“All systems are go, sir.”

Corise nodded, viewing the bulky cruisers of the Kashan Defence Fleet from the observation bridge. A pair of Deathsabers roared over the Seraph, his flagship, making their last scans before the mock battle. While the Seraph was the first cruiser built by Kashan, it too had been upgraded, making it indistinguishable from the other cruisers of the Fleet. But once onboard the vessel, it was easy to see that it was the flagship from the more ornate décor and the presence of only crack units onboard the ship.

“All units switch to the training simulation mode,” ordered the Kashan commodore.

“Blue Fleet reports they’re ready.”

“We’re ready as well sir.”

“Commence the simulation.”

As part of the mobilization for war, the Kashan Fleet had been split into two equal training fleets, Blue and Red. Over the days, they had undergone computer simulations against ships of the other factions. However, they had not performed with their actual ships. Thus, as a finale of the training, they would be pitted against each other.

In this scenario, Blue Fleet, led by Commander Fyre, was the aggressor with the objective to neutralize Red Fleet and land Blue troops on Kashan. Red Fleet was charged with preventing the troops from being landed and driving back the opposing fleet.

Commander Thomas Fyre was the son of Sola Fyre, founder of the Kashan colony. His father had taught him well and Tom had graduated at the top of his class from the Defence College. He was well-known for coming up with unorthodox maneuvers and strategies, making him a difficult opponent to predict, and thus, to defeat. Still, he was several years junior to Corise, his direct superior. It wasn’t the first time they had been pitted against each other, and the fights were usually quite close, with either one just barely winning. While Corise believed his XO to be his equal as a tactician, the commander had much to learn about the other aspects of naval life, such as morale or supplies. He shook his head from the thoughts as a voice rose over the din from the crewpit.

“We are detecting multiple hyperspace signals.”

“That would probably be Blue Fleet,” commented Commodore Lucerne, pacing back to his command chair.

“Sir, they’re too small to be any known capital ships.”

Corise frowned. He had automatically assumed that Blue Fleet would automatically jump in and a conventional naval battle would follow. Obviously, Blue Fleet had other plans and he couldn’t make that mistake again. He leaned back in his command chair, somewhat puzzled before cold realization had set in.

“They’re either launching Starflares at us, sending out Deathsabers to soften us up, or maybe both. And we won’t be able to tell.”

“I want sustained flak bursts where we detect any cronau-radiation from all weapons. Form the interceptor screen as well. Do we have the location of Blue Fleet?”

“No sir.”

“Dispatch some of our fighters to find it immediately.”

“Yes sir.”

The area surrounding Kashan was lit up with vibrant bursts of ruby and sapphire like a fireworks show. Occasionally, the sensors would show that a missile had been successfully detonated. But some missiles made it through the heavy flak wall of Red Fleet, detonating on the shields of the durable Kashan ships. The bridge lights of the Seraph waned as energy was diverted to keep the shields up.

“Switch to auxiliary shields. Get a repair crew to fix the old generators.”

“Sir, Deathwatch 7 has spotted Blue Fleet.”

“Patch our Starflare missiles targeting computers to take the data from Deathwatch 7. Send in a couple more scouts around Blue Fleet to provide more targeting data. Those fighters are under strict orders to evade the enemy at all costs.”

“Aye sir.”

“Helm, take us twenty kilometers to our starboard; lets see if we can foul up their own missile strikes.”

“Yes sir.”

The slow cruisers of Red Fleet began to make their slothful maneuver, all while continuing the endless flak waves against their opponents and launching a flurry of Starflares at their opponents. Corise sighed. Because the Kashan ships were only slightly faster than the decades old ISD, he would have to recommend a faster capital ship to supplement the medium cruisers.

The tide was turning against Blue Fleet, which had previously been striking at their opposition without fear of reprisal. Now, the scouts of Red Fleet were providing superior targeting data to the point where many of the missiles were dropping out of hyperspace only several hundred meters from their target. This counterstrike of missiles in turn lashed back into the opposing ranks. In order to make his own missile strikes more effective, Corise had chosen to coordinate the weapons to attack in pairs. The first missile, with an ion warhead, took out the shields while the second, usually a proton warhead, hit the actual hull. Luckily for all ships involved, the missiles were only simulated as the real ones would not only damage the Seraphs, but would be rather costly as well.

