Eventually, mercifully, dawn came to Scillal. The sunlight washed out the light from the fires that continued to rage throughout the capital and other major cities. Locally, the last pockets of resistance were being overwhelmed and mopped up by forces of the Black Dragon Empire. Outside the centers of commerce and industry, all was relatively quiet. Unable to affect their own destiny, country folk listened and waited to learn of their fate. They had nothing to say about it. Having not participated in the fight, they would be equally shut out of the peace.

Like a gigantic black hawkbat, something massive and dark squatted in the center of the capital. Come to ground, the Tion DragonClaw that transported the leaders of the BDE from the <I>Necros</i>, was even more impressive than it had been suspended high in the upper atmosphere. It towered above the surviving government structures, dominating them as easily as a sandpanther would a pack of womprats.

Preparations for the armistice had been prepared as meticulously as the battle plan. The DragonClaw battleship faced the damaged but still intact capitol dome. Flanking it were the AT-BT's as their bipedal structures marched to their formations. Death commandos, armed with their TC-7's, lined up on both sides of the towering doors at the bottom of the DragonClaw. The doors had been proportioned to impress onlookers, not because the vessel was crewed by giants. As martial music flared, the barriers parted.

Backed by his field commanders and principal advisors, General Grevious and Admiral Vaako stood staring out at the battered surface of Scillal. Even from his interior vantage point he was able to make out the capitol dome and the ranks of hovering Deathgliders above. At his appearance, the squad of Deathgliders began to dip in perfect unison: an aerodynamic bow. The aerial ballet could not fail to impress any who saw it.

Eminently satisfied, Admiral Vaako started down the wide steps of the boarding ramp. "It is time. Let's go replenish the ranks." General Grevious made no comment, but simply nodded, following two steps behind.

Grevious, Commander Kix Davin, and Sij Olith trailed him as he exited the DragonClaw and strode toward the waiting capitol dome. The Dameun priest was there, too. Falling in alongside Commander Davin was a woman who held the military rank of Commander, and whose attention everyone sought. That she was partnered with Kix did not keep others from trying to insinuate themselves into her good graces-- and elsewhere. Kix was aware of such efforts. They did not rouse him to anger because he understood the motivation. Having seen, or more properly, been exposed to Zem Renneyn, most men and not a few women could do little else.

"Never fails to inspire, does it?" she commented as they marched side by side. "Each time a dynasty falls. So much expenditure of effort, so much waste of treasure, all for naught in the end. As it always is, so it will always be."

Leaning toward her, an annoyed Kix whispered tightly, "This is the Procession of Conquest. Mark your words and remember your place."

Unperturbed, she adjusted a piece of her battle armor and nodded in the direction of both leaders. "Why? Do you worry <I>Vaako</i> will overhear? He is too full of the moment of victory, too full of himself right now, to notice anything that does not reflect on his glory. Never doubt that."

"I don't," he replied with conviction. Raising a hand, he pointed. "But it is Grevious, I fear. His sorceror's ways with the Force and the lightsaber he possesses are not one to challenge or voice."

A pair of Deathgliders had zeroed in on the huge symbol that crowned the capitol dome. A few perfectly placed laser blasts smashed through its base. The symbol teetered unsteadily. Then, falling as if in slow motion, it toppled and spilled to the ground, cratering the surface where it landed. Digging its own grave literally as well as symbolically, Admiral Vaako mused. He did not think the intentionally violent gesture out of place. As an experienced warrior, he knew well the importance of symbols. In case any still doubted, it was visual confirmation of the fall of Scillal.

In the central meeting chamber, the leaders of Scillal waited uneasily. Politicians, bureaucrats, ministers, clerics, they waited and whispered while surrounded by an elite corps of BDE death commandos led by Commander Kix Davin. Some of the representatives had come willingly, hoping to negotiate the best possible terms of surrender for their people. Others had arrived with hopes of working with the conquerors. Still more had been rounded up and chivvied along against their will, unable to escape or turned in by the first of the inevitable collaborators.

