried with ion fire. Another cannon, half concealed, had shared its fate.

He climbed the steps slowly, silently surveying the damage. As he reached the top he saw the massive security blast door barely touched. It had done absolutly no good however, as gaping holes had been opened on either side of the door. Rage finally getting the best of him, Rico kicked the huge slab of metal. To his credit, the security officer stayed silent.

The tour went steadily downhill from their. Rico's rare and deadly drodieka were nothing but scrap metal, an his secret repulsor plate defense had done jack shit. The security officer could sense his boss's rage, and stayed quiet the entire time. The only thing Rico hadn't been able to figure out yet was what had been stolen. He was too mad to make a concerted effort. As he stepped back onto the temporary lift, he spun and looked at the security officer, speaking to him for the first time since he had entered the hexagon.

"Find out who did this. I don't care how. Report to me personally."

The officer nodded, but seemd surprised. He had been taken aback by the venom in Rico's voice, the plain look of disgust and rage shown on his face.

"So I can bury them."

Rico Belgardi fidgeted, shifting his weight in what was a futile attempt to obtain some measure of comfort in his temporary workspace. So used to his own luxurious office, and the opulent quarters in which it was entombed, it had been years since Rico had been physically uncomfortable at work. The sensation was all the more impairing because of how unusual it was.

Rico barley even thought that thousands of employees of his company endured much worse conditions than what he was currently dealing with- an unused vice president's office which would have been heaven to many corporate employees anywhere. His slight movement relieved whatever pressure point had been ailing him, at least temporarily, and he returned to the memo he was reading.

[FONT=Impact].... and at this time I cannot be certain as to the exact nature of the operation. Several of our best analysts are devoting their full effort to this matter, and we hope to shed some light on it as soon as possible. Although we cannot be certain, we have some reason to suspect the intruders were hired by another entity, possibly in an act of corporate espionage...[/FONT]

The thought had passed through Rico's mind, but for some reason it simply didn't click. Why would a rival company forcibly break into his personal quarters? Corporate espionage was much more effectively pursued with stealth and discretion- finding an unhappy employee for example- and most companies were turned away from the idea that they could be exposed if such an invasive operation failed. Besides, the number of companies who could independently pull off such an operation was few and far between (and Rico had no reason to believe such entities like Arliss Industries or Vinda Corp had any reason to steal anything from Belgardi.) Smaller companies who had more to gain would have had to outsource the problem, an endeavor that was no doubt prohibitively expensive. A quick cost-benefit analysis, even done with major estimates on his part, Rico couldn't see anyway to justify the relatively minor gain from such a risk-plagued move.

But if it wasn't another company, who could it be?

That, of course, was a question with a very large variety of answers. However, a large number of the most likely candidates were eliminated almost immediately. Belgardi's affiliation, however secret, with the Union would provide them with immunity from any organizations or entities tied into that body. This basically eliminated organized crime and rouge intelligence agencies, along with several prominent companies that could stand to benefit by stealing Belgardi secrets.

As for personal enemies, Rico could write a book, but none of them were the type who he thought could pull off something of this scale. No, he had made many people angry, but he hadn't pissed off anyone to powerful. Perplexed, he shifted his weight again, and looked down at the memo.

[FONT=Impact].... itself was well coordinated and pre-planned. The power outage has been traced, and was deliberately shut off, most likely via a computer virus or trojan program. Due to the loss of primary power, we have little footage or other evidence of the event taking place, but the scene has been investigated to and produced rather interesting finds. First of which involves the turbolift shaft, where a combination of traditional climbing equipment and some for of sharp implements were used to traverse the shaft. One investigator claimed that the large puncture like marks along the walls at seemingly random interval suggest a highly irregular tool or other implement was used in moving upward. [/FONT]

Rico noted this claim, assuming the inspector must have been very confused top have included it in this report. What significance it held remained to be seen, but for some reason it just resonated with Rico.

[FONT=Impact].... pop-down guns were taken out with military grade ion blasters- circuitry totally fried. Will require full replacement. The security door was undamaged. Trace elements of explosive material have been recovered from the side of the door and wall fragments, and have been sent to weapons section for analysis. Destroyer droids are thoroughly destroyed, show signs of melee damage, though of an indeterminate origin. The repulors plates were scoured for skin and tissue samples. Several have been found and are being sent to bio-labs for testing. At the present time however, this information is not enough to make a definite hypothesis about the perpetrators of..[/FONT]

Rico stopped reading. The officer was about to put out some unintelligible mubo jumbo about why he couldn't figure out who had pulled this off. Rico knew that there were still a lot of tests to run- and those would help- but it didn't comfort him. He wanted to know who had done this- and what they had wanted. He thought about other possibilities.

The Empire sprang to mind.... their attack on Bespin was sure to have caused some animosity. However, this didn't seem like their style. Rico knew that they were a huge specter leaning over his head, but details were still somewhat sketchy about what had actually happened at Bespin (due to poor communications, and an apparent suicide by the primary administrator there). Of course, with the actions occurring so close together... they might have been trying to take him out.