“Blue Fleet is making the jump. I don’t think they can take much more damage.”

Blue Fleet reverted in realspace to where Red Fleet should have been. However, that area had become one of the newer areas targeted by the defending fleet for flak barrages to destroy enemy missiles. As such, Blue Fleet found themselves immediately being fired on before they could raise their shields. But since the cruisers used Ultrachrome, they were only exposed to the kinetic force of the blasts, which the tough hull plating and its reinforced frame could easily take.

“Sir, Blue Fleet is attempting to make a run for the planet. It appears that they’ve diverted all power to their engines.”

“Tractor them immediately.”

The tractor beam projectors of the Kashan ships caught onto their counterparts, slowing them down as Corise unleashed his Deathsabers for bombing runs against their compatriots. Type B Starflares were also being launched from both sides, with the end result of many ships attempting to switch from their main shields to their auxiliary shields and vice-versa. Those caught in the middle of performing the operation were damaged to the point where they were registered as destroyed on the sensor screen.

“We’ve lost the Redoubtable. The Surprise and Revenant have been destroyed.”

“Right.”

“Sir, we’re receiving a message from the capitol with an order to cease all military operations immediately.”

“Forward the message to all ships. What is it?”

Corise scanned over the written version of the document and pondered it. If that was true, military simulations would have to wait.

“Order all ships to be ready to jump out-of-system within the next day.”

“Yes sir.”

The doors noiselessly slid open, admitting Commodore Corise Lucerne into the Kashan War Room, the briefing room for the heads of the Kashan military. It was a circular chamber some 300 meters underground and made in the Ferrocrete and Durasteel fashion that dominated Kashan architecture. The furnishings were unusually ornate, with a semi-circular black marble table oriented around a large holo-projector. The other half of the room had monitors along with control consoles for the various branches of the Kashan military. Across from the only entry into the room, Pro-Consul Christina Thorn silently welcomed him in, the last of the military heads.

“Now that we are all here, I believe that I must be blunt and to the point. Coalition intelligence has been briefing us on the current situation of the Coalition, including the various wars. As you are all well-aware of, we are next to the border of Black Dragon space and will likely be one of their first targets if we are discovered.

Thus far, we have not; most likely because the nebula shields us from that side of space. However, based on their expansionary past, there is a high probability that they will attempt to expand beyond the shroud of the nebula and will thus find us eventually. I am told that Kashan Strategic Defence is prepared for that outcome. General?”

“Thank you Madam Proconsul. We currently have several asteriod emplacements fully operational with many fully automated ones underway. The naval base on Phoenix has been expanded to allow a LNR battery to be placed and is set to be operational in a matter of a few months…”

Corise leaned back in his chair. Phoenix was the closest of Kashan’s three moons and home to the Phoenix Naval Base, the primary training center of the Kashan Navy. Aside from the base, the only other occupants were miners that worked on the two ferrocarbon operations on the moon. It was strategically the perfect place for a LNR battery; any orbiting attack fleet would not be expecting that kind of firepower from the sparsely populated moon. Furthermore, the restricted access to the Phoenix Naval Base ensured that only active-duty military personnel actually knew about it. The Naval base itself had its own protection in the forms of starfighter squadrons, laser batteries, and shield generators that would be effective in protecting it. He shook his head as he returned back to the General’s report.

“…but all these defences are static, and I do not believe that they will survive a full-out assault from either the Dragons or the New Order at this time. Thus, they can only delay. As such, I have asked our esteemed Proconsuls to consider methods to delay the time until the planetary shield generators and the turbolaser batteries become operational,” stated the General.

Corise leaned forward. “I believe then what you’re asking for is a guarantee on time to complete them? There is no sure way to ensure that happens, except making sure that we’re not discovered.”

“That and lead an offensive,” interrupted the sole politician, “If the Dragons are on the defensive, they will have little chance to search around and discover us. As it is, the Coalition is leading a spearhead, but the latest reports indicate that they’re encountering major resistance. We might need to open a second front to keep up the pressure on the Dragons. It’s not a case of if we’ll be discovered but when will we be discovered. Thoughts?”

“Yes,” nodded the Field Marshall, “is there a reason this meeting had to take place so instanteously?”