Silence fell as Admiral Vaako and General Grevious, along with their retinue, entered. Without fear or hesitation, they started down the stairs toward the central dais. No one had to part the milling Scillalians for them. That they advanced alone, without flanking security, was not lost on the onlookers. Backing away, they gave them plenty of space, as if the radius of fear that surrounded them was a palpable thing and not just an impression.

Mounting the dais, Vaako took time to study his surroundings as the General joined him. The interior of the capitol dome was impressive-- in the usual transitory, meaningless way of the ignorant and misguided. Like everything else, that would soon be corrected. As the Admiral began to speak, his words were heard clearly all the way to the back of the circular auditorium.

"Where is your leader, Scillal? So that we may discuss your terms of surrender to us and advance our way to the next world of Erilnar..."

Erilnar...

The planet stood, faintly green against the dominant aquamarine afterglow of the planets three hundred thousand lakes. From space, it almost appeared to be a serene beacon of light, much like a lighthouse calling the alien invaders forth from the black sea of space; challenging them from across the desolation.

Scrivinir Stephanie Sapphire stood in silence in one of her formal dresses. The crimson red cloth draped around her, fitting her features perfectly as if the cloth were a part of her; as if it had grown with her since early childhood. Her hair hung rebelliously around a small gold crown, a symbolic treasure passed down for generations among the former Scrivinirs, all of whom happened to be men. With a slight adjustment to the measurements, it fit her feminine features quite nicely.

Her stern featured remained emotionless as she stared blankly at the skies above her garden balcony with her fingers clenched tightly around the life crystal that hung eternally between her cleavage.

Not again... she spoke to herself, never opening her lips.

Almost as confirmation to her clairvoyancy, two uniformed men interrupted the pristine double doors of the garden. Crimson flowers trembled as the winds picked up around them creating the illusion that the plants themselves were bowing before a more supreme authority... a military authority.

"Madam Scrivinir, I am Vice Admiral Preston Tenae of the Oseon Navy of the Centrality and this is my associate Lieutenant Commander Tier Levid." Admiral Tenae paused for a moment as he pulled a small grey datapad from his pocket and extended it forward.

"As I am sure you've heard, Admiral Lehhett's command shop as been destroyed by what survivors describe as 'alien' warships from the Cronese Mandate. After a direct violation of the neutral zone, I regret to announce that the Admiralty is prepared to declare a state of war with your permission."

"And Scillal?" Stephanie hesitated, already knowing the answer to her question.

"Occupied, Madam Scrivinir. These Alien Invaders bested our finest task force in a matter of only a few hours. Intelligence can't confirm my theory, but I believe that Scillal Industries may be behind this.... it's just too convenient for there seditious ways."

Stephanie nodded her head as she took a step forward and rested her hands on the cool polished-stone handrail. "Has my father's body been recovered?"

Admiral Tenae nodded, but didn't speak.

"Scillal Defense Forces have requested Centrality assistance, though we haven't received communications from the planet in over sixteen hours." The Lieutenant spoke up. He was a young man, of no more than sixteen years in age. Short, brown hair neatly cut to the features of his face and a well pressed uniform. His youthful years in the Naval Academy, Stephanie assumed, were no doubt the only schooling he had known.

"Request denied."

"Ma'am?"

"You heard me Admiral. For the last three years, Scillal has done nothing but threaten violence against the Centrality if it did not bend to it's will. It has threatened the delicate peace that I have somehow managed to maintain. With the death of my late foster father, Sris Lehhett at the hands of these alien invaders, rumors may begin to circulate that I am unfit to rule."

Preston smirked. "If I had a credit for every time I heard that rumor.... With all do respect, it's been rumored for quite some time. Dispite the fact that your late father was the Hero of the Basilisk, public opinion has always been against a woman in office, let alone one without noble birth."

"Lord Lehhett taught me everything that I need to know about Nobility, Admiral Tenae. You would be wise to remember that."

Preston nodded his head, and carefully placed his hands behind him, keeping his back perfectly straight.

"Have preparations been made for the defense or Erilnar?" The Scrivinir's voice seemed dry and full of confusion, yet she managed to remain professional about her position of power.

