Ignias.

The planet was large, populated, clean, peaceful. For centuries it had been ruled over by Syndic Xekal'uraw'nmurouas, always following its pattern, the Parliment had always ruled under them...and they had always been the supremecy without question. But just the night before the last of Syndic Xekal'uraw'nmurouas had died in his bed...Lurawn Mnuerou, the last of the family. There were no others to take over the parliment...and thus the planets under Chiss rule broke off.

Ignias was left alone. The homeland and capital of Syndic Xekal'uraw'nmurouas. Now the lush green world had to fend for itself, defending itself from the cruel, harshness of the Unknown Regions.

It was a totally different galaxy out here. Something the New Republic, the New Order, even the Rogue Empire could not possibly imagine. The wilds of space were all around them, the dangers of uncharted planets and the creatures inhabiting around them were fresh.

The Chiss had never wandered far from their homes of Csilla and the surrounding planets. What need had there been? They were not an empire, they had no need to dominate others. The Chiss were content with where they stood. But now with Csilla in the hands of the New Republic and Ignias alone...what would they do?

Ignias had no leader. Just a broken up would be set of parliment members, tacticians, and ex-military advisors. That was it...and Supreme Prefect Sawl was all that was left of the great Syndics amongst them.




Supreme Prefect Ments'awl'aeruodae stood over the balcony of the former grand palace of Syndic Xekal'uraw'nmurouas, with what was left of the parliment bickering their endless debalces in ways that sent shivers of hatred running up his spine.

But the red eyed prefect stayed calm, his face impassive and expressionless. Supreme Prefect carried with it a high title, it gave him rights to the military powers of Ignias as well as a part of the massive political structure that made up the enclave. But there was something different about Chiss politics than Human politics.

When it came to Chiss politics it all revovled around how they could better the soceity of Chiss and make peace last as long as possible. Rarely if ever did anyone seek personal aims in the Chiss Parliment. This was why he chose such a position among the Chiss, where he could defend them with his life, and better their aims through politics.

But with the recent death of their leader and the last of his lineage...what could be done except squabble for power? No...he would not tolerate that, ever. Already the Imperial-Class Star Destroyer A'kla was forced to down two Clawcraft under the command of an ambitious general hoping to strike from them the enigma of power within Ignias.

The Chiss had no reason to be infighting over petty squabbles such as power. Power meant nothing to the Supreme Prefect. And with such...he would do everything in his power to prevent wars from hazarding the very foundation with which they built their soceity.

There was a sudden bleep on his commlink and he knew that the other prefects and councilors were calling him. He sighed in resignition...it was time once again.

"Sawl here," he said in his deep, echoing voice. Some had said he sounded like the out cast Mitth'raw'nuroudo. He seriously hoped not.

"Supreme Prefect Sawl please report to the Parliment Chamber for the meeting meant to commence at approximatley 1500," an enchanting voice called back through the commlink, the voice of Eshtal Nuroudo. She carried the proud name of Syndic Mitth'raw'nuroudo, no longer under the command of the rogue warlrod and rather under Baron Fel and his son Jagged Fel.

"Affirmative, I am on my way," he offered and switched off teh link. He hooked it back on his belt and sighed once more. Beyond the Palace of Ignias was the Great Lake of Ushtal and the city of Meledake.

His glowing eyes took a brief glance at them and he turned to leave. The gentle click of his black boots against the floor echoed throughout the marbel halls all around him. He made his way for the great chambers of Syndic Xekal'uraw'nmurouas's great meeting chamber.

He personally had been there hundreds of times and the enchanting lure of the hall had nevertheless been drowned out by experience. Now was just another meeting that he had no choice but to attend. He sighed once more and pushed open the door with one indigo hand.

I'd best get this over with.

He ran a hand through his blue-black hair in frustration as the guppies from House Nuroudo barked and yapped their pathetic ideals about how the CEDF could be used to crush the Republic at Csilla and retake their home, or how they needed to form a strong military with the backings of the political infrastructure of the Chiss Parliament...or what was left of it.

They had been thrown into chaos now as all but one of the colonies of the parliament, Ignias, had abandoned the cause after the Republic had taken Csilla and after the great plague...and after their leader's death.

"Oh will you have silence?" Syndic Xcenu'lau'csala barked, also known as Ulaulc, demanded. He was Syndic of the House Csala, leaders of the inner politics and resource distribution, and so far had made everything run together and well within the remnants of the parliament thanks to his quick thinking and knowledge of politics. "We are here to discuss the reinstitution of the remnant of the CEDF and regaining the colonies back into the parliament specifically that of Csilla. Syndic Baron Soontir Fel has volunteered to assist us in this manner."

