Takeover of Anoth...er planet.



The future was just beginning. Or so they had thought. But the first lesson of the universe reared it's ugly head and taught the heroic trio that what you expect is not always what you get.




And as they looked out a plexiglass window the trio found that they were no longer orbiting Azguardia. Apparently, Star Express IntraSystem Transit Laundry Ship XPJ-32 had a destination other than they had thought (whatever that might have been).


It is said by the best secret service agencies in the galaxy that the best results come from circumstances not planned. And the trio and members of the Azguard Special Services found themselves in circumstances that they neither created nor had any hand in planning.


But they were agents and they determined to get to the bottom of their current situation.


For you see, as they traveled on the Star Express IntraSystem Transit Laundry Ship XPJ-32 an extraordinary circumstance occurred. It not only went to lightspeed when it was not supposed too, it also stopped several lightyears outside the Azguard system only to be picked up by an even larger ship.

Through the little viewport the trio could see that another very large alien ship had captured the XPJ-32.



"What"...munch... munch.."do they"... munch ...munch.."want?" Beeker said through munching his tiny bag of beans.

Tweek could only stare as their craft was no longer moving. "The pilot did not even try to escape!" he complained.

Squeek suddenly had an epiphany that propelled the trio on the most dangerous and important assignment yet. If they did not act quickly, Azguard society would be rocked to it's very foundations.


The plot was insidious and would have far reaching implications.


"Quack!" Squeek said with such finality that drew reality back into the picture for the other two.

"Why... Why they would destroy our society as we know it!" Tweek again complained.

"Food production would suffer horribly!" Beeker exclaimed in dismay, the prospect not one he relished thinking about.


Apparently these aliens had drawn their own dastardly plot to bring Regrad's Azguard to it's knees!


By taking Azguard's laundry, many Azguard's on the planet would not have any clean clothes to wear. They would be forced to keep buying new clothes which would drive many into bankruptcy (especially with the price of clothes being so high!).


How could Regrad lead battles? Fleets? Negotiations with high powerful governments without clean clothes?


How could anybody be seen in public without clean clothes?



It was a subtle plan but therein lay it's brilliance. Only from the mind of the evil Imperial Kaine could such a thought even be thought with no one thinking about the thought.


But not so with Squeek, Tweek and Beeker on the case!


And as the ship they were stowaways upon lifted higher and higher into the belly of the larger ship over them a plan of action was drawn up.



And so the GREAT LAUNDRY CAPER began...





And the universe was never the same after this...






Illustrations courtesy of Squeek

Trajan Vespian looked at the converter on E-deck and frowned.

“This is one of the original parts..”

“Installed in the Republic’s Corellian yard, sir. Signed off by Chief Abrams.”

The shadow that normally would have clouded Trajan’s face at the memory never took formed.

Chief Abrams had died during the Battle of Bastion, an event that signaled the end of the Republic.

Now, as they were closing the gap on a decade since the incident, the pain seemed to have receeded.

Reflection on the time brought Trajan’s gaze back to the converter.

The part was 10 years old and had served it’s duty faithfully.

The New Coalition shipyards were well maintained and had a plethora of parts but his aging prejudice against anything non-Republic-built surfaced.

It was not that the parts the Coalition manufactured were inferior, but it seemed that with each original part replaced on the ship, a little bit of the old Republic slipped away.

A little bit of his link to Marlena.

The New Coalition that the Iron Mantis had found a haven within seemed to have more of it’s ideological base set upon economic growth rather than a strong military foundation.

The New Republic of the past was definitely more military oriented..

But, Trajan thought, it had been a different galaxy then.


The Black Dragon Empire was merely a footnote in a xenoreference.

The power vacuum created by the demise of the Republic served to bring these lesser factions to the fore, unopposed.

If the New Republic were still around, the Dragon aggression would have been checked. They would think twice before attacking a government led by Jedi Masters tried and true.

That the Dragon’s did not attack Ossus was a testament to their fear of Searthen Jiren.


And rightly so.