"Yes madam Scrivinir. An Allegiance-Class Star Destroyer and two Aegis-Class Cruisers have already left the drydock. The Oseon System has contributed six Akorec-Class Strike Cruisers from it's fleet, and with the local system patrol fighters, we should have enough to match about a third of the alien warfleet."

"A third? You call that a defense! We're outnumbered three to one, Admiral. Is this all the Centrality can muster?"

"With all do respect, Madam Scrivinir, you revoked the Military Creation Doctrine shortly after Lord Sris' abdication to you."

She nodded her head reluctantly.

"Has a ground force been assembled?" She continued.

"A small force of four hundred volunteers are joining General Taris' forces near the Gencore Shield Generator. It shouldn't be long before Erilnar is at it's full military capability. This alien technology, however, I'm sorry to say is... far more advanced...."

"I'm aware of what we are up againt, Admiral." Stephanie interrupted as she strode forward, brushing past the two uniformed men as she reentered the stately surroundings of her personal quarters. "Please advise all noteable government officials that I will be undertaking a mission of my own leisure. Order the Diplomatic Courier Vessel Avian Envoy into a readiness status, and inform it's Captain that I will be coming aboard as soon as preparations for my departure are complete."

"Yes madam Scrivinir."

"Lieutenant Levid, if you would be so kind as to accompany me on this mission of great importance, I would be most grateful. I will need a Navigation Officer."

"The pleasure would be mine, your Excellency."

Diplomatic Courier Vessel Avian Envoy, Three Hours Later

The desolation of space seemed so cold... not just physically, but emotionally as well. Stephanie's thoughts drifted to the deaths of her fathers as the small viewing ports of the shuttle. Each had died for the Centrality that she was now responsible for, and each had died within the intolerable obscurity of space... the very space that she now ventured into for the first time.

From the viewing port, Erilnar seemed as lifeless as the snowplains of Hoth in the outer rim, only much more brilliant in coloration.

"Over there..." the young Lieutenant pointed from her side with a smile. A small collection of warships had begun to assemble on the other side of the planet within it's immense shadow. The lights from the large Star Destroyers blinked to life as they emerged from drydock with enough consumables and weaponry to sustain itself for the next few years. It never ceased to amaze her at how warships could stay away from spaceport for so long.

The immense size seemed much smaller than she had expected, either because the ships were too far away, or because she had simply built these monsterous ships up to be something more significant than they were. Either way, an umimpressed look crossed her face as she folded her arms.

"We should be docking with the Avian Envoy within a few minutes, your Excellency. Can I get you anything?" The pleasant voice of Tier was strangely comforting. She nodded her head, pulling her best diplomatic robes tightly around her body.... to say that space was physically cold was an understatement. It was a wonder that it wasn't a solid mass of ice. Her voice trembled as she spoke.

"Oseon White Wine would be wonderful, thank you."

As the Lieutenant stood, her thoughts once again deifted to her fathers and there ultimate doom within the blanket of space that now enveloped her, comsuming her with it's desolation and it's intemperate climate. The only comfort she had was the glowing life crystal around her neck. Strange how it almost seemed to be a beacon guiding her through the dark recesses of space toward her goal, the vaguely known Star Cave Thonboka.

She hated space....

Like overlapping spiderwebs, the overkill of restraints kept the handmaiden unceremoniously staked to the floor. Despite this, her bearing was of one patiently waiting for something rather than that of an individual in fear for her life.

She didn't even bother to turn when the door to the holding room opened. She knew who it was. The man's aura preceded him, poisoning the air ahead of his advance.

Admiral Vaako stopped directly in front of her. She could have turned away, but chose not to. She could have protested her treatment, but chose not to. The handmaiden who played the Scrivinir's decoy was the very embodiment of the patience for which the nobility of the Centrality were famed for.

Unlike her, her visitor, however, was far less inclined to waste time in idle contemplation of his immediate surroundings.

"Did you really think you take us for fools? Did the Scrivinir really think she can hide from us and place you as a decoy to deceive us? For her treachery, I should order this world's surface casted into ashes, but unfortunately, our Supreme Regent wants the Imperium to expand into your Centrality."

