(The events of this thread take place after those of 'The living and the dead'.)

Despayre

"Shuttle TK-411 on final approach. Requesting deactivation of the security cordon now."

The voice over the speakers was distinctly Imperial; the ckipped, precise accent of a young officer born to a Coruscant nobleman. Probably, the Security Head thought to himself, arrananged with a nice, cushy shuttle position by his father.

"Copy that, TK-411. Recieving indentifier codes now."

Gone was the vocal code clearance nonesense. The Empire had learned a lot since Endor. One of those things was that security was paramount - there would be no repeat of the Death Star disaster today.

The scans of the approaching shuttle lit up the screen. No trace of any hidden weapons or contraband. The scans matched the manifest.

"All right, TK-411. You're clear to enter. Keep to your assigned route, I don't need to tell you what happens if you don't."

There was an acknowledgement from the shuttle pilot, and the com light went out.

With a thin smile on his face, the Security Chief leaned back in his chair. Then, turning to the man next to him, he said, "Alert the Commander. He asked to be informed when He arrived."

The second arrival in as many days to the Executor III was not met with the same fanfare of the Lord Regent. A single squadron of Stormtroopers, and the Orbital Commander of Despayre, who was by default Captain and Commander of the Super Star Destroyer, stood by in the smaller landing bay as an Imperial Sentinel class shuttle set down.

A shuttle that would have been indistinctive had it not bourne the black coat and silver crest of the Ubiqtorate.

"Captain!" The OC called out as the ship's ramp touched the deck. "Welcome to the Executor!"

In truth, the Executor III was not a sistership to Darth Vader's famed command ship. Considerably shorter, at just shy of thirteen kilometres compared to Vader's eighteen, the Super Star Destroyer was nonetheless one of the largest ships in the Empire's fleet.

Line-Captain Stremmins Joda could not contain his smile as he found himself in the bay of the the most powerful ship in the galaxy that was not the Ebony Vigilance.

Despite that, though, it was quite undistinct. The hanger bay choosen could have been dropped into any Imperator class Star Destroyer in the galaxy.

Still...

"It will be more impressive when you see her on her test runs." The OC said, with a smile of his own. "There is nothing quite like seeing the ships that are so feared pale beside this ship."

"I hear that the Lord Regent is aboard?" Joda asked with some interest, returning the salute of the Orbital Commander.

"Aye. Him and Yuri-" He stopped, wondering whether this Captain from Yaga Minor knew of the engineer.

"I am familiar with Yuri Katarn." Joda said shortly. "He and the Admiral have had many dealings in the past."

The OC wondered for a moment which of the hundreds of Admirals Joda might be referring to before he realized that, within the Ubiqtorate, it could be only one person. Bhindi Drayson.

That would, at any rate, give credence to the rumours. That Moff Drayson was to be the Empire's next Grand Moff, taking Zell's place at the table, and that the Executor was to be turned over to her.

"Very well. The Regent and he have been walled up for some time. Discussing the design of the ship, no doubt. You know the Regent had a hand in the design of the Reign. And the Venerator, even."

There was a reason, Joda thought as they walked along, that some men were reglegated to Orbital Commander of a world that no one would ever bother to attack.

"Of course. Daemon Hyfe is one of the most brilliant military minds in the Empire."

"Aye, that he is. One can only hope that Yuri did Him justice in the design of the Executor."

Which, knowing Yuri, was not a concern. This ship may have been a fraction the size of the original Executor, but if it came down to a fight between them Joda had little doubt that the new ship could dish it out just as well as her namesake.

"How long until the ship is ready to sail?" He asked, sensing that they were now approaching the bridge of the vessel.

Stremmins Joda had never set foot on an Executor class ship - by the time he came to any prominence in the Empire they had all been destroyed or taken as prizes by warlords. But he had studied the floor plans extensively during the flight from Yaga Minor - a long flight, considering Despayre's location on the rim. Even the Empire's fastest shuttles made it a journey.

"Less than a month, if all goes well." The OC replied, palming a turbolift door control. They were indeed nearing the bridge: all of the checkpoints before now had used rank cylindars as a means of activation. The biochem readers, he knew, protected the most vital of ship functions.