The whole of the grand chamber turned to face General Fel, newest syndic of House Nuroudo, hand picked by the hero Syndic Mitth'raw'nuroudo. Sitting upon the tier across from Supreme Prefect Sawl, he peered dignantly at the syndic of House Csala. His son, Colonel Jagged, or Jag, Fel sat at attention next to him. If he had any pride at this moment it certainly was not showing.

"Yes I have, and along with House Nuroudo we would be pleased to re-establish the collective and contingent of planets that were stolen from us," he said boomingly, his authority well known to all the three thousand Chiss in the room.

He was a strange one, an Imperial pilot who had come to Csilla with Grand Admiral Thrawn...the only Human with any real knowledge of the way to their home, Csilla.

"Thank you Syndic Soontir Fel," the other said. Fel took his seat.

Supreme Prefect Sawl however remained prudently silent, he had nothing to add here...despite the fact that he truly wanted to get involved with this discussion deciding the enclave's fate.





"What is the verdict?" Sawl's mistress, Nekae'ool'aeroudae, asked, taking his arm as he exitted the grand meeting hall of the Enclave of the Chiss. He shook his head in disappointment as he walked with her.

She was a beautiful young Chiss, standing five foot nine and always gowned in glittersilk, the Supreme Prefect's personal favorite. He had often complimented on her beauty, and had mockingly called her eyes the fairest in all the galaxy, but she had often rubbed it off as flattery.

"They will not condone to aggression as usual," he said, walking with her and placing his own indigo hand on her's as they walked.

"That is the correct course of action is it not my lord?"

"In this instance...I do not know. Were we not struck first?" he countered as they rounded a corner into a longer corridor where several executive faces were seen.

"It shall be alright sir," she said, picking up the pace a bit.

"I hope you are right."

Eoolae took Sawl's arm gently into her hand as they watched over the skies that embedded Ignias's skies. A gentle twilight creating a magnificent canvas of color and light casted its brilliance over Stronghold Aeroudae, the grandstructure that housed House Aeroudae and the Helix Phalanx for centuries on end. Sawl squinted his glowing red eyes with mild frustration at the gleaming light of the great sun that watched the planet over with its loving eyes.

So far the whole vote, the whole damn decision all lie in his hands. Half of the parliament voted reiteration of the Colonist Imperial Act, where the parliament would regain their lost territories surrounding what was left of their space through any means necessary. This involved espionage, open warfare, and massed ship construction. Fortunately for the Parliament House Aeroudate and their Helix Phalanx had already begun construction on reforming the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet after the tragic Battle of Nuola, where Seperationist Activists openly assaulted the fleet with stolen ships of their own...and those that weren't destroyed now worked in the civil seperation movement against the Chiss Parliament.

And now, with the council locked in a dead center vote, it all depended on Supreme Prefect Sawl's and his house's vote. If they agreed on the Reiteration Colonist Imperial Act they would in no time at all receive their lost territories...but it would most likely be at the cost of honor. What provocation was there? The enclave, which was now replacing the crumbling parliament, was in shambles and held an almost unstable government. Even if they managed to knock out the few kinks remaining in the structure, who was to say the Enclave were the rightful perpetrators of the high council of the former parliament?

This throbbed in the back of Sawl's mind. What was he to do? Let their honor go to waste by aggression? The very thing he'd fought so hard to ban in the parliament? They needed provocation, they could not charge head on into battle, fighting for the "Good of the Chiss Empire"...there was no Chiss Empire...it was a basis of political and idealistic views that derived on a single accurate level of competence in lack of inevitable hostilities without much needed provocation. Provocation was the key...and without it...the Enclave might as well burn in a fiery pit before assaulting others with dishonorable aggression.

Perhaps that was why the New Order had fallen...they were aggressive...they broke the ancient law that quite importantly stated that aggression will always result in the downfall of a soceity, as stated by the great philosopher Nmued'plae'veroa. Dplaev had stated that to create a firm and everlasting genesis one would need to sacrifice their greedy hostilities unless proven that there is no other way to end a potential threat to one's being. Political strature meant nothing in war to the Chiss...sheer survival meant everything.

There was no economoy, they was now heiarchy, there was no tax with the Chiss. It all derived from federal distribution of resources for the better good of the Parliament and the persons inside. Even if the chain of government fell for some inherint reason, as it was now, that did not mean the Chiss way of life would crumble and fall as well. Their way of life balanced everything out, because they were not greedy or ambitious.

As his mistress held his arm gently she could notice that her master's eyes were swelling with frustration, his hands gripped in tightly embalmed fists. The black leather of his gloves stretched and made little scratching noises as it was pulled in awkward positions.

"Is all well sir?" she dared to ask, not sparing a blink when staring into him. He nodded and let his hand loosen, the fingers hanging back to his sides.