That thought hit home really hard a second later. The Empire had attacked Bespin (and retreated, though after severely battering the Belgardi defensive forces there) and might have been making a play for his company. The idea that the Empire might have been trying to assassinate him was chilling... but there retreat from Bespin had him wondering. Did someone jump the gun? Maybe a rouge general had it out for him. That thought was no less reassuring than the previous one. Rico suddenly realized his hand was shaking. In an effort to distract himself, he turned back to the memo.

[FONT=Impact]external cameras did manage to catch some footage of the intruders, and that footage is being reviewed as we speak. As for air-defense records, several unknown irregularities were registered during the time of incident, including several power spikes in the vicinity of Seriaph Tower. Though their origin is unknown, they are believed to be in some way related to the escape of the intruders.[/FONT]

Being reminded of their escape allowed enough anger to enter Rico's mind to quell the rising horror of being a possible target of Imperial assassination. Getting in and pillaging his quarters had been bad enough... but vanishing into thin air with whatever they had stolen (though perhaps not with their primary mission accomplished) irked him greatly. Rico hadn’t fired anyone yet… he felt no need to ax people simply to shift the blame to someone, but if someone’s incompetence or inattentiveness had caused this incident, then may God help their sorry souls. A major factor in determining who was to be fired, would of course to be discover what had been taken. Shifting his attention to another memo, Rico picked up one addressing an inventory and preliminary assessment of the hexagon.

After a moment of skimming, he came across a line that sent a chill down his spine much like the one at the moment he realized he thought the Empire might be trying to kill him. In fact, it stunned him so much, he leaned back in his chair, forgetting he was not in his old office, and flipped over completely. Cursing, but with his pride hurt more than his body, Rico got to his feet, to feel that like his hand before, they were involuntarily shaking. With great resolve, he picked up a communicator and made a call to his personal secretary, Kella Portmin.

“Kella, can you please patch me through to the private line, highest encryption level. And tell everyone I am not to be disturbed until I speak to you again.”

Kella patched Rico through, and he patiently waited as his communiqué was relayed through countless relays and terminals, a majority of them privately owned by Belgardi. After a moment, he heard the sound of a connection, and a voice. Trying to keep his voice calm he spoke.

“I think we have a problem.”

Hyperspace
Immolator Cruiser Immolator

Rico Belgardi's stress had evaporated the moment he felt the slight, minute jolt, signaling that he was now traveling in hyperspace. For now, he was safe, surrounded by his own employees, in a luxurious VIP suite deep in the bowels of a 1500-meter warship. To top off his security measures, he traveled with a pair of his rare and deadly droideka, which despite having failed to protect the hexagon on Pavo Prime, made him fell much safer. Besides, barring an Imperial interdictor cruiser (a thought which Rico had forcibly removed from his mind) between here and Bespin, he was safe. Knowing that fact, realizing he could go sit down for a minute and rest his eyes without jumping up at the smallest sound was liberating. The stress had been visibly effecting Rico.... he had been sleeping very poorly and was not his usual suave self. He had felt mentally fatigued in the meetings he had attended- unable to concentrate on anything besides the attacks.... and the possible consequences involved with them. Although his personal safety had consumed much of his daily thought, the other thought, the silent specter had loomed in the back off his mind, less important only because Rico hadn't been able to confirm it yet.

The real reason for this little excursion.

The stopover at Bespin was going to be one of the shortest business visits in Rico's career. He was going to drop in, send off a shuttle carrying a new head administrator and investigation panel, and then hit the road again. The plan was to make a much lengthier stop at Bespin on the return trip. His presence on the Immolator wasn't even going to be mentioned. From Bespin the rest of the trip would be in hyperspace- a straight shot to the edge of the outer rim, and a Belgardi asset known on the star charts as Peragus.

Peragus II to be exact. Not much more than a large planetoid, the large rock was easily discernable from the huge chunk of it that was missing, caused by a mining accident their long, long ago. That explosion and other cosmic events even more archaic had caused a dense, constantly shifting asteroid field to surround the planetoid. Those asteroids and their primary were rich with numerous mineral compounds, including an extremely volatile substance used in certain fuels for various (usually older) classes of starships. Though not extremely profitable, Peragus filled a nice niche market, and was productive enough for Belgardi to keep it operating. Ostensibly, Rico was going for a routine inspection, a corporate bigshot making a trip to the edge of the galaxy to let his employee's know they hadn't been forgotten. However, the trip to Peragus was just convenient cover for his ulterior motives. Rico wanted to be as far away from the Empire as possible... and he had a person whom he needed to meet. An associate he couldn't risk meeting with elsewhere.

He had to meet with the Union.