The car took them up several floors, and upon opening they were greeted by the security cooridor that seperated the bridge from any enemies. Guarded by two Spartan-II soldiers who stood out in stark contrast from the bright white walls and light, the security cooridor was equipped with automatic weapons, gravity traps, and a host of other functions to foil intruders. It could even be depressurized in a matter of seconds if the need arose.

The bridge itself was barren. All of the consoles were installed and glowing, but missing were the bridge officers who would usually be crouched over them. It was rare to see the bridge of an Imperial warship in such a state, and it unnerved Joda somewhat. What if the system came under attack? Even in her incomplete state, the Executor would be a force to be reckoned with. But not without a bridge crew in place.

"We have all the outputs slaved to the number two bridge," the OC said, "these machines are still being callibrated. What you see is simply being broadcast from the fully functionall secondary bridge below us."

Joda nodded. He knew that, following the Endor disaster, all Imperial ships of the Star Destroyer class had been equipped with backup bridges in case the primary was destroyed. The Executor III had no less than ten such secondary commander centres.

"Less than a month." The OC said, watching as Joda gazed out along the kilometres-distant bow of the massive warship. "You would do well to begin training your crew in the proper procedures of commanding an Imperial Super Star Destroyer."

"Captain?" The voice was hard and low. To Joda's ear, it sounded like the accent of an Eriaduian: the industrial stronghold that dominated the Empire's presence in the South East of the galaxy.

Stremmins Joda turned, almost reluctantly, from the bridge viewports and towards the speaker. The Executor was nearing completion, the construction pylons being removed now from her outer hull and the final crucial work being completed. All that would remain after that was the minor work: equipping the ship not only to fight, but to sustain it's 150 000 crewers.

"I'm Commander Cooke. Executive Officer of the Executor." He pronounced it eggs-eck-you-tour.

Cooke was of average height, Joda decided, and in his perfectly pressed gray uniform and officer's cap, he looked every bit the Imperial man. His whethered face showed the scars of battle, and the Captain could see the fire in this man's eyes.

Imperial High Command had done it's job in selecting an XO for this ship.

"Commander." Joda said, returning the man's salute at last and smiling. "What ship did you last serve on?"

"Most recently, Sir, the Galactus. But before that I was third officer aboard the Ebony Vigilance. The first one, I mean."

An impressive resume, to say the least. It was often said that a bridge officer aboard the Empire's Eclipse class Star Destroyer was the equivilent of a Line-Captain aboard any other ship.

There was no doubt in Joda's mind that the Executor would be well crewed.

"Ahh, Kaine." He said with a knowing smile. Joda had never served under the Grand Marshal, but he well knew the reputation of Simon Kaine. Drayson had met him on several occasions, and said she was mildly impressed with the man.

But for Bhindi Drayson to be mildly impressed with anyone was rare indeed.

"When are the rest of the crew expected to arrive?" It was slightly odd, Joda thought. He had been on the Executor for a week now, familiarizing himself with the ship's layout and the few officers who were, like himself, early arrivals. But he was still in the dark about when the ship would be ready for complete deployment. The OC had given it a month to completion, but to train a compitent crew for a Super Star Destroyer would take time, as well.

"There are a few with me now. The rest are coming in within the week. Scuttlebut is that IHC's assembling some big names to assign to this ship, and it's taking some time to sort out their commands."

Which was sensible enough. One does not send the most expensive Imperial production project since the Ebony Vigilance into combat with an incompitent crew.

"Very good, Commander. Your may retire. Have those crew who've arrived meet me in the number two conference room at 1800 hours."

Cooke nodded and, returning Joda's salute, turned on his heel and marched out of the bridge.

The bridge of the Imperial Super Star Destroyer Executor III was a flurry of activity. Only days ago the remainder of the ship's support crew had arrived, all of them awed by the sight of the massive vessel as they landed in her cavernous main hanger bay. It was an odd group that had assembled on the bridge of the warship: all of them the finest officers the Empire had to offer in their fields, all with years of experiance under their belts. And yet, all horribly inexperianced. Few had worked together, and none had ever served as crew of such a massive vessel.

And with only three days of training as a single cohesive unit, this crew was being sent out on the first trial run of the Empire's newest SSD. Captain Joda had fought vehetemetly against the ship's first trial run coming so soon after her technical completion. But the IHC had demanded that the ship enter service as soon as possible, and if that meant a trial run with an undertrained crew, so be it.