"I am alright...this is just a much difficult decision," he responded calmly, all hints and traces of his momentary rage completely disintegrated into nothingess. "The Gencore Level Two shield generator will be up soon..." he said changing the subject but slowly drifting off. "Then Ignias will be restorted to its former defensive superstructure."

"What of the Phalanx Division? How is the recruitment coming?"

He sighed almost sadly. "It is coming...but not as well as I had liked. Our numbers rank a lowly two thousand...two thousand. Not two hundred thousand, not twenty thousands...two thousands. I have never seen our army so small...I cannot imagine how House Nuroudo is taking this."

"They are certainly not taking it as well as you sire," she said with a brisk smile. He offered his own smile in response but did no further. He rather looked downward as his hands gripped onto the balcony of his stronghold. Beyond the great gardens of his home could be seen the construction site where his family worked ever so hard on finishing their defenses that would keep any intruders out...fortunately.

If someone were to stumble on his home they would no doubt try valiantly to take it from him. He would never let that happen, not while he still lived.

"I must retire and nap before I return to the council with my decision," he said, ending any conversation she was preparing to start. There was almost a pouty look on her face. "Do not quarrel, I shall return soon, I promise. Only an hour or two shall I rest before coming to greet you off."

He nodded to her and began turning to head off to his quarters, but he was stopped by a firm hand on his chest. He turned his head casually to face her with rapidly blinking eyes. She grinned for a moment before touching her lips to his with an elegant smile.

"Know that whatever your decision is, my heart is with you my love," she said soothingly. This ignited a warming sensation through the prefect's body and he returned her kiss momentarily.

"I thank you for that," he said, only supressing a stutter through training. "I shall keep it in mind."

She had never told him her feelings...she had never said anything more than she was a mere member of his house. Now he realized why she had waited with him for long hours, daunting his political jabbery. She loved him. And that was a feeling he would trade his entire being for.

He nodded to her as they exchanged embraces, and thus he was off to nap, to clear his head before the great vote.

Weary eyes drifted open reluctantly at the sound of the buzzing alarm next to his bed, and despite the comforts of a shimmersilk bed, Supreme Prefect Sawl lifted his body from the drowsy state. But when his consciousness finally came to fully he realized the buzzing alarm was not that of his alarm chrono that he had set on his shelf. Gazing at it he realized he'd only slept a half an hour.

Focusing ahead on the hallway beyond his room he tried to decipher what form of alarm was sounding in his complex? Fire? Spy?

It was almost a hoarse cry, like a senada of wails first down, then up, then down, then up and then down again. It was an attack. An attack on the House Aeroudae? There had not been a strike on Ignias, or the Aeroudaes for that matter, for almost three hundred years, what was going on?

A small pop in the halls got him fully awakened from his thirty minute slumber, and he reached for the small and ancient DL-44 in his nightstand and proceeded carefully. Another small amount of pops were heard and finally a chorus of what sounded like battle cries.

Sawl treaded carefully forward and peeked around the corner of his room, where a sudden cry of obvious laser fire had just been heard. Particles of light shot out around the halls and smoke shot up from all the points the beams of light had hit.

Several Chiss corpses were strung about in front of the private quarters, their weapons looted from their body but their tabards and pendents of House Aeroudae shown proudly. These men had died in honor serving their master.

He could not make out most of the hollers cried out amidst the battle, which was quite typical among two lines of infantry duking it out for the sake of their combatant leader, but he did manage to decipher the words "back" and "retreat". Sawl could not put his finger on the voice however.

But then a rush of men in black and blue tabards withdrew at top speeds, running down the corridor toward him as laser fire shot behind them. Those were the colors of his own house! His house was in a route!

"What the hell is going on?" he cried out to one of the soldiers who were frantically pulling back. They turned in a crimson eyed glare of desperation at the house master, a torn struggle between survival and one's duty to the syndic.

"We're being attacked, General Ualo tried to pincer them off, but they just have too many. The 109th Clawfighter Squadron is in the air trying to hold back their wave of Scimitars sir but it's just not working, there's so many of them," the soldier managed to mutter out before the next wave of blasterfire singed past them just barely. Sawl slapped him on the back and nodded.

"Ok get to your rally point, you'll be ok."

"I hope so sire," he said and ran off with the rest of the men. Sawl sighed inwardly to himself and hauled as fast as he could down the hall where the blasterfire was coming from, sulking into the shadows where hopefully no one would see him.

No one attacks House Aeroudae



As the vicious bombing raids continued to pound the overhead balcony of the House Aeroudae Eoolae felt a tear come to her eye, the great halls of marble and other precious stone was being crushed under the weight of thousand pound bombs, bombs that had no place touching the royal asylum of Syndic Ments'awl'auroudae.