"Does this mean our world is spared, oh great leader of the Dragon?" Just the faintest hint of mockery tinged her response. "If you now have discovered the Scrivinir's deception, I sense I'm not far from punishment or death, being of no further use to you. So, as a matter of self-preservation, shouldn't I tell you where she is hiding?"

"Don't try me, handmaiden. I can torture you with the rest of Scillal's resistors. Push me the wrong way and I'll submit you to pain that you have never encountered."

"Dear me," she replied, her tone unchanged. "Then I'd best mind what I say, hadn't I?" The mocking tone vanished and she became quite serious. "Do not waste your time. Even if I did tell you, the Centrality will never bow to your Imperium."

He tried another tack. "Very well. If you will not coorperate, then I must use other means." He turned back to the doors. "General?"

He returned his gaze to the handmaiden and smiled unpleasantly as the pale-masked figure entered and approached the pair. The woman felt a chill course down her spine as the cyborg being peered at her with those serpentine eyes behind the mask. Eyes shut tight, the handmaiden flinched as a mental thrust tore through her brain as the Force was wielded by Grevious. Doing everything possible to resist, she quickly realized there was nothing she could do. Restrained in both body and mind, she found herself wilting under the relentless assault from the General's probe with his use of the Force. Vaako nodded to the General and the mental anguish ceased.

"Surely, you can tell me her location. Tell me what I want to hear-- and maybe I'll spare your life. To serve as a slave." Admiral Vaako pushed again. Grevious extended his mechanical fingers outward as a sign that he would commence the mental onslaught again, if she refused to answer.

Somewhat to his surprise, she didn't hesitate. Nor did she attempt to dance around his query any longer. Eyeing him without flinching, or even without rancor, she murmured, "Erilnar."

"This better not be another deception, handmaiden," Vaako replied irritably. "For your sake, this had better be the truth."

"You will find out when you get there," she retorted. She said nothing more.

He nodded understandingly and, apparently satisfied, turned to leave the holding cell, followed closely by Grevious, as he forced to debate with himself what to do. Scillal had not yet been completely subjugated. But it was badly weakened, and unlikely to offer serious resistance if attacked afresh. Vaako had been so certain she would hide, but still, still... the deception irritated him.

An hour later, standing at the railing that allowed him a sweeping view over the bridge of the Tion Star Destroyer <I>Necros</I>, Admiral Vaako turned aruptly, so aruptly that his move startled the black-claded officer standing behind him.

"Ascension protocol. Now. Relay the order throughout the fleet and to all ground units. We plot a course for Erilnar. Standard garrisons are to be left behind to safeguard our prize."

Caught off guard by both the speed of the Admiral's turn and the nature of his request, the officer blinked uncertainly. "We still have numbers out there, Admiral. Sweep teams, recon ships, mop-up squads that--"

The pale-claded figure of General Grevious emerged at Vaako's side and snapped out his mechanical palm furiously. The Force slammed the unlucky officer across the room and into a wall, smashing his bones. The hesitant officer crumpled wordlessly to the floor, a broken heap. Without so much as a murmur of regret, the Black Dragon Empire's supreme commander growled at the next officer in rank.

"Get the Admiral's forces off the ground and prepare for lightspeed."

The officer did not need to be told twice, nor did he think to question the inexplicable command. He had already seen what happened to someone who did. Indicating acquiescence, he took steps to issue the necessary orders by his commanders.

Across the surface of Scillal, Tion DragonClaws began to withdraw from sites they had been patrolling. Ongoing attacks were halted as vessel after vessel lifted and turned toward the rendezvous point in orbit. Foot soldiers raced for transports' loading bays. In the ravaged capital itself, BDE officers and priests congregated at the boarding ramps to observe the gathering of forces. While none knew the reason for the contraction, all had confidence in the decision-making ability of their supreme commander and his staff. Preparing some devastating surprise for the remaining stubborn resistance, no doubt. That was the general consensus.

With several garrisons and a few battleships left in orbit, the rest of the armada of the Black Dragon Empire jumped to hyperspace toward their next destination of Erilnar...