Rico has married Belgardi to the Union for situations like the one he currently faced. Situations where despite his extensive personal power, where he felt overwhelmed. He personally siphoned funds out of his company (very discreetly) and shifted them to Union assets and affiliates across the galaxy. The Union had helped Belgardi muscle in on the Sestrian bankers, conveniently planning a terrorist attack on the planet by that madman Nogoth's organization with a meeting of the major heads of Sestria's primary banks. Financial advisors at many reputable firms had predicted that those bankers were planning on rejecting a line of credit to Belgardi, and would resist an attempt to form a strategic partnership with the company. Belgardi stock had slumped. Then, one well-timed explosion had cleared a roadblock, and now Belgardi owned those banks, effectively taking control of Sestria. Belgardi stock soared. Rico also made his own job easier, opening a new way to transfer assets to the Union without intermediaries. The infusion of capital had padded the banks' reserves, and enhancing their own ability to perform more effectively. Everyone was happy- with the minor exception of the dead men, whose opinion no longer mattered- which was how the relationship between the company and organization were supposed to work. How this new situation would be handled however, was anyone's guess.

Rico had retired into very casual, comfortable attire. Shedding his crisp, insanely expensive, designer suit usually made Rico feel out of place. He felt unnatural without it, and was convinced he spoke less effectively and even thought less clearly. At this moment though, it was another burden off of his shoulders. He had even shed the hold-out blaster he had kept on him at all times since the incident, tucked neatly inside his suit jacket. Rico wasn't much of a shot, but he had made a promise to work on that- when he had the time. Besides, knowing he was armed had help relive stress, even if it had little practical value.

Might as well do a bit of work.

The trip was going to be long, no doubt, and Rico was planning spending a good majority of it relaxing- recuperating his worn out mind and body. But at the moment his mind felt as sharp as a tack, and his frame was more relaxed than it had been in days. He felt too good to rest- a feeling he was certain would last for much too short a time. Settling into a comfortable chair, he pulled up a datapad and began perusing the newest analysis and reports involving the incident that had been causing him so much stress. Away from it all, somehow, he found he could focus and think and extrapolate. SO as the Immolator knifed steadily through hyperspace, Rico’s mind began pushing through the murk of the attack on the Executive Hexagon on Pavo Prime….

Peragus II

"... and finally, from myself and every employee of Belgardi Limited, I would like to extend a thank you for you dedicated work her. Many of you took this assignment, grumbling about the remoteness, and hardship- and all you did was grumble. Your work here is more valuable than you know and we all appreciate your dedication. Thank you for your time, now go have some fun!"

Applause rang out in the large, rough-hewed, cavern, which had been selected as a site for Rico's reception. The Immolator's cargo holds had been packed with amenities that were luxuries this far out on the outskirts of the galaxy, and its crew had spent a good deal of time unloading and setting up such amenities. Alcohol, rich food, a huge holo-project and recent holo-vids, and a grab-bag of other item were all laid out behind the makeshift podium the miners had rigged up for Rico's speech. Rico let it die down before adding,

"Oh, and I better not forget to hand out the bonuses I brought along as well."

The cheer hat followed that statement was twice as loud and reverberated off the high ceilings, increasing the noise level. Rico found himself candidly smiling.

Peragus was a really ragged place. Mining among the asteroid field had been going on for centuries, and the operations in the large planetoid had been restarted only slightly more recently. Time had chewed away at whatever polish had gone into the multitude of facilities that converged on the various asteroids, and the main planetoid, leaving a hodgepodge of constructions and a labyrinth of semi-interconnected tunnels and shafts. Parts of the facility were sanded down to a perfectly flat surface by the thousands, millions, of steps that had crossed them, while other areas were little more than crude paths, unfinished, no more than holes bored into the rock. State-of the-art mining droids toiled next to disheveled models that probably had been out of service for generations. A junk dealer would have had a field day on Peragus, and an antiques dealer could have shifted through some piles of random parts and possibly made more money selling odds and ends than the station made in weeks worth of mining.

Many had argued that Peragus needed to be closed down, but Rico had personally seen to it that the place stayed open and operational. Monetarily, the place chugged along at a steady pace, and barring some major discovery was unlikely to make anyone a rich man- but it didn't lose the company any money either. A lot of that was a testament to the men and women and aliens who toiled here, making due with less, in often unfavorable conditions. That was one of the reason Rico was here- to reward that wherewithal. The bonuses would cut somewhat into Peragus's profit margins, but the company’s success elsewhere made the change nothing more than a rounding error.

But there was another reason Rico ensured Peragus remained open.

Peragus was a veritable, natural minefield, with highly explosive asteroids floating on erratic orbits due to the various larger planetoids each pulling on the smaller rocks. A series of sensors had been used to track these movements and calculate a safe course since the first facility in the system had been built, and a similar system existed today. Getting into Peragus without help from the inside was extremely difficult. It's remote location, coupled with such natural protection, Peragus was a logical location for a Union base of operations.