"All systems reporting fully operational, Captain." Cooke, looking every part the Executive Officer in his freshly pressed uniform, said, coming to stand beside the Captain at the viewports. Before them the bow of the ship was barely visible against the black space, the matte black hull fading into the infinite. Were it not for the thousands of running lights along her length Joda felt the Executor might simply have faded into the stars and vanished.

"Helm, half speed. Bring us about twenty degrees to port. Navigation, give me a route to the nearest hyperbuoy and prepaer for hyperspace. Let's not push her to hard."

The ship's engines whined as power was fed to them. It would take some months for them to lose the 'baby's cry', the high pitched squeal of unbroken engines. Everything on the ship sounded, smelled, and looked new. Except, of course, for the crew, who bent over their consoles as the seasoned professionals they were.

Joda smiled thinly as he felt the behemoth turn, swinging her nose away from the Imperial shipyards and towards open space. Then she surged forward. The feeling was eliminated by the ship's internal dampeners, but the dockyard crewers saw it. The sight of a thirteen kilometre warship accelerating into open space is a rare sight - all of these men saw it now for the first time in their lives. Some wiped tears from their eyes as the second largest ship in the galaxy moved across space before them.

The Executor was to be escorted on this run by no less than four Star Destroyers and a host of fighters and support vessels. This area of space was secure, but no chances were being taken with this ship.

"Engine readouts show below optimum performance on numbers six and eleven, Captain." Cooke said, listening to the reports through his headset and relaying those of crucial importance. "Other engines show optimum performance."

Joda nodded. The Executor had thirteen massive engines in all. She could limp home on four - that a couple were showing minor problems was a pain, but easily remedied upon their return.

"Very good. Increase power, standard test patterns."

The test pattern called for the ship to increase its speed until the engines had reached full power, and then cycle through their various power levels, ensuring that the engines could handle both the power and that they were responsive to the commands given to them.

It was a long process to completely test an Imperial ship of the line. Joda had overseen the process many times, and he found a certain joy in it. There was little more rewarding than returning home to see another ship added to the Imperial Navy. As a general rule, no ship was painted with its markings until it had passed all of its tests.

Seeing that ceremony - the Painting, as it had become known - was an immensely powerful moment. One could only imagine how grand it would be for a ship like the Executor.

"Commander, I will retire." Joda said, turning from the viewports. "Inform me when we are ready to begin the hyperspace tests, if you would."

"Aye, Captain." Coole said, offering the obligatory salute.

"Commander Cooke, you have the bridge." Joda said, taking great pride in giving the formal order.

"Taken, with honour, Captain." Cooke gave the appropriate reply.

The Executor continued to plow along undaunted through space, her escorts keeping easy pace.

The presence of an Imperial Reign class Star Destroyer at the Executor's next hyperjump point was unexpected. So unexpected, in fact, that it caused the unscheduled testing of the ship's shields and weapons systems before scanners confirmed the vessel's identity.

It was with much embarassment that Captain Joda welcomed High Admiral Beecham of the IHC aboard the ship.

"I appluad your crew's reactions." The old man said afterward. "It reminds me of my time on the front lines." No lasting harm had come to the Admiral's flag, the Decisive, but there was some explaining to be done to the crew. Because the Executor's existance was still top secret, the entire ship was in blackout mode. That meant that only the bridge crew could see - literally and metapohorically - what was happening outside the ship. So when a turbolaser salvo had impacted the vessel in a supposed empty area of space, there was noticeablt worry.

"I take it the ship is performing well?" That they had had such success with the turbolasers was good news, at any rate.

"As well as can be expected." Joda said. "It's a fine ship. Well built."

The Admiral nodded. The fight had been long and bitter in the IHC to allow the construction of another Super Star Destroyer. Most of its members had been against it - the resources that had been poured into the Executor III's construction could have been well spent in other areas.

But there was no arguing with that fact that actually seeing such a ship was a sight to behold. The Empire had been for to long without such a physical manifestation of its power. The Ebony Vigilance was their most prided possession, of course, but it was rarely seen by anyone save the fleet that escorted it.

The Executor III was more than simply a warship. It was the showpiece of the New Order.

"Surely, though, Sir, you did not travel all the way from the capital simply to see this ship. We're due in at Imperial Centre in a month as it is."

