Certainly there was no understanding, no meeting of the minds, on the world called Chandaar. There was only the devastation of one mind-set by another, reproduced by its originators on many other worlds. Too many other worlds, according to some. Not nearly enough, according to those who had inflicted it in place, its proof firmly burned into the resistant soils of Chandaar.

They had been preparing for such moments for a very long time. They had burst out of the Tion Hegemony to impose themselves on the civilized worlds of the Cronese Mandate with a forcefulness and cool brutality that was as stunning in its single-mindedness as it was in its efficiency. Chandaar was not the first of their conquests, nor would it be the last. As long as there were worlds to be freed, as long as humans and aliens lived who dwelled in ignorance of their true destiny, the Black Dragon Empire would continue with their work.

General Grevious knew this better than anyone. Clad in his pale cloak and armored mask that was intended as much to instill fear and intimidate any who cast eyes upon them as it was to protect its wearer, he stood scowling thoughtfully at the scene of desolation and redemption that flamed below him. The fires were beginning to die out. While the capital had been taken, opposition to the balm and comfort his people brought remained strong in other cities and in isolated pockets across the planet. There was still much to do on Chandaar.

Nevertheless, by craft or cajoling, by force or by bribery, the faith was advanced. Chandaar was only the latest, not the last. No time was to be wasted here. As soon as the last pockets of resistance had been eliminated, the armada would move to the next, carrying enlightment and revelation to the disbelieving.

But first, there was much work to be done.

Commander Kix Davin stood nearby. A fine commander, as dedicated as one could ask for and a superb solo fighter in his own right. While his attention was focused on General Grevious, that of the saintly Dameun priest, who stood nearby, was directed at the destruction below.

"General Grevious?"

The cyborg General turned. "Yes, Commander?"

"Chandaar's network has been completely isolated and taken. Every single piece of information they possessed has now been acquired."

"Excellent, Commander. Is there anything to report from the information?"

Davin nodded. "Yes, General. It seems Chandaar's King had secretly sent off an encrypted transmission to a location outside of the Cronese Mandate, asking for aide."

Grevious narrowed his eyes behind the pale mask. "Where does the location trace?"

"The Centrality, General," Davin answered. "A planet named Scillal. Our decryption nodes decipher it as a call for help to its leader."

"Who is this leader?" Grevious demanded.

"Unknown, General," he hesitated to answer. "The message breaks off when we cut off all communications to and from Chandaar."

"Then I believe we must inform our fleet to rally toward the Centrality. Better to stifle help than to expect an enemy at our doorstep."

"Yes, General," Davin saluted. "I will inform my men that we begin evacuation of Chandaar once all pockets of resistance is eliminated."

"Do so, Commander."

Turning, General Grevious moved up the boarding ramp on which he stood. His commanders and the chief spiritual advisor of the Dameuns followed. Once they were within the shuttle, the massive portal, through which they had briefly emerged to view in person the horrendous yet beautiful vista below, closed tightly behind them...

<b>Scillal Designs Galactic Headquarters</b>

The pungent aroma of imported Corellian insence fragranted the lavish quarters of Chairman Thon Obien as his obease body sucked down the noxious smoke of a thick cigar. Transparent viewing ports on the opposing side of his office gave way to a symphony of interstellar lights, most of which were tiny robots hastily going about their chores around the immense Scillal Shipyards. Scillal Designs had over the last several centuries become <i>the</i> most prosperous shipwright in the Centrality, and later, Thon fantasized as he puffed on his cigar with a satisfied grin, the entire <i>Galaxy</i>.

For nearly two decades he had presided over the multi-billion credit corporation <i>serving</i> the needs of the Centrality and it's local populace. And of course on occasion, the needs of rebel leaders within the Tion systems and Cronese Mandate. Thon managed to lift the immense weight of his body with the help of his durasteel desk, and waddled his way toward the viewing ports to admire his latest completion, the <i>Akorec</i>-Class Strike Cruiser <i>Basilisk II</i>, a <i>gift</i> for Her Excellency Stephanie Sapphire on the anniversary of the origional <i>Basilisk's</i> destruction.