Rico had been leery about the original idea of a Union base in Belgardi territory, but in an effort to show his goodwill and trust in the beginning of his relationship with the organization, he had acquiesced to such a move. The site chosen had been a mined out asteroid in section of heavy activity. The Union had paid for every bit of the bases construction (though it was likely a portion of their funding had once been Belgardi assets) and maintained a small contingent their at all times. The asteroid boosted its own hangar bay for snubfighter, as well as hidden weapons emplacements and a shield generator. Those were however, unnecessary precautions, because the most deadly manmade object to come anywhere close to Peragus (with the exception of a Belgardi cruiser now and then) were the large automated drone barges that Belgardi used primarily to handle its shipments.

The interior of that outpost was much nicer than the patchwork that passed for a facility on the larger planetoid. Much safer too. On the Belgardi facility, it was extremely dangerous to carry military grade weapons in some of the less finished tunnels, as they could react with small bits of Peragian fuel rather violently. Explosions had been a danger on Peragus for centuries, yet sadly, many people refused to learn anything from history. In the Union outpost however, there would be no such fears.

Rico left a few minutes after finishing his speech. The celebration carried on merrily as he left, and he doubted that anyone would miss him. They would remember he had brought them gifts, and given them a pay raise. No one would even remember he left right after doing those things.

The shuttle ride to the Union outpost was extremely short, but not uneventful. The asteroids swirled with an extreme randomness, and the pilot had to take evasive maneuvers several times, and that was complicated by the numerous other objects that remained in close proximity to the shuttle. Rico knew his heart rate had jumped significantly up during a few close calls.

Landing was just as bad, because the hangar bay was concealed, and only by approaching it at a certain angle would his vessel by allowed to land. The pilot was talented, but even so, it took three passes to get it right, all the while jinxing to avoid space rocks ready to smash holes in the small craft. When the shuttle touched down, Rico let out a sigh of relief. The pilot, garbed in a Belgardi uniform, but also a Union operative, just smiled. It was obvious he hadn't been nervous during the flight- either that, or he was upholding the unwritten pilot's code that prevented pilots from expressing any sort of weakness to those he flew. Rico didn't care though; the man could be as cocky as he wanted, but the trip was not one Rico wanted to repeat anymore than he had to.

Stepping off the shuttle and onto a hard, solid surface was relaxing. Rico had traveled alone- officially he was still on Peragus II. Anyone trying to reach him would be told he was busy with official matters on the mining facility. He had even left his droideka on the Immolator, a true sign of his trust in the Union. The pilot had slipped away, and so Rico was alone. Looking around, unsure of what to do, or where to go he decide he might as well wait for the welcoming party. He didn't have to wait long.

About a minute after Rico stepped of the landing ramp, a door on the far end of the hangar opened, and three men entered. Well, from a distance, it looked like three men. As they briskly moved across the smooth permacrete surface of the hangar, Rico decided to reappraise his assessment of the figures approaching him. The two flanking figures were humanoid in shape, but Rico would have been hard-pressed to identify them as humans. They wore combat fatigues, visored helmets, and had numerous pieces of armor covering vital sections of the body. They both carried large, deadly looking weapons, but they didn't look like standard blasters to Rico. Their motions were very rigid, almost mechanical, which added to the air of inhumanity that Rico got as he watched them approach.

The man in the middle however, Rico knew he was definitely human. He had seen that man before, though he knew that the same couldn't be said of himself. The man walked calmly and surely despite, his cane not touching the ground, nor his bespectacled eyes staring anywhere but forward. It was almost as if he wasn't blind.

"Welcome Mr. Belgardi. I'm glad you could come so quickly, we have much to discuss."

Tir Essias's voice was soothing, but also sounded as if a considerable amount of power backed up whatever he said. Rico knew in this instance, that the voice was not a deception.

Rico nodded, instinctively, as the Union man could not see that movement. To Rico’s surprise, Tir Essias seemed to acknowledge the gesture.

"Let us go then."

Slightly startled, Rico followed the trio into the heart of the base.

Rico strolled slowly after Tir Essias and the two (soldiers, bodyguards?) armed figures at his sides. Despite his blindness, the pace of the groups' steps told Rico that Tir Essias was leading them deeper into the interior of the complex. On occasion, the man's cane touched the smooth surface of the base's hallway, but it almost seemed as if those motions were decorative flourishes. And all the while he carried on speaking to Rico.

"We've finished our analysis of the information you've given us, and reached some very interesting conclusions. However, these conclusions..."

While Rico had been entertaining his employees, the Immolator had been tightbeaming all of the raw data on the Pavo Prime incident to the Union complex. The ship's crew hadn't been aware where they were transmitting- nor what they had been transmitting. The orders had been what was known as “code DFT”, direct from the top. Employees were trained so that in that situation they followed orders to the letter, and asked no questions. Rico trusted that his men would not divert from their training. He paid his men well enough to expect obedience.

"... this is confirmed by our own recent..."