“Uncouple it.” He ordered, feeling a slight pain as he uttered the words. “Send it to the CRD (Coalition Research Desk). Maybe they can retool the currently made convertors to these specs.”


“Those blasted CEO’s will scream that pennies are being taken out of their pockets.”


“Then maybe the contract will go to someone better.” Trajan sighed.


That was the problem with an economic power like the Coalition. The free enterprise market sometimes got downright dirty with competitors competing for the same accounts (most notably, government accounts).


But, unfortunately, less costly did not always translate into “better” though some government bureaucrats would tend to disagree.


It’s a convertor for heaven’s sake, Traj!


“The new one should be fine.” He murmured not sounding very convinced.

The Master Engineer grinned. “Out with the old, in with the new, eh Commander?”

Though he was Captain of the Iron Mantis, Trajan preferred his men called him “Commander”, his last rank as a New Republic Officer.

New recruits were another matter altogether, though. That was something he still found it hard to get used too.


His crew had forged themselves into a family during the past seven years living just out of Imperial reach. In that time, they had grown used to having no one to rely on but themselves. In that time, they had pushed the definitions of resourcefulness outward.

And now, for the first time in seven years, new crew members were coming aboard. Even aliens that Trajan had little to no experience with.

It would be a learning experience for all of them.

“Something like that, I suppose, Chief.” The Captain responded. “So, how are we looking?”

“Full refit is just about complete. Those Azguard beasties do know their stuff when it comes to certain systems.”

“But?” Trajan asked, suddenly concerned. He had not yet dealt with Azguards except for the occasional bureaucrat. Nobody liked red tape as much as the Azguard.

Their Coalition could burn down around them but, dammit, they’ll have a damn good record of it.

“The wee beasties wanted me to be more diplomatic to the engines!”

Trajan raised an eyebrow. “Come again?” This was not the first peculiarity he had heard from their new found alien friends.

The Chief was suddenly a tad uncomfortable. “Sir, you know our engine, the old Incom Galaxy Mark IV?”

Trajan nodded. The Galaxy engine was Incom’s answer to Kuat Drive Yard’s standard in engine/thrust technology. Incom’s Prepulsion Department had tried to compete by putting the Galaxy engine on the market but they had not planned very well (especially against a giant like Kuat) and so the project was discontinued. Still, the engine itself was sound and it’s interchangeable parts made the owner of a Galaxy engine a source of envy from those engineers that didn’t have one.

The New Republic at the time had purchased all the Galaxy engines Incom had on the floor and outfitted their warships with them.

From what Trajan remembered, the Coalition Refit Desk had wanted to pull the Galaxy and install four brand spanking new Genero-Tech workhorse power generators.

The Chief had thrown such a fit that Trajan decided to compromise. The Genero’s were installed but were installed around the Galaxy.

Trajan had heard from his second officer that the Chief was having problems with Coalition inspectors regarding his treatment of the Genero plants.

He made known his knowledge now. “I heard they wanted you to be more diplomatic? I don't know what that had to do with engineering...”

“Apparently," The Chief huffed, "they feel my engines will work better without me shouting at them.”

Trajan raised an eyebrow, “Sort of like the talking to a plant idea eh?”


‘Whatever sir! What I know is that I get results! I found one of those beastie recruits talking to an energizer link on B deck an hour ago.”

The Captain nearly grinned. “Was the link not working?”

“I slapped my hand on the bulk and the coupling energized. And the little nip had the gall,” the Chief was waving dramatically, “the gall, mind you, to chastise me.. ME!.. on the benefits of proper machine etiquette!!”

Trajan stifled a grin. “Where is he now?”

“Scrubbing the deck plating down on Level 7. That’ll teach ‘im the benefits of proper discipline and the chain of command!”

Trajan couldn't help but laugh at the Chief Engineers discomfort. Yes, everyone, human and alien, alike had a lot of learning to go.

"Just be ready to let off the moorings within the hour. It's time we gave the Mantis a proper shakedown, eh Chief?"


"Now that, sir, is a mighty fine idea! Just give the word!" the Engineer replied happily.