Rolling the cigar around in his mouth with his two chubby fingers, a devious grin smeered across his face as the starship's lights flickered and then illuminated it's inner-most bowels. Months of hard work and construction had at last paid off.

"Sir."

Thon's obease body jumped out of suprise as a voice behind him interrupted the serenity of the moment. As Thon twirled back to the viewing port, an disappointed look assaulted the once devious expression on his face as the <i>Akorec</i>-Class Strike Cruiser gracefully danced across the smooth surface of space for the first time. With a sigh, he returned his attention to the man at the far corner of the room.

"What is it William?" Thon asked as he continued puffing on his cigar, pretending as though he hadn't missed something he had waited months to see.

"We've intercepted a distress signal from the Cronese Mandate world of Chandaar. The message cuts off as though it were jammed from the surface of the planet itself. Before it cut off, we managed to get this..."

William fully clad in his Chief of Security uniform stepped forward with one hand behind his back, and one extended forward holding a smooth gray datapad. "Initial intelligence reports indicate that the message was sent by the Cronese King, sir."

"The King of the Cronese Mandate, eeh?" Thon grinned. "That chubby bastard finally get himself in over his head?"

William couldn't help but smirk, not because of the joke, but rather the thought of someone as obease as Thon Obien calling another man fat.

"Perhaps sir, but until then I recommend that we send a small detachment of ships to investigate the source of the problem. The last time there was trouble in the mandate, it spilled over into the Centrality."

"That was almost a century ago, Will!"

"Before Her Excellency Miss Sapphire was declared Scrivinir, sir."

Thon raised an eyebrow, and William nodded. Looking around briefly, as if investigating the room for any uninvited guests, Thon continued. "You don't suppose we could send the small fleet of <i>Akorec</i> Cruisers we've been working on into the Mandate for a little test run, do you <i>Captain</i>?"

William laughed and nodded his head. "I doubt that the incompetance of Miss Sapphire will be much of a problem. Were she handling the situation herself, she would likely evacuate the entire Centrality at the first sign of battle, reguardless of our enemy."

"Then it's settled. Send the Centrality's shipment out for a test run... we wouldn't want our dear Scrivinir to warrant ineffective warships now would we?"

As the devious grin returned to Thon's lips, William saluted and quickly exited the room.

<b>Cronese Mandate / Centrality Border</b>

"Sensors."

"Online Captain, we're not picking anything up at the moment."

William sat back in the smooth confinds of the command chair on the bridge of the small strike cruiser, freshly comissioned as <i>Basilisk II</i>.

"Scratch that!" the tactical officer scrambled at his station with a look of both worry and fear on his face.

"We have three ships incoming!"

"Status?"

"One Imperator-Class Star Destroyer, two Akorec-Class Strike Cruisers.... make that four Akorec-Class Strike Cruisers sir!"

William stood with a suprised look on his face as the Imperator-Class Star Destroyer reverted from to real space just a few thousand meters from the ship's position, well within the borders of the Centrality.

"They've established communications with us sir, encryption code four-seven-seven." William nodded his approval to the message.

"Unidentified craft, this is Fleet Admiral Lehhett of the Centrality's Naval Forces. You are required to identify yourselves."

William breathed a sigh of relief as he slowly picked up his com-link. "This is Captain of the Scillal Designs Guard William Warner on an exercise mission for the Centrality's newly comissioned vessels."

No one talked as a brief pause held the ship hostage as the immense figure of the Imperator grew closer, flanked on either side by a small fleet of Akorec-Class Cruisers. William could almost feel his adams apple swelling within his throat as he watched in silence.

"You're a long way from home, Captain Warner......."

In the pristine silence of space, the armada of the Black Dragon Empire blossomed into the Centrality border like a beautiful, deadly flower.