"My lady we have to leave now, the 109th can defend us while we withdraw but only if we do so now!" the baron of the house pled, and Nekaeu'ool'aeroudae knew that he was so determined to escape more for his own preservation than her's. And if he had fled without her there would no doubt be dire consequences from their syndic. His reluctance to withdraw selfishly was so soothing to, for it no doubt meant that Sawl was still alive.

"I will not withdraw without the syndic of this house and if you would do so without him would truly portray your cowardice," she countered dangerously, her eyes flaming with hatred for the man. The noble turned a not quite equally stern glare on her that merely faltered under her own.

"Pah to the hells with you! The syndic is dead!" and with those words he boarded the shuttle outbound. She spat on the very ground he had stood on and swore at him viciously.

"Coward," she barked out, her voice thundering louder than the hundreds of explosions all around the garden. "I will find my love," she then told herself quietly, and gripping the E-11 blaster rifle in her hand, she ran inside.



There had been a large concentration of infantry support based around the hallways it seemed, probably trying to cut off passageways for those attempting to flee the house. These were probably the Nuroudoan Radicalists, or the Pride of Nuroudo as they had called themselves.

They were a radical bunch basing themselves on promoting the ways of the New Order for the preservation of the Chiss Parliament. Were they that stupid? To promote the ways of the New Order was to destroy the Chiss Parliament. This was madness.

Sure enough, after getting a good look at one of the tabards, Sawl could safely say it was a Nuroudoan Radicalist faction, and that would mean if they won...all commanders, officers, and leaders within the house would be put to death in a most painful manner. The syndic's being the worst.

Many times over a wave of Chiss would charge in valiantly from the House's or the Phalanx's garrison, only to be cut down dispicably. It was an ill fate, and so many times did Sawl want to charge out and cut the radicalists to pieces. But alas, what was the point of sending scientists through a blackhole? If they could overcome it they would conquer en masse, but most likely they would fail...and that would be even less scientists. Why die valiantly and lose when you can fight in a while and win?

This was the strategy of Supreme Prefect Sawl, to wait it out until there was strength, until there was an oppurtunity...and take it. To rip down the enemy without blinding rage but with perfect calm.

For what seemed like hours which had only been minutes he sat in the darkness, growing tense with both frustration and fear. When finally the time came that the infantry left their commander unguarded, Sawl took advantage of this, moving in on his flank.

The barrel of the aging weapon was pressed against the temple of the other Chiss who was predominantly older than Sawl, but perhaps not quite as wise. This brought a pasteful grin to his face that was quite egotistical in all ways.

"Don't move," the younger Chiss ordered, and a trumpet of victory went off in his mind as those hands slowly lifted from his sides. "Now...come around and-," he could never finish his sentence as a wave of gunfire came from the opposite of the corridor, but fortunately the E-WEB was here...and unguarded. Thinking quickly and instinctively Sawl pulled the trigger, and watched as the older commander winced, preparing to die.

But nothing happened.

Nothing happened!

He'd forgotten to put in the power pack! It looked like now would be the end. Sawl sighed and looked up...at least he had had one gentle kiss from his mistress before-

Another wave of blasterfire came and he winced readily, but nothing happened to him. Opening his indigo eyelids, a smile beamed his face as he saw the squad drop to the ground in a death heap.

"Excellent," he said with a sly grin. "Status report?"

"Sir," the commander of the newest battalion reported, snapping to attention, "all Nuroudoan Radicalists are in full retreat, we have routed their fighter craft and their infantry are piling out of the fortress, we shall have the last of them rounded up in less than two hours."

Sawl nodded. "Excellent soldier," he said firmly, "let's go round up our survivors." Oh to tell Eoolae of the battle they'd all fought, to hold her in his arms once more would be ever so spectacular indeed.

And they were off.



"Where are they?" Sawl asked calmly as they looked at the strewn about wreckage that was once a great landing pad for the house. They were looking for survivors...where the hell were they?

"Usually sire they are buried under the wreckage, so-,"

"Sir!" one of the guards called, pain wreacking his voice. Sawl blinked and ran over to him, avoiding the tripping stones all about.

"What is it?" he looked down to where the guard was looking...and screamed in pain and anger. There, lying amongst the ruins and wreckage lay his precious Eoolae. Her face was downed with blood, the color leaving her flesh. "No...no!" They had taken her from him...he would pass his vote indisputeably.

He had provocation.

OOC: Contact me. Just by glancing at that first paragraph, it would seem you've got the TRF history of the Chiss utterly wrong.