Oseon 6845, The Esplanade

The sprawling, corporate-choaked morass of the Esplanade never ceased to amaze anyone from out of system. It's immense crystalline chandeliers hung suspended by gravity controlled repulsors, creating the illusion that they floated freely throughout the pedestrian mall's massive complex. Complimenting the already overwhelming affluence of the structure, ancient music displayed on holographic imageing displays created yet another illusion; the illusion that one was walking among long-dead celebrities. The high-priced footage, said to be the most expensive in the galaxy not only attracted hundreds of thousands of tourists each year in itself, but also held a great deal of prestige to the store-owners that could afford it.

Stephanie walked in silence through the cobblestone streets of the Esplanade, admiring it's rich taste while at the same time keeping a low profile. The Oseon system might have been a pleasure zone for the filthy rich of the galaxy, but it was still a haven for criminals--most of which took advantage of the infinate wealth that circulated throughout the system. She stopped to admire a few choice collectables, but kept a steady pace under close escort by newly-appointed Admiral Tier Levid, and his naval security forces.

"Which asteroid is this again?" Stephanie's voice seemed distant as she admired a small, but highly over-priced antique nick-knack. It's emerald blue color had captured her attention and she concluded, would make the purchase.

"6845," the Admiral concluded without a second guess, hurrying her along before the store keeper could bag her new keep-sake.

"What's the rush?"

"We've got a meeting. An old friend from out of town...."

"Everyone around here seems to be from out of town." Stephanie smiled at her own joke, though her words rang of truth. It seemed like every sentient being they passed was of a new, strange alien race. Races that she had never seen before dressed in ellegant robes which, she had come to realize, were obviously symbolic of extreme wealth. The more intricate and expensive your robes, the higher social category you fit into.

"We should be there momentarily, Madam Scrivinir. I just have to remember where it is...." The Admiral's words trailed off as he quickly looked over a small holographic map, displaying a small red dot that blinked you are here in bold red letters.

"Ah, there..." he pointed.

"We passed that tavern a few shops back..."

Tier rolled his eyes and turned back the way they had came. Among Oseon's expensive shops, thousands of tourists and local boisterously wealthy citizens sported logoed bags from throughout the mall, some of which Stephanie herself might have been carrying, had the Admiral not been in such a damn hurry.

"Why'd we stop here anyway?"

"Mynocks.... wreched filthy creatures."

She nodded her head, but didn't speak as they rounded the corner into the purfumed air of the tavern, laced with the scent of Corellian cigar smoke, foreign brews and foul-smelling creatures. She couldn't help but let a smile assault her serious expressions. It was so typical.... so uniform to meet an unknown contact in the most grungy cantina you could find. It was so.... Han Solo and Luke Skywalker on a mission to save the Galaxy yet again. She rolled her eyes at her thoughts, and quickly reminded herself that the two men went down in history as two foolhardy men, self-righteous enough to think themselves better than the rest of the galaxy simply because of connection to a lost lineage of Nubian royalty.

Looking up from her daydreaming, Stephanie set eyes upon the bartender. She was a young woman of human decent, no more than twenty or so years old with brilliant blonde hair and a well rounded body. Her thick hair seemed to accent her full face perfectly, and her brown eyes provided the perfect accent to her features.

"Get you anything lady?" she asked.

"That depends," Stephanie smiled and took a seat, carefully positioning herself a few barstools away from a slimy Gamorrean aristocrat. "Whatcha got?"

"Anything you can imagine, plus," the bartender proudly announced as she carefully swabed a moist glass clean.

"I'll have a Cambrian Wine, please."

"Comin' right up."

Stephanie smiled as she carefully twirled her new keep-sake between her fingers, admiring it's useless but attractive features. It's color reminded her of her father, a feeling that warmed her heart enough to make the blood within her veins feel like thick rivers of red-hot plasma.

"That's aweful nice..." the bartender commented as she set down a glass and slowly poured the thick wine. Letting the crystal fill half-way, she set bottle down next to the glass and smiled. "You get that down at ole' Raenor's place?"

"I think so... I can't remember the name of the shop." Stephanie raised the glass to her lips and took a sip, allowing the tangy liquid to tease her taste buds before she swallowed.