The formation of capital ships sprang into view with startling suddenness, trailing fire-white wakes of twisted space and bristling with weapons. Angular Tion-class Star Destroyers guarded fat-hulled Farfalen Shoto fleet battlecruisers, while the Cutter-class assault cruisers, their mirror finishes gleaming, took the point.

A halo of smaller ships appeared at the same time. The Kessel-class pickets among them quickly deployed in a spherical defensive screen. As the Tion Star Destroyers firmed up their formation, their flight decks quickly scrambled to prepare their Deathgliders for a possible offensive.

Unlike so much of the humankind who had spread explosively throughout the galaxy, the Black Dragon Empire were driven by genuine purpose beyond the need to merely exist. They believed fervently in their work, and went about it with a determination and competence that was breathtaking to behold. In the majority of cases, literally breathtaking. Furthermore, there was no meanness in them, no suggestion of brutality for its own sake or of sadism. Like all true believers since the beginning of time, they saw only good arising out of the subjection they inflicted. Everything they did was for the benefit of the conquered, they knew. Nor was their great work devoid of irony.

For it was the dead who triumphed by passing on, while only the most dedicated forced themselves to carry on the work by continuing to live-- until due time.

On board and within the bowels of the Tion Star Destroyer Necros, uniformed figures worked silently at their stations. Their surroundings were darkly baroque, a reflection of the Imperium's affection for design as well as efficiency. Believing that everything ought properly to echo their deeply held values-- a tenet of the faith that extended all the way back to the founding of the Imperium on Dameo-- even the battle command center had been constructed with these in mind.

One figure in particular commanded attention. Pacing concernedly but unworriedly back and forth, checking readouts and statistics with his own eyes, Fleet Admiral Vaako followed the progress of the armada's jump from hyperspace to the Centrality's border. The Dameun hyperdrive computers had detected a series of signals in the jump route and had pulled the fleet back to realspace in order to avoid a deadly collision. Having striven to rise to the exalted position of Fleet Captain, it did not behoove him to surrender it voluntarily. By the edicts of his kind he was compelled to master all that it offered, by offering his talents to the cause. This he would continue to do.

Penetrating eyes glittered within a face that was lean without being drawn. As he passed one monitor station, its operator glanced up at him.

"All craft accounted for, Sir. Scopes have detected a series of signals ahead and have ascertained it as two fleets on the Centrality's borders."

The Fleet Admiral nodded tersely. The subtle appearance of his superior kept his posture rigid as he posed next to him.

"Has the fleet detected our presence?" General Grevious inquired in his mechanical inflection, eyeing the young officer at the monitor station.

"Negative. Although it will be a matter of time they will," he replied, glancing back at the display.

"Shall I raise our shields and go to battle stations?" Vaako questioned, turning to the General.

"No, Captain. Continue our fleet at sublight and let them detect us," he ordered. "If they react to our presence in a hostile manner, we strike quickly to avoid delay. If they open communication, it may be possible we spare our Imperium from opening another front in our expansion."

"Yes, General," Vaako bowed and pulled away to relay his orders.

As to its final outcome, General Grevious had no doubt. Some worlds and systems resisted the bringing of the message more obstinately than others. A few proved sensible and buckled under at the mere sight of the Black Dragon Empire's ships. Such worlds were much more to the General's taste. While they were to be admired for having reached a newer, higher state of being, dead resistance fighters were no use to the great cause. The deceased were to be envied, but could not be recruited.

"Approaching fleet ahead," the navigation offer announced...

Capital District - Erilnar

The clean crisp air of the Capital planet never ceased to amaze her as she carefully paced back and fourth through the plush surroundings of her quarters. Seemingly endless bouquets of red roses adorned a sharded vase as her smooth, delicate fingers graced their bulky pedals. How she loved flowers. They held such a strange grace and beauty deep within them, yet as they aged they revealed their true forms, a withered mess waiting to be cleaned up and replaced.