"House Aeroudae, please rise," the chairman for the Enclave called out, his deep voice booming the acoustics of the great council hall. Supreme Prefect Sawl, from the second tier ahead of the chairman's pillar-like podeum. His medals shook and clanged lightly as he stood attentitively before the other councilers and commanders, the syndics and the mistresses. All eyes were on him, the very decision of the war rested on Sawl's next words, all of it rested on his shoulders. "House Aeroudae, the vote is stuck at a dead tie, thirteen-thirteen, where does House Aeroudae stand in relation to this conflict?"

A moral decision stood before the indigoskinned Chiss, to aggress against enemies and former sovereigns which was against the way of the Chiss, or watch as Nuroudo Radicalists harassed and even murdered Igniasi civilians. The decision had been made when Supreme Prefect Sawl's mistress and lover had been killed by a raid of radicalists known as the Pride of Nuroudo.

"House Aeroudae...and the Helix Phalanx," he started, sighing as if to say the words were a strain, but then he remembered Eoolae," vote that the threats to the Enclave from the outlying colonies is far too substantial to surpass." Several eyes widened with both joy and horror, gleaming red orbsl ike Enilikee fireflies dotted the chamber. A new vigot built inside of Sawl and he knew it was time. "We have been struck viciously and without provocation, to defeat the planets and moons aroudn us cannot constitute as aggression but rather self preservation. House Aeroudae votes for the Reclaimation Act."

Hollers of outrage plummted the hall, and then a chorus of excitement while the words were finally thrown into the open. Sawl relaxed against the cushioned chair behind him as the mallet in the chairman's hand smashed against the podeum countless time in an effort to gain silence. So many other Chiss were screaming and calling out arguements in an attempt to overthrow the ruling, but it was a useless attempt. It was almost pathetic how they tried to change destiny.

Sawl took his time to rise and make way for the exit from his tier, confident in his decision. There was nothing mroe to do here. Soon the phalanxes would be transported and reassigned defensively around Ignias while the CEDF was prepped to knock out the defense of all the planets around the Enclave.

This was war.



Sawl found himself walkinga lone down the Enclave Halls, a tear coming to his scarlet eye as he did so. The prefect was walking without the beautiful Eoolae at his arm as she always had for years on end. Now there was no pressure on his arm, no warmth of her body, or enticing, flowering smell of her perfume. This was what the soldiers had referred to when they talked about the pains of loss.

"Supreme Prefect!" a voice called out from behind him, and he cursed mentally for the timing. He had no time or desire for post vote debate. He stopped tentatively before the voice called to him again. He did an about face to peer at the oncomer, and Sawl was honestly surprised at who it was, especially at the fact that he did not recognize his voice. General Nemern Nuroudo turned a welcoming smile on his old friend.

"How may I help you sir?" Supreme Prefect Sawl asked, prudently acting unimpressed despite his true feelings.

"I have new orders from the Enclave," Nemern responded with a touch of hidden aggrovation to his voice and smile.

"Already?" Sawl asked in an attempt to hinder the mood of the conversation. "That was awfully fast, were they even done arguing over my vote?" This won him both a true smile and a chuckle from the Supreme Commander of Enclave Forces.

"Well actually the orders have been written for some time now, your vote made them active," he explained.

"I'm honored," Sawl said while turning to elave. Under normal circumstances, though they were not of the same branch, he would show more military courtesy but right here and now he was not interested. Nemern's hand gripped the forearm of the prefect and spun him around.

"Wait wait wait," he said, "that's not why I came to se you." Sawl turned and offered a quirked blue-black eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"I want to offer you a position on the Joint Chiefs of Staff." The prefect merely stared at the Nuroudo. "A subordinate position that is."

"Subordinate?" the prefect echoed with a grin.

"Why, yes, a subordinate to myself," Nemern said matter-of-factly, as if the prefect should have known that already. Sawl hwoever was taken back, that was an awfully high position in the chain of command. Surely there were other, better tacticians and strategists amongst Ignias.

"Why me?" he pressed dubiously.

"Who else do we have that can offer such power?" Nemern coutnered. Sawl certainly was not complaining. Why would he? But it almost seemed like something was amiss.

Then the question came to the blue-skinned syndic, and he asked, "What of Syndic-General Soontir Fel?"

"He is off to the Inner Regions."

"And his son Colonel Fel?"

"Going with his father." That was certainly a peculiar position, but perhaps it was for the best. Chiss knew their own people, they should lead a conflict for their unity, not a lost Imperial. "Besides," the Nuroudo continued, "we need someone who's heart is in this war." That was a politically double-edged sword. If Sawl had been any younger or even any older he would have taken it the wrong way and assumed he was referring to his loss. This would cause such rage in the prefect at the other's sheer odacity and turn him away. However, Sawl took it for what it was; the point that he would be a Chiss fighting for his home.