"You here with the Admiral?"

Stephanie raised an eyebrow. "How did you know he's an Admiral?"

"Looks to me like he's a Centrality Admiral, which would make you one of three things: his daughter, his mistress, or the Scrivinir herself."

Stephanie's face fell into one of utter shock. How anyone could identify her so far from Erilnar was beyond her wildest comprehension.

"I take it by the look on your face that the third guess is the charm?"

Stephanie didn't speak, merely raising her glass to her lips and taking another sip. The bartender, on the other hand nodded her head and grinned. "Thought so. Pleasure to meet your aquaintence, Madam Scrivinir."

"Do you mind if I ask you how you knew that?"

"Nah, no problem. When you work in a field like I work in, you learn a thing or two about how to read people," she grabed another wet glass and began to wipe it dry as she spoke. "You see, it isn't every day that a woman like you, so polite and proper without being discourteous or impolite takes a seat at my bar. It ain't every day that an Admiral and a few armed security officers come strutting there uniforms around either. Being an Admiral, you're either his beloved, his bitch, or his superior." The bartender finished her speech with a wink.

"I see...."

"Get you anything else Madam Scrivinir?"

"No thank you... and please don't call me that. Just Stephanie is fine."

"Sure thing Steph. You can call me Traci" The bartender nodded her head, set down the cup and walked to the other side of the bar where a fresh crowd of wealthy-looking cigar smoking Corellians were demanding immediate priority service.

"Dead end...."

Stephanie looked up from her drink to see the Admiral standing over her, a demoralizing look on his face. "The guy is a half-wit... claimed her knew but I don't think he could even find his way to the food court if he had to do it to save his life. With any luck, we'd be able to find it if we wandered the whole of the Centrality for three or four decades."

Stephanie rolled her eyes and tapped her fingers on the bar.

"Traci, do you have a minute."

"Sure do, whatcha need?"

"Do you know anything about the Thonboka?"

"The Starcave? Sure... I hear merchants that pass through here talk about it all of the time. Apparently the Oswaft aren't too keen on tresspassers. About a year ago, they destroyed a whole convoy because it came a couple hundred lightyears too close."

Stephanie smiled and turned to face the Admiral, admiring his shocked facial features before returning her attention to Traci, the bartender.

"Any idea where we can find it?"

"Yep. Through the Dela and Rafa Systems over by Tund somewhere. I heard one of the merchants the othe rday say something about avoiding the coordinates three seven two seven in the Tund system, if anyone knows what that means."

The Admiral nodded his head and snapped his fingers, motioning for the two armed security officers to come over. Within a few seconds, Stephanie was on her feet, extending a hand to the woman that had not only saved them valuable time in the war against the Black Dragon Empire, but a couple hundred thousand credits on purchased intelligence.

"How much do I owe you Traci?"

"Twenty three hundred credits.... discounted from three grand."

Stephanie nodded her head and extended her hand forward. "There is twenty three seventy, keep the change."

"Thanks Madam Scrivinir! You adventurers be careful now, and stop back by the next time your in the system."

"Will do. Take care Traci."

From the jump out of hyperspace near the planet of Erilnar, light years away from their last location of Scillal, the armada of the Black Dragon Empire assembled for battle. Several Tion DragonClaws and Farfalen gunships advanced ahead of the Tion Star Destroyers as they prepared to disgorge their landing platforms and dropships onto the planet's surface.

"Tion Star Destroyer <I>Elysium</i> has just reported in, Admiral," the communications officer told Vaako. "They confirm battle ready, and request order updates."

"Inform Captain Aalaya there have been no changes," Vaako told him, standing at the starboard viewport and gazing out at the shadowy shapes gathered around the <I>Necros</I>, all but the closest identifiable only by the distinctive patterns of their running lights. it was an impressive armada, one worthy to be compared to the Imperial Empire under Grand Marshall Kaine. The fleet was a concoction of Tion and Farfalen ships: Tion Star Destroyers, DragonClaws, Shoto Battlecruisers, <I>Cutter</i> and <I>Kessel</i>-class Gunships, and over a hundred squadrons of Deathgliders standing ready in their hangar bays.