She stepped away from the vase, letting her thoughts sink in as she made her way toward the large white balcony that hung off of her quarters. Through the graceful dance of silky white curtains her slim feminine features glided in seemingly peaceful thought, though her thoughts dwelled on only the most catastrophic events; her pending assassination.

Like sands through an hour glass, her life slowly withered away before her, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Nothing she could do from the immense fleets of Scillal Designs from seizing the Capital. Nothing she could do about the hundreds of mutinous soldiers from seizing the very Capital District that she rested her weiry head in every night.

One man had stood behind her. One man had allowed her the chance to take what she believed in, and make it a reality. That man was Sris Lehhett, her adopted father. A single tear trickled down her cheek, and she quickly flicked it away. Tears were no symbol of power or of the divine right to rule. They were the symbol of weakness, and desperation.

For years, the Scrivinir's before her had managed to remain independant from the voracity of growing Empires and so-called Republics. They'd remained loyal to the Emperor during his most trying moments during the Rebellion, and the height of the New Republic. And following the resurrection of the New Order, they'd remained silent, observant and obedient of the Empire's will.... and yet, help had not come for her.

Her ascention had been one of benevolence, and of compassion for the welfare of the Centrality, and this was how they repaid her. An unconventional war had been waged since her first day in office. The ravenous greed of the Scillal Corporation, the Lords and Governors that had lain claim to the title before it was handed to her. Even local merchant warlords that had made a bid to buy power had become bitter enemies.

But then, there were her supporters. Admiral Sris Lehhett, her adopted father and the majority of the Naval and Armed Forces. The Capital Guard, and the Sorcerers of Tund (or what remained of them).

She clenched the life crystal around her neck tightly, feeling it's illuminating power surge through her veins; Pulsating much like the very blood of her father that still flowed freely within her, reminding her of her lost and forgotten childhood.

Patience... she reminded herself silently.

Patience....

Cronese Mandate / Centrality Border

"Admiral Lehhett, sensors indicate a massive presence of radiation within the atmosphere registering from coordinates three one three dash seven four. It appears that several ships are reverting to real space just inside of the borders of the Cronese Mandate, sir."

Sris Lehhett grumbled as he leaned back in his command chair rotating it's view toward tactical command just below him. A single nod was all of the confirmation he needed. "Have the opened a channel?" the Admiral asked, seemingly unquestioningly.

"No sir. In fact, I've never seen ships of this design before. They don't appear to be Cronese at all."

The Admiral raised a silvery grey eyebrow and forced his tired body forward.

"Really...."

Akorec-Class Cruiser Basilisk II

Captain William stood in silence, ever observant of the warships that had appeared at his bow. A smooth grin appeared behind his sinister lips as the strange, alien warships appeared behind Admiral Lehhett's fleet.

"Now is our chance. They're confused men, frightened."

William's advisors looked up at him with suprised looks on there faces, but did not speak out of fear of insubordination. "Raise shields and charge weapons."

"Yes sir."

"On my mark, open fire and prepare to withdrawl. We'll lour this bastard Scrivinir imposter and her fascist rebels into a war with whomever invaded the Cronese Mandate. In a few weeks, the people will demand her resignation, and His Excellency Lord Thon Obien will be made Scrivinir...."

William paused as his smile turned into a low greedy grunt of laughter.

"Fire!"

Imperator-Class Star Destroyer Regency

"What the hell?!"

The immense triangle figure listed with the impact of several turbolaser's against it's shields, the lights on teh command bridge flickering for a moment as the transparent durasteel viewing ports grew bright with the impact, and then dark again revealing a small fleet of Akorec-Class Cruisers retreating in the distance.

"Helm, bring us about. Tactical, find out where those shots came from! Communications, patch me through to those alien ships. Now!"

A series of "Yes sir's!" came throughout the bridge as the Admiral quickly returned to his position of command as the Star Destroyer gracefully came about to face the enemy warships.