"What would this position entail?" he asked.

"Undisputed power of the Phalanxes, subrodinate command of the CEDF, and you'll be working with us on exectuive and all important strategic decisions," Nemern explained calmly as Sawl indulged it like an eager scholar would his teacher.

"Any field action?"

"Any that you please." He had made the mistake of taking so long to decide before and it had cost him Eoolae, he'd learned from that mistake as any good Chiss should have.

"I'll do it," Sawl said, almost excitedly. Hands were shaken and a deal was arranged. Syndic-Supreme Prefect Sawl had been awarded a new title to add to his long list.


He toko one lastl ook at House Aeroudae with newly emphasized astonishment. Not since Eoolae's death had Sawl honsetly scanned the damage done to his home. Scorch marks and impact craters were all over the walls and passage-ways, speeders were toppled over, and his precious garden was singed and trampled over. E-WEB Repeating Rifles were set up along most of the hidden locations and black-red tabars patrolled the roads.

The statue of his grandfather was toppled over on its side, the ancient crest of Aeroudae charred from obvious flame. It appeared that there were still E-11s littering the groudn where soldiers had fallen and discarded their arms.

He'd never seen the house in such a fragile state, it was so diminutive, so fickle now. Was the afore week's battle really a success? Could such a catastrophic battle be called victory? The persons of House Aeroudae seemed not to think so.

"Are you ready sir?" a voice behind him bade. He turned on an about face to observe the Chiss behind him, the pilot of the shuttlecraft which would ferry him up to the orbital command station. That would be the meeting point for the Enclave Military Staff, where they would convene on the war.

It took Sawl a moment, but he finally nodded. "Yes I'm ready," he said finally. It felt like he was leaving home for some long journey, like he may never see the house again. Under normal circumstances the prefect would be standing and hearing Eoolae's praise on his "handsome green uniform". His red eyes moistened as another tear came to, but he wiped it away quickly. The pilot seemed to understand and waited very patiently.

When Sawl was finally ready he boarded the shuttle without question, finding a nice cushioned seat and waited for the take off. He lifted his flimsiplast and read over the reports and newsfeeds to pass the time and prepare himself for the meeting. He'd wondered if Ulah, the first of the former colonies planned for war, had acknowledged the declaration yet. According to the reports, they had:





So it had begun. War had returned to Chiss-space and now everyone would suffer the consequences of his vote. Maybe he'd made the wrong decision. Perhaps he was being too selfish, too brash? But then he gazed down at the house and saw the destruction such cowards had caused and knew he'd made the right decision.

The shuttle accelerated in speed slightly, probably trying to break through the atmospheric traction. The inertial compensator kicked in then, preventing him from being pinned to his seat by the centriphical force. When the shaking stopped, he went back to reading, admonishing in the news provided. Some of it was laughable simply because of the lack of information news reporters had to work with.

"We will be arriving at the station soon, hold tight sir," the pilot explained over the headset. Sawl nodded, though the other could not see him. Soon.




A loud clang called out as the shuttle touched down on the hangar deck of the orbital command station of Ignias, declaring Supreme Prefect Sawl's arrival, stating that the meetings could begin. A smile wedged onto his face as he heard the hissing of the opening landing ramp that he would soon exit. He would exit it into the beginning of the war.

The feeling of total command was an exhilerating emotion, one that felt like you could assure victory in a way that no other could. Of course Sawl brushed that feeling asside, it was just pre-war arrogance. The Enclave were fighting their equals, neither side was really needy for a conflict, but they would anyway. And for what really? So they could own more land? So there would be no opposition to the Enclave's power?

Sawl knew full well why he was fighting: to insure the safety of Ignias and the Chiss way of life. To make certain others would not suffer from the same loss he had. That could only occur when the Enclave had total control of the remaining colonies. This war would do just that.

He rose elegantly from his seat, brushing off his crisp, green uniform, and began walking toward the landing ramp. As he walked his medals beat lightly against his chest, a light rhythmatic tune singing from it. Sawl squinted his eyes at the bright light from the hangar bay. He pretended his sensative, red eyes did not notice, but it was quite obvious.

Other than the honor guard, no one had come to greet him, to see that he was welcomed and brought to the Strategy Commander Center, or SCC - the heart of the station. Shrugging off the infracture in protocol, he walked slowly down the hangar aby to where he thought would take him to the center or somewhere near it at least.

But halfway down the lines of honor guard one particularly decorated Chiss exitted the lines and marched in front of the Supreme Prefect before doing a left face to regard him. Salutes were exchanged and the lower guard returned to attention.