And in front of them lay Erilnar, the key to this whole operation.

"Status, Admiral?" General Grevious’s mechanical voice came quietly from behind him.

Vaako turned to face the cyborg General. "All ships are on line, Grevious," he reported. "The DragonClaws and Tion Star Destroyers have reported in; all Deathgliders are prepped and manned. I think we’re ready."

Grevious nodded, his serpentine eyes behind the pale mask sweeping the field of running lights around them. "Excellent," he murmured. "My armies are ready and waiting aboard their transports. What word from the Scrivinir or Erilnar?"

The question threw Vaako off stride-- he hadn’t thought about it for the past several hours. "I don’t know, General," he confessed, looking over Grevious’s shoulder at the communications officer. "Lieutanant-- any word from the surface or the Scrivinir?"

The officer clad in black was already calling up the log. "Negative, Sir. It is like they are expecting us. There is no sign of surface activity, nor any messages acknowledging us."

Vaako turned to face him. "No sign?" he repeated, his voice suddenly very quiet and very deadly. "How dare they ignore us... Fools. Do they not know who they face?"

"I’m checking again," the comm officer said, starting to look a little nervous. "No log entry. No message sent. Perhaps they already accepted defeat?" he answered as a hopeful reaction to the Admiral’s comment.

"Perhaps it is a trap," General Grevious suggested to the Admiral.

For a handful of heartbeats Admiral Vaako just stood there, silent. "Possibly," he said at last. "Order the strike immediately. Do not give them time to spring it, if it is indeed one." The general order was immediately dispatched and the armada quickly began to disembark their transports to the surface.

Vaako glanced at the status board. "Order the Tion Star Destroyers to begin acquiring targets to Erilnar’s main capital cities for orbital bombardment," he commanded, his voice steady and controlled again. He turned back to the communications officer. "Signal the General’s armies to begin invasion as soon as they touch ground."

"Yes, sir."

There was a tight smile on Vaako’s face. Aruptly, the tactical officer raised his eyes to the viewscreens. "Sir. We have incoming. Something <I>big</i>. It just appeared on the opposing side of Erilnar."

"What is it?" the Admiral asked calmly, stepping over to observe the screens.

"Multiple signals-- thousands of them," the officer told him, still scanning. "It’s a fleet-- twice the size of ours.." his voice trailed off for an instant. "...and not mechanical... but-- living. Organic."

"Organic? As in living beings?" Vaako asked cautiously. It was not exactly a report he’d been anticipating. The vast fleet of the Oswaft quietly spreaded out toward the armada as the ship’s sensors tracked them over the viewscreen.

General Grevious looked at him, a faint glimmer in his eyes. "You were expecting, perhaps, a welcome commitee from the Scrivinir herself? It seems we were played into her hands." He looked out toward the viewports. "A cunning human she is. I am impressed. We are outnumbered in their ranks."

"Victory will not be achieved this day," Grevious quietly declared.

"Only a setback to our plans," Vaako protested.

But he knew deep down that the other knew the truth. Vaako’s smile remained, but was suddenly cold. "We haven’t been defeated, General," he said quietly. "Merely slowed down a bit. We have Scillal, and we have the alliance of the Farfalen as well. As long as we have a foothold in the Centrality, our ultimate victory is still assured."

He looked out the viewport, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Perhaps she may join us in an alliance like the Farfalen, General. The Scrivinir could ally with us and we can aide her in the defeat of her nearby enemies," Vaako said, a surge of relief washing through him. "Surely, she must have many. The attack on our fleet by those other ships must have been her adversaries."

"Perhaps," the General agreed, nodding slightly. "Then I suggest we stand down and discuss treaty negotiations with the Scrivinir. It would spare many lives and we may gain an ally in this."

For a long time Admiral Vaako stood in silence, staring at the tactical screens, apparently oblivious to the fleet of alien beings surrounding his armada. Grevious observed him, waiting for the inevitable outburst of injured pride at the unexpected reversal. Wondering what orders he would issue.