"Communications open sir, I think."

"Unidentified Warships, you have entered the sovereignty of the Cronese Mandate, a friend and ally of the Centrality. Under section three seven four of the Cronese/Centrality Non-Aggression Pact, your warships are in violation of the Neutral Zone. By the Authority of Her Excellency Scrivinir Stephanie Sapphire, and myself, Admiral Sris Lehhett you are ordered to withdrawl immediately and cease all hostilities against The Centrality."
[/b]

The flagship of the Black Dragon Empire was rocked by cannon fire outside the viewports from the opposite fleet.

The navigation officer's taut voice called over his shoulder. "Sir, we're under attack!"

Admiral Vaako called to the crew pits below. "Sound battle stations," he said evenly. "Activate the tactical display. We need to know what we've got. Calmly, if possible."

On the bridge of the <I>Necros</i>, alarms were screaming, lights flashing, klaxons blaring, as the mammoth Tion Star Destroyer and its armada abruptly altered its momentum, trying to change course in time to engage the attacking Centrality fleet. Officers were running from battle stations to navigation controls; other ships in the armada could be seen through the viewports, splintering apart into battle formations, some slowing, some speeding up.

General Grevious ignored the sound of klaxons baying around the bridge as he observed the tactical displays coming online via holoprojector. The comm officer called out from his station. "Sensors are picking up a small fleet of <I>Imperator</i>-class Star Destroyers," the officer continued, his voice tense but under noticeably better control. "Plus at least three wings of unidentified Centrality fighters. Symmetric cloud vee-formation, coming in on our picket's vector. As well-- a small fleet of their cruisers has jumped into hyperspace."

Vaako swore under his breath. This wasn't good. They already had a head start by having a small group of their fleet escape to inform their presence. This would make the campaign harder to win, once the element of surprise was gone. "Run the <I>Necros</i> to full power, raise all shields and charge weapons to full," he called to the bridge officer. "Have our nearest battlecruisers open fire."

A small assortment of Tion DragonClaws veered forward and began attacking with lances of turbolaser fire and Wyvern cannons against the Imperators.

The comm officer spun back to him. "Admiral--"

Vaako cut him off with an upraised hand as he ordered another officer, still glacially calm. "Deathglider crews to their stations; activate PIM network systems." He then turned back to him. "What is it, Lieutanant?"

"Message from the Centrality fleet, sir. On audio only." The comm officer tapped a control and the message repeated. General Grevious stepped toward the Admiral's side and gazed at him as they both listened intently. Vaako returned the other's gaze without flinching, feeling a small flicker of annoyance brewing within himself.

"How dare they," he spat. "They attack first and dare to plead ignorance? Open a direct channel to the Centrality."

"Channel open, sir." The holocam projector came online.

"This is Admiral Vaako of the Black Dragon Empire," he said, his voice abruptly cold. "We come here in peace and you blatantly defy us this peace by launching an attack on us first." He hissed, "How dare you plead ignorance in your claims of us being the aggressors!"

He peered into the holocam. "As to your query about violating your Nuetral Zone, on the contrary, " Vaako announced cooly, "the Cronese Mandate is now under complete sovereignty of the Black Dragon Empire and as of this hour-- your Nuetral Zone is now hereby dissolved." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "Your section three-seven-four of your Non-Agression Pact no longer has precedence, as the Mandate no longer exists. Only the Black Dragon Empire."

The Admiral folded his arms as General Grevious towered beside him. "As Fleet Admiral of the Imperium, I now command you to stand down your weapons, lower your shields, and surrender your forces over to us. If you do not comply, I must take this aggressive action as an act of war and respond with open hostilities."

He nodded to his officer; the channel was cut off.

Admiral Vaako straightened his stance. "Nav officer, bring us to flank speed. Prepare to join the attack."