The group rounded a corner, and Rico noticed another pair of the rifle wielding guards standing erect at either sides of a doorway. Rico had never seen anything like them before, and for some reason they perked his interest. As he walked past them, he noticed that the two door guards stood like statues, totally still, even as he walked right next to them. Rico couldn't see a face behind their headgear, but he wondered if their eyes had even followed him as he moved past them into the room.

"Please, sit."

Tir spun grandly, his cane extending outward to increase his presence. The room appeared to be some sort of conference area. Rico took a seat in one of the chairs. Rico watched as the two masked guards suddenly turned simultaneously, and left the room. Rico wondered if they had been order to do so previously, or if Tir Essias's sudden spin had been a silent command, because the Union man had not ordered them out.

"Mr. Belgardi, let me be frank with you."

Tir Essias's face was honed in on Rico as he talked, and his visage commanded attention. The dark glasses shielded his eyes, but Rico felt as if they were burning into him. Rico felt compelled to stare back, though Tir Essias would receive none of the intent from the gesture.

"We have ourselves a difficult situation."

Rico nodded, internal realized how pointless such body language was with a blind man.

"The Galactic Coalition knows of the existence of the Union."

The Galactic Coalition?!?

"And they know that Belgardi is involved."

Confusion racked Rico's mind.

"What? The Coalition?" I don't.."

"Mr. Belgardi, the facts are the facts. The information you provided merely backs up what we had already inferred from various sources. The explosives used are standard issue in the GC military... tissues samples from the repulsor plates are from several alien species whose homeworlds are staunch members of the GC... the melee damage."

Tir Essias pressed a button on his cane. A hologram shot out of the center of the table. The footage was not particularly high quality, but it was visible enough.

"That was caused by one of those, or so we believe."

The tape focused in on an unusual looking alien Rico had never seen before.

"This is footage of an Azguard.... we obtained it from an Imperial interrogation session during the recent galactic war."

Rico couldn't imagine how such a task had been done, but Tir Essias spoke of it lightly.

"Highly secretive race- but if they are involved, you know the Coalition is."

Rico looked at the footage. It had changed from a video feed to what was obviously a computer-generated model of an Azguard. Suddenly huge claws shot out of the images arm. Fiercesome looking tools.

"The GC believes it is some sort of moral bastion. They see themselves as the galaxies white knights, the protectors of all that is good."

Tir Essias smiled evilly, and arched his eyebrows.

"They will not try and hide this knowledge. They have been after you for sometime now Mr. Belgardi. They will exploit this knowledge. Expose it for all to see."

The statement hit Rico with the force of a champion shockboxer's best punch.
The implication was startling.

"That would ruin me- my company! It.."

Rico had once lamented about the price he would pay for aligning himself with the Union. At that moment, he didn't realize how literally he would have to take that phrase.

"Yes, yes that's true."

Tir Essias spoke like that thought had just become apparent to him.

"But we have far greater problems than that. The Union's anonymity, its secrecy is paramount. We must act; act quickly and decisively."

He tapped his cane on the ground.

"And if we play our cards right... we can preserve at least a shard of that secrecy, and maybe even save your company while we're at it."

Peragus Orbit
Immolator Cruiser Immolator

"I understand Captain, that this is a major departure from our itinerary. I also know that as CEO of this company, I reserve the right to change my schedule as to benefit this company. A matter has come up that must be attended to."

"... but Bespin is expecting our arrival and this diversion will prevent us from making it on time. We have some critical personal to assess the damage done in the recent incident and they are expected..."

Rico's tone did not change much, but he laced his next statement with deadly venom.

"I understand Captain, that while you are technically an "employee" of this company, that you are a military officer whose responsibility is to listen to and carry out the orders of a superior. If you cannot fulfill your mandate, then take us to Bespin. At least then I can speak with Rellokator Torreigor, and have him find me someone who will follow orders."

The Captain looked like he was about to open his mouth to say something, but fell quickly silent. Though he tried to mask his annoyance he nodded to Rico and said,

"Yes Mr. Belgardi."

Then promptly turned and left. Rico watched him walk briskly away. He didn't like annoying his employees, but sometimes, forceful action was required. Rico had a high regard for the Belgardi Security Forces, and their rather hefty pay cut into Belgardi profit margins rather sizably. However, he considered the power they allowed Rico to wield, independent and above his companies financial and economic power, well worth the cost. Of course, sometimes the higher echelons were not very respectful of the Belgardi civilian contingent. Rico understood this, and excepted it is a fact of life- Security Force Personnel were a different class of employee- but trying to overrule the CEO of the company was where Rico had drawn the line. Even though Rico was CEO, the captain was very accustomed to receiving his orders from other military officers, and probably had never thought of Rico as his superior. The mention of Rellokator Torreigor, the man in overall command of the Belgardi Security forces, however probably struck a chord that the captain was used to following.