"Sir I have been instructed to take you to the Strategy Command Center," he pronounced proudly, with all that military discipline accenting his voice, a pleasant change from change from the laziness of the political accent. Sawl nodded his affirmation and the ingi-skinned officer did an about face toward the turbolift at the end of the room. All was silent save the echos of their tapping boots as they walked, their military training apparent all the while.

The lift door hissed open and both men entered, Sawl waited for the guard to enter a few keys and buttons that sent the lift spiraling up the long pole like beam that supported it enthusiastically. The ride was drowned with silence, neither soldier even desiring to lift the apparent lack of sound save for the spiraling motors of the lift, what was there to talk about? The war? What good would that do? Cause pain for both of them for knowing thousands would soon die?

"You first," the guard said suddenly, breaking Sawl's chain of thought. The door had opened itself and the cold, condensing air from the vents pressed against the two of them. The prefect nodded and proceeded forward from the clastraphobic lift. The Chiss entered a large, cold, and quiet corridor going both left and right, btu before Sawl could even ask, the honor guard was leading them down the right hand path. There were two turns along the way, one left followed later by a turn right until they came before an enormous, seven foot high durasteel door obviously designed to withstand a battle ready force. Over the top it read: <font size=1>STRATEGY COMMAND CENTER</font> and below that <font size=1>SCC</font>.

The guard instructed him to place his paln on a red pad of some sort that he recognized as a palm reader, which gave off a loud hum and a bright light.

"Identification confirmed, welcome Supreme Prefect Sawl," a female voice told him and the enormous doors slid open to reveal the most spectacular command station he'd ever seen. There were four hundred square yards of sheer strategic and tactical power. The chiefs of staff could fight the entire war without ever leaving that room.

"I shall be leaving you now, good luck sir," the guard said before leaving him to stand alone before the countless computers and operators of the machines that would win this war. It took him a moment for it all to sink in, but when it did he could not supress his gleeful smile in the least.

He felt like a child in a candy store, wanting to touch and try everything before moving ont o the next. He would never grow tired of this room, it was like a dreamland to him.

"Remarkable isn't it?" a voice from beside him said, startling him. When he turned to face the other he noticed a familiar Chiss smirking. It was Vice-Syndic Mitta'ewl'nuroudo, the subordinate to the late Mitth'raw'nuroudo's house, and Soontir Fel's current.

"Do you have a habit of doing that?" Sawl asked grumpily, as if the other had awakened him from a spectacular dream. Taewln's face shot him an akward glance.

"Habit of doing what?" he asked feigning innocence. For some odd reason he had always held a grudge against Sawl for his incredible physical similarities and looks to the last syndic, the late Admiral Thrawn.

"Nevermind," Sawl scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "So what are you doing here?"

"Well, the supreme commander wanted teh syndic of House Nuroudo, and needed a commander of the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet...and as you probably know Fel is out for now," Taewln responded proudly. Sawl simply quirked an eyebrow. Oh great, just what we need, a self-important would be Nuroudo, Sawl thought to himself. Of course he'd awlays looked up to and admired House Nuroudo, there were just certain individuals he would not trust for the galaxy.

This was one of those individuals.

"I see," he responded, feigning interest, "you must be honored."

"Indeed." Sawl needed to change the subject hastily.

"What is the current situation?" This got another smirk to etch itself on the Nuroudo's blue face.

"Why that's exactly why I was sent to meet you, to brief you on the situation."

"Oh?" Sawl asked. How typical of this specific Nuroudo to forget all about his duties so he could brag of his position that required those duties.

"Aye," the two started across the enormous room, taking a catawalk that would take them over the computers and CommScans and various other equipment. "As it stands we do not have enough resources to actually fight the Kharins, a war against them at this exact moment would be a catastrophe. We have no armor, minimal warships, and only three active phalanxes."

The Kharins were any Chiss from the planetary system of Khar, the planet claiming sanction to the Nuroudo Radicalists, and who responded first to the declaration of war. The Khar Phalanx had been reknown for its brutality but ability to get the job done extremely efficiently.

"How many phalanxes do the Kharins have?" Sawl interrupted.

"Seven, and they're constantly growing, people want to follow someone who can promise them glory," Taewln reponsded grimly as well as sadly. "Ulah and Ares have already either agreed and sided with the Kharis or uh...were forced to agree and side with them. Yes...they mobilize very quickly, with their stolen phalanxes and portion of the CEDF they have twelve invasion battalions and seven armor divisions."

"So obviously we cannot win the ground war with Khar," Sawl observed.

"Not yet, we're arleady putting plans into motion to stomp down their groudn force."

"Oh?"