From the DragonClaws and Tion Star Destroyers, squadrons of BDE Deathgliders cut through the vacuum of space, searching for targets. They were met by Centrality fighters whose pilots were dedicated and well trained but most of whom lacked the kind of actual combat experience that had been mastered by their opponents. Nevertheless, they fought with determination and courage. Kills were scored by both sides. Like dying moths, ship after ship was struck, to curl and spiral its way finally into the cold depths of space.

The large central viewport was coming alive. Now the massive support armada of cutters and pickets could be seen flying in perfect, regimental formation, out from the protection of the larger capital ships in two behemoth flanking waves-- heading toward the Centrality fleet from both sides, like the pincers of a deadly scorpion.

"Give them cover!" Vaako ordered. "We must not give them time to respond to our offensive!" He spoke again to his comm officers, as yet another detonation rumbled the <I>Necros</i>. "All ships, attack the Imperators and press forward." The fleet immediately responded by hails of turbolaser fire.

Deflectors shields were knocked out as one of the Imperator’s lost their generators. Several fusion beam cannons from the small group of DragonClaws fired simultaneously at it. An enormous explosion blew off the front of the Star Destroyer along with its bridge tower. Unbalanced, its command center destroyed, it lurched to one side as emergency navigation systems struggled to correct and maintain a proper angle and rate of speed. They failed as destruction ripped through the rest of the craft. It promptly blew up, and almost as immediately, imploded as its ion propulsion system collapsed in on itself. The result temporarily lit space around it, blinding everything and everyone not equipped with appropriate protection.

Even while deeply engrossed in analyzing the tactical displays, General Grevious could venture homilies. "The body flails, even after the head’s been chopped off."

"For now, perhaps," Admiral Vaako agreed. "But only for now..."

Two Hours Later, Erilnar Capital District

Her body trembled, not out of fear or fury. She couldn't explain why she trembled during times of hardship or of loss. At this point, it was seemingly involuntary. Stephanie clenched the life crystal around her neck tightly as the recorded interstellar communications continued to play throughout the silence of her quarters as three military advisors loomed over her with stern faces of disgust. Faces that screamed 'Give the Executive Order.' The bloodcurdling screams of men and women aboard the Imperator-Class Star Destroyer Regency filled the room, almost as if their ghostly voices were still present. All of it sent a chill down her spine.

"Our sources in Scillal Designs say that Alien Warships arrived during a skirmish between Captain William, and Admiral Lehhett. William fled while your father stayed behind to defend the neutral zone."

The well-dressed General Dresdin stepped forward as he spoke. His broad shoulders loomed over her, blocking the last light of the room much like the yearly eclipse on Erilnar as she continued to tightly clench the glowing life crystal around her neck. Her fair skin turned a insipid as she stood and turned her back to him as a single tear fell down her lip.

The once pristine horizon of lakes and hints of lush green land mass that once comforted her offered little console as she fell short of breath.

Not again...

"Lord Sris Lehhett was killed when the Regency was destroyed." General Dresdin announced, almost as if he had read her mind. The true father of Stephanie Sapphire was no secret, nor was it a secret that Admiral Lehhett had been her foster father for her entire adult life. He had taught her the ways of the Galaxy, raised her as if she were his own and at the same time, preserved the memory of her true father.

"I see..." Stephanie's voice cracked as she spoke, though she managed to retain composure. She was a leader, and this was the time for leadership.

"How many of the ships in the fleet have reported damage?" She asked as she took her seat and began looking through several metallic datapads.

"Damage?" The General almost laughed out of frusteration. "Damage?! They've all been destroyed! You dissolved the military creation act three years ago, your Excellency, incase you've forgotten. If I may quote you directly.... you announced that there was 'no longer a need for excessive and expensive military equipment that would further tarnish the peaceful reputation of the Centrality.' Well this is war! War!"

"How do we know that these alien invaders are hostile?"

"Invaders tend to be hostile, Miss Sapphire."

She rolled her eyes at her own deviation. "How many warships do we have ready to deploy?"