An announcement on the vessel’s comm system followed the departure of the captain by a few minutes. It announced general quarters for the duration of the passage through the Peragian asteroid field, and announced that the ship would subsequently enter hyperspace. Then, like an afterthought, it was announced that the ship would be traveling to a destination other than Bespin, though it didn’t name the location. Rico nodded as he listened to the announcement. Whoever was making it seemed to have no feelings one way or the other about the schedule change. That was a good sign, as it meant that not everyone on the Immolator was as desperate as the Captain to get to Bespin.

Rico himself was rather annoyed that he was delaying his mission to Bespin. The Imperial incursion to the valuable tinbanna gas mining planet was shrouded in confusion and Rico would have made it his first priority in other circumstances. The Galactic Coalition’s operation on Pavo Prime and his meeting with Tir Essias had however, overshadowed it for the time-being. The Empire merely wanted to retake a world that had been taken from it by another foreign power. The fact that it had been traded around two no less than three other factions complicated matters, but that situation could be handled diplomatically (though obviously at Bespin, it had bee settled with a skirmish). Rico’s other priority was much more dicey.

Not only was he infuriated that the GC had attacked his headquarters- worse, his private refuge!- but it was almost certain that the GC operatives had gleaned information from Rico’s computer detailing the existence the Union, and thereby linking Rico and Belgardi to that organization. Granted, all the GC had to go on was one file they had illegally stolen, and thus it was unlikely such allegations could be made public without having to answer how that information had been acquired, but the underlying notion that the shroud of secrecy over both the Union and Rico’s deal with them was lifted caused major repercussions. Thus, on Peragus, Tir Essias had detailed a course of action that must be undertaken to protect both the secrecy of the Union, but also provide cover for Belgardi. Rico had readily agreed, out of both fear and anger toward the GC.

But the pieces in the plan had not totally fallen into place. Two major problems had to be dealt with to ensure the success of Tir Essias proposal. Both required Rico Belgardi to do some persuading. Both also required haste, because if the GC moved first then all was lost. Rico was hoping he could accomplish both tasks relatively quickly- though the stubborn Captain had almost wrecked the plan just minutes ago.

Rico had returned to his private quarters as the Immolator passed through the deadly Peragian asteroid belt. Of course, the passage had been safe, as the mining station kept up to date drift charts and constantly beamed maneuvering information to any friendly ship entering or exiting the field. Still, even then, any number of factors could have set an asteroid off course and hurtling for the Immolator . An impact with a high-explosive Peragian asteroid would not have been pretty. Thankfully, no such harrowing event occurred.

The voice came back over the ship’s comm and announced the safe passage of the ship through the field, and also that they would be entering hyperspace in 3 minutes time. This served as a notice to the crew that general quarters had been lifted. Rico was glad that announcement had come. It meant that another small hurtle had been leapt. As the Immolator maneuvered toward hyperspace, Rico activated a holo-projector that shot a huge floating sphere into the center of his room. The glistening blue globe rotated slowly as text cascaded below it.

Rico admired the sphere’s appearance, and then began reading the floating text below it:



Located in the…..

Manaan
Ahto City

Rico was surprised a conference room on one world was just like a conference room on another, ignoring any change in species or cultural preference. Whether on Pavo Prime, Coruscant or a number of worlds in between, the general set-up remained the same. Thus it was no surprise to Rico that the Selkath operated in much the same way.

A large table dominated the center of the room, obviously a conference table, but curved and organic, and obviously of Selkath manufacture. The chairs seemed to have come from the same designer. Such designs would not have been unusual on Mon Calimari, or Kamino, and Rico wondered if inhabitants of water dominated worlds were more naturally inclined to such flowing lines and loosely defined shapes. He might have given it more thought, but his mind had jumped from water-dominated worlds to his descent to Ahto City.

Manaan's ocean was much more placid than many primarily water worlds, and Atho City floated upon the gently rolling waves with little difficulty. Structurally sound perhaps, but its former majesty had long ago eroded. The city was old- archaic- and showed its age very visibly. Rico could see that centuries of waves battering upon the city had done more harm than good, and general wear and tear that came with being the planets only spaceport had helped to leave Ahto disheveled.

Of course, Ahto must have been dilapidated for some time, as its prominence as a major destination in the galaxy had waned long ago. Once a center for both import and export, Ahto handled more tourists now than anything, though not too many of them came, as the planet was basically devoid of landmasses and thereby unsuitable for most of the galaxies residents. The Selkath economy was rather poor and stagnant, a condition that was only lessened by the Selkath's own natural affinity for their life under the sea. No matter what, as a people the Selkath would never starve, but without some form of boost, they would continue a their current tailspin away from prosperity.

Even the conference room Rico now sat in had seen better days. The walls had once been vibrant and polish, as evidenced by spots of pristine condition, but it seemed neglect or simply disuse had taken its toll. The once garish walls had dulled and seemed dusty, as if the room had just been opened after centuries of being locked away. Come to think of it, Rico wasn't entirely certain that hadn't been the case.

[Shall we begin?]