"No." Beecham said, a trace of regret in his voice. "The Imperial High Command has issued me orders to pass on to you." He paused, almost as if summoning the courage to go on. "IHC wants the Executor put into action. Effective immediatly."

Joda shook his head.

"Impossible. Preliminary tests are not complete. Sending this ship into a battle situation right now could compromise it."

"The ship has performed admirably thus far. The High command considers it ready for a further test. It is also the only ship available for this mission."

"What about the Decisive?" Joda asked, and, realizing he was out of order in doing so, added quickly, "Sir?"

Beecham shook his head.

"Being reassigned to Anzat once we're done here. The IHC is keeping some pretty hefty tabs on the Black Dragon Empire - they need all the firepower they can spare in case something kicks up. The Executor shouldn't be in any real danger. There's simply no other vessel available to make the trip. Your primary objective is simply the demployment of a surface force."

Easier said than done, Joda thought. Clearly, though, the situation had been decided upon already by the IHC, and no ammount of fighting it on his end would change that. Whether he liked it or not - whether the ship was ready or not - the Executor was being deployed.

"You'd better fill me in, Admiral."

And he did.

Commander Cooke awoke to the blaring of the Executor's general alert. He swore, wondering if the vessel was under attack. It occured to him that the Super Star Destroyer's route was top secret - to attack the ship would require someone to have betrayed the Empire.

If that was the case, he thought as he pulled his uniform on, heads would roll.

Dashing out of his quarters and into the cooridors he realized for the first time that the ringing alarm was not the ship's battle alarm. And, slowing his frantic run, he breathed a sigh of relief.

The Executor was not under attack.

But the revelation left a much bigger question: he knew full well that the ship's first combat trials were not for another week. Why was the general alert being sounded? Had their been a critical failure with the ship?

That worried him more than an attack on the vessel. An attack their escorts could defend them against. But if the Executor was suffering internal problems, this far away from any Imperial repair depots...

He heard the familiar whine of the hyperdrives even as he felt the ship accelerate, and realized that the alarm was simply alerting the crew that the ship was making an unexpected transition to hyperspace.

Going over the schedule in his head even as he ran, Cooke knew that they were not scheduled for a hyperdrive test at this hour. The ship was supposed to be resting her hyperdrives while the engineers determined if they were running at par.

This realization set off a whole new series of questions, none of which the Commander had answers to. He could only wonder (and hope) that Captain Joda knew what was going on.

He reached the bridge and offered a salute to the guards standing before the doors. Security aboard the ship was understandably rigid - moreso even than on other Imperial ships. An undercrewed Super Star Destroyer demanded a certain ammount of security against boarders. Fortunately, the Executor had nothing to worry about. Cooke wasn't terribly familiar with the black-armoured Spartan-II soldiers, but he knew enough to feel quite confident under their protection.

The security doors opened, revealing the bridge and Captain Joda. The viewport shutters were closed, blocking out the dizzying image of the ship's hyperspace travel.

"Ah, Commander." Joda said with a slight smile, turning as the doors chimed. "I take it our little jump woke you?"

Cooke nodded, pinching between his eyes. He realized for the first time how tired he was after the unexpected end of his sleep. Glancing at his chronometer, he noticed that it was nearly five in the morning, according to his watch. He was due to have woken in an hour anyway.

"Might I ask why we're in hyperspace, Sir?" Cooke asked, glancing at the nearest monitor. The numbers gave him little idea of where they were headed.

"We were paid a visit last night," the Captain said, his face expresionless. "Admiral Beecham, I'm sure you've heard of him."

Cooke had. Beecham was one of the less favourable members of the Imperial High Command. He was well known in the Fleet, but his existance was nearly denied to the public. He was stronlgly opinionated, and had no qualms about sharing them. It was widely said if it were not for his genius, he would have been executed years ago.

"Why would the Admiral come here?" Cooke asked. Here, Joda paused. It occured to him that this conversation was not unlike the one had had only hours previous with Beecham himself.
"IHC is deploying the Executor. Ahead of schedule."

Joda saw the same incredulity on Cooke's face that he himself had held, and smiled thinly.

"There's nothing for it, High Command is decided and we're already enroute." The Captain shrugged. "I didn't think it worth waking you - we're some days in hyperspace as it is."