"Stand down our forces on the surface and have our fleet establish orbit around Erilnar," he began, then turned to his comm officer. "Comm: have a message dispatched to the Centrality’s defense forces and the Scrivinir, herself. Tell them we wish to commence treaty negotiations between our Imperium and the Centrality and possibly discuss an alliance between our governments..."

The immense size of a single Oswaft was enough to take on any Imperator-class Star Destroyer on a single account. They were almost like organic warships that remained hidden deep within the safe confinds of the ThonBoka until negotiations were made for them to return to the struggle for peace and prosperity.... to return to the flames of war. Stephanie only watched in wonderment as they rounded Erilnar, surrounded by the graceful maneuvers of the Oswaft, so coordinated in fact that they looked more like a swarm of birds than a fleet of intelligent manta-like beings.

Several hundred more Oswaft exited hyperspace behind the already massive combined fleet of mechanical Centrality vessels, and organic lifeforms reaching up to one-thousand meters in length. The last time the Oswaft had seen action was what seemed to be hundreds of years ago when the Galactic Empire had ordered them eradicated. They had defeated Emperor Palpatine's warfleets, and they would defeat this alien invasion in the same likeness.

"Order all warships into a battle-ready position, shields raised and weapons armed at maximum." Admiral Levid announced to the crew of the Diplomatic Courier Vessel Avian Envoy, a lightly armed craft that had become the flagship of a rag-tag fleet of merchant vessels, Oswaft beings, and Centrality warships.

"Sir, they appear to be standing down. They've recalled there landing craft... Seems we've spooked them."

Stephanie stepped forward, peering out of the transparisteel viewing ports at the alien invasion fleet as a small Centrality task force exited hyperspace behind them, surrounding the Black Dragon Empire's fleet.

Her tactics had actually worked.

"Order our ships into a defensive position," Stephanie interrupted as she took a step forward, reasserting her command on the vessel. Though not a military officer, she did hold the title of Scrivinir.

"Yes ma'am." Admiral Levid agreed, nodding his head to the tactical officer in approval of her orders.

The lights of the ship shuttered, and faided, then relit quickly, and then faided again, a signal to the Oswaft to stand down for the time being.

"Open communications with the alien warfleet..."

"Open, ma'am. We've recieved a communique -- they'd like to discuss terms for a treaty of peace, and possibly of alliance."

Stephanie stepped up to a small holographic image projector so that her full image could be displayed in the eyes of the alien commanders that dared to question the resolve of the Centrality's capital planet of Erinlar. She stood proud with her back straight and her head held high.

"I am Scrivinir Stephanie Sapphire of the Centrality. Your violation of our borders is an outrage to the sovereignty of this system. I can only assume that the entire Cronese Mandate has suffered the same fate as Scillal, but the proud planet of Erinlar will never surrender to the voracity of your so-called Black Dragon Empire. Your Imperialistic expansion will not include the worlds of the Centrality."

She paused for a moment, letting her words absorb. Perhaps she was being too tense, too strong with her arguements. Outrage coursed through her veins, but she had done her job well... she had stopped the invasion dead in it's tracks. Negotiations for the return of Scillal were in order.

"If you are willing to discuss these terms of peace, the Centrality is willing to hear you out." Stephanie's words created a cold chill down the Admiral's spine, for he knew that she was a dangerous woman with dangerous aspirations.

"Therefore, I would be honored to accept your invitation aboard your vessel."

Tier lifted his eyes to meet with hers as he made a cut-throat gesture to the communications officer. Stephanie turned and clenched her fists.

"Admiral Levid, your actions are uncalled for."

"It has become a matter of internal security, madam Scrivinir. I cannot let you go aboard that alien vessel."

"If I don't go aboard, they will think us insignificant, afraid and weak. It may come as a shock to them that I am willing to meet with them under such circumstances. I know of the risk I am taking, but it is a risk I am willing to take for the sake of the Centrality. I will not suffer the same fate as my fathers."

Stephanie turned and raised her hand to two security officers, gesturing for them to come to her side.

"I will take two officers and a protocal droid with me, Admiral. Now, if you'll excuse me...." the Scrivinir brushed past the Admiral as she continued, "I have a job to do."