A Selkath at the head of the table had stood up and spoken in his native tongue. Like the vast majority of humans, Rico had a rather difficult time or understanding the Selkath language, and so he was hearing the conversation via a protocol droid. On the contrary, while their physiology made it nigh impossibly to speak Basic, many Selkath could understand it just fine, and so Rico could speak for himself.

The other Selkath murmured agreement, and Rico nodded. The room fell quiet quickly.

[On behalf of the Selkath, I wish to extend a warm greeting to Mr. Belgardi and welcome him to Ahto City.]

Rico had often heard of the Selkath's stubbornness and often-excessive vanity. The major event that had caused their economic decline had occurred hundreds of years had involved the Selkath's virtual monopoly in the medical industry, as their world was the only known produce of the healing substance kolto. Enamored of their own importance, they refused any allegiances with galactic power, and attempted to maintain independence and neutrality by threatening to shut of the supply of kolto to anyone who attacked Manaan. That worked for a surprising amount of time, until a combination of factors eliminated the power that threat held.

The Selkath began using that threat to increase profits, and thus increased the price of kolto, and bacta began to become commercially available. When people began demanding a lower price for kolto, the Selkath refuse, and reduced exports. Bacta gained a foothold, and from there on, the market for kolto dwindled into obscurity. The saddest state of affairs came at a point during the Old Republic when Manaan was actually IMPORTING BACTA, due to its inability to produce kolto for its own uses. The industry had shrunk to the point that the Selkath could not harvest and process enough for their own population. Though the situation was not as bad as it had been then, it wasn’t much better. Manaan exported less than .01 percent of what it had at the height of its exports, and most of that went to research institutions around that galaxy who were trying to determine new uses for the “obsolete” medical technology.

[We look forward with anticipation to a mutual agreement which will be beneficial to both parties.]

Rico smiled. The Selkath had a lot they could give Belgardi. Of course, over the years, others had come the planet looking to revitalize the planet and had been told off. The Selkath had refused to bend, and move away from their stubborn neutrality and quasi-isolationism. Rico knew there was a large chance that the Selkath would refuse his offer as well. He also knew that even if they accepted it, the chances of it lasting too long with the current leadership were slim to none. Rico understood that fully well. Getting the Selkath into any relationship would be a major victory… and Rico was wiling to tolerate less than generous terms for now. Because Rico Belgardi had ways to ensure that once involved with Belgardi, the Selkath would never become uninvolved.

“I am sure we can come to a satisfactory agreement, one beneficial to both sides.”

Rico smiled and looked invitingly at the Selkath arrayed in front of him. The aquatic species had always been adept at discerning the real truth from other speech. They had an affinity for subtle body language that could show the true meaning of a phrase. By the way several of the Selkath grimaced, they understood what Rico meant by his statement. Rico just smiled, ignoring the fact they knew he was out for his own interests.
The two sides dickered back and forth for hours. The Selkath displayed their usual stubbornness, but the way in which Rico handled it was better than most who tried to negotiate with the aquatic people. He conceded several points that the Selkath never expect him to acquiesce to, and lessened his demands when asked with only minimal fuss. Even the usually suspicious and perceptive Selkath couldn’t figure what Rico was doing with such lax negotiations. Progress was much swifter than they expected. Much to the surprise of those involved, a framework agreement quickly formed up.

As Rico prepared to leave the summit, a concrete deal had materialized. Satisfied with the basis of the agreement, Rico stunned the Selkath by signing his name to the only partially finished treaty. The deal guaranteed that at minimum kolto production would be revved up and Belgardi would handle the exportation. Other details remained to be negotiated, but as Rico boarded a shuttle to return to the Immolator, he was happy with what he had- a framework agreement. In fact, Rico was all smiles as he stepped off the exit ramp into the Immolator’s docking bay.

The smile remained as the battlecruiser jolted slightly and entered hyperspace…

Deep Space

The team sat in a pool of silence, the lights dimmed around the briefing table while the holoprojector showed the course of their target. The captain of the HeavyWeight, an Interdictor-Class Star-Destroyer scratched up from a distant corner of the Coalition, straightened his notes before speaking.

"Gentlemen. This is, as you know, a mission from the top-brass. Our information and 'assistance' has lead us to believe that Rico Belgardi may be the financial backer of this 'Union'. Now, we don't know enough yet to confirm suspiscions, but of all our leads the Union is the most promising as the backer of the GLF. As per protocol, I cannot cite our sources or reasons due to our proximity to our target, but needless to say we have had 'expert analysis'.

"The operation must go off without a hitch. Our orders are to have you ready for insertion the instant they pass throug the region. Punch up the picutre of Rico's vessel again."

The course information was replaced with a 3-D image of the ship that they seeked.

"Once it's disabled, you'll have all of half an hour before we need to leave, as its' quite likely they'll call on back-up and we don't want to be seen. Remember, we've made every effort to conceal our Coalition status - we wiped off symbols, changed transponder signals, the works. If there's any remaning evidence on your equipment, make sure to remove it.

"Right, any questions? Then get to your ship."