"Since Admiral Lehhett's strike fleet has been annihilated, according to my calculations.... four Capital-class warships in the Oseon System, a small number of picket and support ships here at the Capital, and Scillal Designs' warships which they've pledged to us if we can keep the invaders from taking the planet Scillal."

"Let Scillal fall. They're more of a threat at this point than the invaders are."

The General opened his mouth to contend her orders, but wasquickly put down as she held her hand, demanding silence. The Scrivinir folded her legs as she tossed aside one of the datapads and smiled.

"I have a plan...."

Scillal Designs Galactic Headquarters, Scillal

The immense alien warfleet slowly crept forward through the pitch black vacuum of space, unopposed as the planet Scillal's faint green glow grew closer. The immense production facilities seemed to illuminate the planet's surface as a substitute sun, though the dominant Scillan Star loomed in the far distance, offering it's life-creating forces to the planet's surface.

Three Akorec-Class Strike Cruisers stood in opposition to the massive Black Dragon Imperial Fleet, seemingly unscaved by the expert combat skills of Admiral Lehhett. Tiny black pockmarks littered the enemy flagship's hull, though it's fully opperational battle potential had not gone unnoticed.

Deathgliders crwwed their stations as alien starfighters swarmed around the tiny opposition fleet of Scillal Designs, flaged by the once comicly named Basilisk II, a harmless joke against the Centrality government that now refused to protect them.

"Open a channel to the alien warfleet."

"Open sir, though they may not reply. Rumor has it that they annihilated Admiral Lehhett's fleet in about two hours."

Captain William nodded as he swollowed hard.

"This is Captail William, commander of the Scillal Defense Forces and Representative of Lord Thon Obien, CEO of Scillal Designs and Governor of the planet Scillal. It is with a great deal of grief that I announce our surrender."

Wandering to his left, General Grevious paused before the tactical holographic display. As the battle for control of the planet below began to wane, he was joined by a second figure, one even more at ease, and more richly garbed in his black uniform. The two figures acknowledged each other with a glance.

"All those poets, on all those worlds: the ones who spoke of battle being such an unsightly thing?" The cyborg General nodded at the view presented by the holoprojector. "They never stood here, did they? Strange how, from a distance, war can actually be beautiful."

Next to him, Admiral Vaako stood quietly as he considered the tiny flashing lights in the distance past the viewports. None of it was new to him. He had observed the same on numerous ship to ship battles. Their victory here would be no different. It could not be otherwise.

"Sir," the comm officer called from below the crew pit. "Message from a Lord Thon Obien, the Governor of Scillal. He wishes to announce their surrender to us."

Vaako's face twisted into a grim smile of satisfaction. General Grevious showed no emotion of the news as he spoke again.

"Perhaps this time," Grevious murmured in his mechanical tone, "converts will be easier to come by. It is discouraging when so many die without having known why they have lived. Without having been given the truth." A mechanical hand glinted in the light as he gestured to the hologram. "Good fighters, these. Not their fault they cannot conceive of what they are up against. Those that survive will make good converts to the cause." Turning away from the tactical display, he eyed the Admiral of the fleet. "Care should be taken to preserve as many as possible."

The Admiral shrugged slightly. "The work must be finished first. And lessons delivered where necessary."

"Indeed," agreed the cyborg General. "However, it is a wise man who, when cold, seeks other means of warming himself besides setting his clothes on fire."

It was not quite a grin that appeared on the Admiral's aquiline visage. But the General could see that his observation had been duly noted.

"Comm officer, inform Lord Thon Obien to stand down all oppression and prepare for our arrival to the surface," he ordered. "Make it clear that if any of our forces are met with resistance, we will target one of his cities for annihilation for their disobedience."

"Yes, sir."

"I see it all now," the leader of the Black Dragon Empire's fleet murmured. "This, world, Scillal, first. Soon, the rest of the Centrality, for with their primary world taken, the others will fall with nary a fight." He did not raise his voice. He was only stating what he believed to be self-evident...