The XO nodded slowly, taking it all in. The Executor had performed well, there was no doubt about that. He had his reservations about deploying the vessel - what if something went wrong? - but there was no use fighting the IHC. Not with the ship already enroute.

There were a thousand questions to be asked. How was the ship expected to fight, undercrewed as she was? What if something went wrong? What if, Gods forbid, the ship was lost?

But one got the better of him, and he said, "what's the mission, then?"

"You're familiar with the Black Dragon Empire?" Joda asked.

Cooke shook his head. He had heard of the mysterious organization, certainly, but he had not been briefed on it in any detail. Evidently, that was a mistake.

"They've been very active in the Tion sector, especcially since the end of the war." The Captain said. "I believe Admiral Dessaria is very familiar with them." He referred, of course, to the planets that had been 'traded' with the BDE, originally taken by the Baron. He had been less than pleased with the deal, Joda knew.

"IHC wants them dealt with?"

Joda laughed. "Hardly a mission for us, Commander. The Black Dragon Empire would be more than a match for this group. No. Some time ago, Admiral Dessaria created an outpost on Anzat, bordering the BDE's space. There's some talk that the Dragons may attempt to take Anzat - IHC wants to ensure that doesn't happen. We've been assigned to reinforce the Anzat position."

It sounded simple enough, in theory. The Executor would travel to Wayland and take on a deployment of Stormtroopes, Legionaires, and Spartan-IIs. They would then return to Belderone, on the border of the BDE and near enough to offer support to Anzat should that planet come under attack, and deploy them to the garrisons there.

Hopefully, the Black Dragon Empire would hold off attacking Anzat or Belderone in the meantime.

"And what about the security of the Executor?" Joda asked. Both men knew full well that the Super Star Destroyer's existance was still top secret. The Despayre system was sealed; all those who had worked on the project in one capacity or another kept in a communications blackout since learning of the ship's construction. It would be foolhardy in the extreme to reveal the ship now, simply because no alternative means of transportation was available.

"It has been taken into consideration." The Admiral assured him. He too had held the same doubts. "The Executor will take station well out of sensor range of the system. The transports will make a short hyperjump to meet with the Executor and offload. The pilots talk will be monitoried, and they will be taken aboard once the ship is loaded."

Stremmins Joda replayed the conversation with Admiral Beecham as the transports - twenty six in all - emerged from hyperspace once more and hailed the Executor as she hung at station-keeping.

The security of the Executor, Beecham assured the Line-Captain, would be paramount. Keeping the ship's existance a secret was a priority for the Fleet.

The transports recieved their clearance and continued in towards the massive wedge shaped SSD. Joda had spoken with the pilots after their first landing, ensuring they were well aware that they were not to speak a word of the Super Star Destroyer's existance to anyone.

"I've never seen such a ship!" One of the younger men had said, obviously filled with awe at the sight of such a massive warship.

Joda had not told them that the Executor was not battle-ready, that in a combat situation she may barely hold her own. Nor had he told them that once they landed their final contigents they would be remaining aboard for the duration of the mission.

Such was the nature of the Executor's mission. Not that keeping secret the mission itself was of any great worry. All of the soldiers knew full well that they were being deployed to Belderone to reinforce the garrisons there in case of a BDE assault in the sector.

They had not, however, been given the true reasons for their deployment.

The rebellion of the Kulthis Rebels, in which Belderone was taken and the Governor tortured, had not been widely reported within the Empire, and was all but unheard of outside. It had been dealt with, in the manner of the New Order, quickly and efficiently. And with an iron hand befitting of the Empire.

The soldiers now being deployed to Belderone were indeed being sent to reinforce the Empire's position in that region of space. But they were also being deployed to rebuild Belderone's armies following the rebel attacks on the planet.

Like the existance of the Executor, keeping this unwelcome attack on the Empire a relative secret was paramount. Joda knew full well that not even his XO was aware of the nature of their mission. The party line - simple reinforcement - had been swallowed easily.

Glacning at his monitor, Joda realized that this was the last of the convoys to arrive. And even now they were setting down in the vast main hanger bays of the Super Star Destroyer. He was aware of what he had to do, and he knew none of the pilots would thank him for it.

Nonetheless, orders were orders. These men would accept them. Such was the nature of Imperial soldiers.

Leaving the bridge under the watchful eye of Commander Cooke, he started for the main hanger bays.