Their ship wasn't exactly classy - a Stealth Intruder, which hadn't been mass-produced since the amalgamation and - let's face it, fall - of the Outer Rim Soverinty. Although the outside was meticulously maintained, the inside was gritty and out-dated. But it would get the job done.

The count-down continued in silence, until - on the second - the Immolator was yanked hard out of hyperspace.

As it did, taken by surprise, a quartet of Haven-Class cruisers began raining Ion on the ship from behind. Lights began to flicker and the thrusters sputtered slightly as the Ion energy steadily fried circuits on the back of the ship, and laser-fire peeled away parts of armour before the shields rose to deflect.

It took a moment or two before the Immolator's crew had time to man their stations and return fire, and in that time the Havens ceased fire and instead boosted energy to engines and shields, allowing them to avoid almost all return fire by staying in a blind-spot at the back of the ship.

With such heavy distractions, it was relatively easy for the Stealth Infiltrator to make its' way covertly towards the Immolator's underbelly. The captain of the HeavyWeight stood on the bridge of his vessel, nestled safely between a pair of MC-90s on loan from the Calamari. He could no longer see or detect the passage of the team, but they were on the way.

"Remain outside of sensor and visual range for now, but make sure our gravity well keeps them hemmed in." His staff nodded and went about their tasks. "We have half an hour."

The Immolatpr jolted and tossed Rico out of the chair in which he had been relaxing. Cursing, Rico picked himself up off the carpet covered bulkhead. His head hurt, and he touched his side to find it was tender. He hoped it was only a bruise, but he didn't have time to go get medical attention. He had bigger problems.

Unscheduled hyperspace revision is never a good thing. It means that either A) Your ship has suffered major hyperdrive failure and is likely to be stranded in the middle of no where, B) A massive metor or other uncharted foriegn object had popped up in your ships path, and to save yourself from destruction the nav computer had reverted prematurely or C) A gravity well equppied vessel had forced your ship to revert.

None of the options were good. Rico knew that options A and B were highly unlikly, especially when taking into account that fact that the Immolator was a state-of the-art vessel travelling across an often used hyperroute.

Which left option C.

Rico commed the bidge.

"What the hell just happened."

The ship's captain looked a bit surprised, but didn't seem overwhelmed.

"Gravity well sir. We're getting hit pretty hard, but we're fighting back."

Rico nodded. The fall to the floor had sent adrenaline pumping through his systm, which seemed to be overidding his usuall fearfulness. He decided it was best to act while he was still decisive.

"Activate the Deciever. That should throw them for a loop. And send the distress call.. Pavo Prime can't be too far aw"

The Captain interrupted.

"The call has already been sent and we've received a reply. The Rellokater himself is leading a rescue force."

Rico nodded, but felt his hand begin to tremble. His adrenaline high was quickly wearing off.

"Hold them off as long as you can captain. I'm sure the Rellokater wil arrive in time."

The captain nodded. Then he spoke again.

"The majority of the enemy fire is ion cannons. They seem to be trying to disable the vessel."

Rico understood the implications of that. He startedto shake more visibly.

"Prepare ship security. I.."

He had a thought.

"I'm going to move to another location on the vessel. Don't allocate me any security- my droideka will handle that. However, lock down the bridge and protect it."

The Captain started to protest, but Rico gave him a look and he didn't voice his opinion. Rico saluted and cut the transmission.

Rico went to his quarter's closet. Flinging open the door, he pressed a panel that should not have been able to be pressed, and a compartment opened up. Grabbing the items in there, he ran out of his quarters at a unusually hieghtened pace...

The Immolator was spinning in space, maddeningly trying to bring its' guns to bear at the swifter ships sticking to its' rear. Whenever the Immolator began to gain ground and open fire, one ship would tear away from the group and go the opposite direction, forcing them to divert their fire to keep the rogue ship at bay and leaving them open to further attacks in the rear.

Into this dangerous situation, the Stealth Infiltrator swooped. With grace and patience, it approached the side of the Immolator. With the much larger ship occupied with battle, it was a simple matter to clamp on.

The team quickly sliced a hole through the side of the ship, using energy blades based off of a lightsaber pattern designed specifically for such a task. They left the blades behind, and the six figures walked into the torn-up airlock.

Immeadietly, they came face to face with a half-dozen security troopers running down the corridor, completely taken aback by the sudden apperance of boarders. But they didn't have time to so much as scream. THe team were experienced, and well-trained. In a flash stun-shots knocked their would-be opponants unconcious.

J-1 could hear buzzing from the headset on what appeared to be an officer. He lifted it from his enemy's head and put it upon his own.

"...clear? I repeat, is the fourth hall clear? Over."

J-1 maximized intereference to help disguise his voice "Corridor is clear, minor technological intereference caused by Ion hit. You might be recieving faulty signals, as some armour was blasted off and the Ion shot fried the circuits."

The team split into two, with J-1/3 going one way, and J-4/6 going the other. They had their target, and began seeking in ernest.