"Their air force is laughable, maybe a whole twenty five craft per division. Furthermore they have very few Clawcraft, the bulk of their force is TIE Advanced or Scimitar Bombers, no match for our air force. Our plan is to, when we confront them, to launch waves on waves of aerial attacks on their garrisons. But, as was said before, we don't have the materials to put up a real fight against them. Therefore Varines and Slea are our first two targets."

"Varines for the precious ship building metals and Slea for the food and tibanna gas," Sawl said with realization. "But then again that throws our forces away from Ignias and in the opposite direction of Khar."

"Yes but if we get those planets we'll be able to actually put up a fight against them," Taewln countered. "Besides, the Kharins control a mass amount of space leading up to those planets. Remember we need to stop their advancement southward, otherwise they'll be able to do pincer assaults on Ignias itself. The Kharins are already mobilizing to take down Retone in only a few weeks."

"And the attacks southward are the trigger for their other invasions?"

"Exactly." The two stopped in front of a normal sized but exquisitley designed door reading: <font fize=1>COMMAND STAFF ROOM</font>. Sawl felt his gut wrench wit excitement, overriding the sinking feeling of dread that had been building inside of him throughout the entire briefing.

The door opened to reveal a room full of the enclave's greatest strategists and tacticians, and Sawl wanted to simply stand there and revel in it longer before he was guided to his seat happily.

The Enclave's Joint Chiefs of Staff was quite a bit larger than Sawl had originally thought, boasting seventeen members itnead of the thought eight, one for every branch of the military and a few subordinates. The way he was used to involved a Supreme Commander, the Supreme General of the Army, the Supreme Admiral of the Navy, Supreme Commander of the Space and Air Force, Supreme Cmomander of Special Forces, Supreme General of the Jelik Corps, and whatever subrodinates were brought, such as Sawl.

Now there were those chiefs, four subordinates, counting the Supreme PRefect - the Chief Minister of Intelligence, the Master of Diplomatic Arts, Chief of Naval Opeartions, and the Supreme Enclave Chairman. Sawl held two positions around the table, the Supreme Prefect of Ignias and Vice Commander of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. That gave him considerable power for as a prefect he held power over nearly all Phalanx Divisions and home defenses, while as the Vice Chief he completed his control over those very phalanxes indisputeably, along with a major portion of the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet, or CEDF. Then of course he held considerable political influence...

"As the situation stands both sides are going to have to basically race for resources," Nemern, the Supreme Commander began, "Ignias just does not have the proper output we need for a war against Khar, but fortunately they cannotw age war against us for the same reason."

"If I may ask," the diplomat interrupted, "why are we quarreling Khar? I thought this was a joint war against radicalists and to regain lost territory?"

"Because Khar is the home to House Felorua, the Nuroudo Radicalists, and are trying the same thing we are," Nemern explained. "Fortunately thanks to Supreme Prefect Sawl we are in the middle of developing a submergel craft of considerable power. It will allow us to crush both enemy supply lines and warships with relative ease. That will be important, seeing as the Kharins will be losing dramatically on supplies they need.

"But my friends, they hold most of the old CEDF, and that puts us at a tremendous disadvantage. When the fleet broke up, they quickly raided and stole most of it, killing several defiant crew members in the process. Thanks to Minister of Intelligence Eiten we know the exact numbers of Khar's space, air, and naval forces, and we know that while they can mobilize and strike twice as fast as we ever could their resources are being massively depleted from such actions. But still the fact reamins they control far more territory than we do.

"Our Master of Diplomatic Arts informs me that since most of the planets are being forcefully occupied, if we destroy the garrisons there the populace will leap into our arms. So our plans shall work as so:

"While the Helix and Aura Phalnxes finish constructing the CEDF will dispatch to both Slea and Varines - Slea first - and take the planets by any means necessary. When the planet itself is secured, we shall have the Helix Phalanx jump in to garrison it, where we shall proceed to extract resources.

"From there we need to begin breaking the backs of the Kharins to the north east of our position, starting with Srephes. But our ultimate goal will be to thwart the invasion of Retone, which will cause them to literally crumble in on themselves." For several more hours they plotted and planned their strategies to overthrow Khar, all the while Sawl simply nodded and smiled. This was what he had loved most.

OOC Note: This is not closing the thread, it is simply closing this part of the thread. Thank you.



Supreme Prefect Sawl as the last of the transports disembarked from his newly constructed Allegiance-Class Super Star Destroyer, making their way firmly to the planet Slea. Slea which would benefit the Enclave far more than a little.

The planet was made up of seven nations, each congruently ruling with one another, each benefiting each other in one way or another. And although the nations had been known to war more than once, they never sought the other's destruction, and in the end always prospered back to originality.

Now with the last of the transports debarking troops to occupy the planet, he felt a warm rush of pride course through his body.

Slea would be the first stepping stone to rebuilding the enclave and the parliament.