Christina smiled. “We might be able to work with another Coalition member to target the Dragons, which is why I called the meeting was immediately; I want our forces ready immediately so that we might coordinate an attack on them.”

Corise stared at the Proconsul. Like many women, she was beautiful, and she used that to her advantage. Few people would think of her as a warmonger, but when Corise only concentrated on her words and thoughts, that what she came out to be; not the nice and charming lady he admired. He would have to be more careful in his choice, as looks were deceptive.

“With all due respect, miss, I believe that at the least the Fleet will take a month before it can fully be mobilized. I can ensure you though that we already have several Seraph cruisers ready to go at a moment’s notice.”

“Likewise, the Army has several regiments and divisions that can be ready to go in several days. But we need more time to be ready in full operational strength.”

“All starfighter squadrons are ready for maybe a mission or two, but an extended campaign like what you seem to be suggesting will require several months.”

Christina raised a hand and silenced the military officers with her amber eyes. “Do you’re best to get as many of your forces ready as possible. I don’t know the particulars of the strike, but I want us to be ready. Even if we do not participate in the strike for whatever reason, our military is going to be called upon sometime soon by the Coalition. That is all. Dismissed.”

Two weeks later...

"Captain's on the deck!"

A sharp clicking of boots filled the bridge. The Kashan marines raised their rifles and performed the universal rifle salute. After the rifles crossed and parted, Commodore Lucerne walked through the bridge foyer and onto the deck. Naval crewmen were standing at attention, whom Corise crisply saluted; everyone went back to their tasks as the old tradition was finished.

"Status of the Fleet?"

"Both fleets are fully operational and are ready to go."

"Very good Sub-lieutenant."

The Kashan Defence Fleet was often divided into two equal fleets; the first, Task Force Defender, was more commonly known as Blue Fleet. Task Force Defender was charged with protecting the Fyre Sola system and thus rarely left the Kashan's orbit.

The other fleet, Task Force Seraph, more commonly called Red Fleet, was the fleet charged with co-operating with the Coalition and waging war on enemy territory. There was also Task Force Vigiliance, which was the reserve fleet. TF Vigiliance wouldn't be in existance pretty soon as its ships were activated and transferred to the other task forces.

"Captain, we are receiving a message from Pro-consul Thorn. She'll be aboard in five minutes."

"Very good. Is everything prepared?”

“Yes sir.”

Corise breathed deeply and exhaled. He had been reluctant to have the Pro-consul aboard. Not only was Thorn a female, but a politician as well. Because of there were few females aboard the ship, she would definitely attract attention, particularly since she was well-known. That could be bad. On the other side, he found himself having to deal with a politician who had the ability to call upon the services of himself and the fleet at her whim. Corise truly hoped that the Pro-consul would be reasonable.

“Corise?”

The Kashan man spun around.

“Madam Pro-Consul,” stated the commodore, with a stiff formal bow.

The Kashan woman seemed somewhat amused. “Commodore, can we have some privacy, perhaps in your cabin?”

Corise nodded and led his counterpart to his cabin. As aboard most warships, the cabins of the Seraph were rather small compared to their ground counterparts because of space. The sole exception to this were a series of cabins assigned to the higher officers and a guest stateroom reserved for high-ranking guests. Even these though were somewhat cramped.

“This might be somewhat cramped compared to what you’re use to, Madam.”

Christina’s lip started to curl upwards. “You can dispense the formalities, Corise. We’ve been in more than a few meetings; I’m surprised I never got to know you very personally.”

Corise nodded. “I prefer to keep my job and my private life separate.”

She raised an eyebrow. “That’s a little clique, too clique for an intelligent man like yourself. What is it really? You’re not hiding much from me, I’m a politician and a girl after all.”

Corise walked over to the small refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of Cambrian wine. The sanguine coloured liquid was remarkably clear and translucent through the crystal bottle. He checked its date and began to mutter.

“I can certainly try,” he muttered to himself, before turning back to Christina. “Christina, as clique as that sounds, there is some truth in that saying.”

Christina rolled her eyes. “There’s some truth in stereotypes, that doesn’t make them all perfectly accurate about each individual scenario. What is it?”

Corise poured a glass of the wine and handed it over to the delicate woman.

“If there is anything more to what I’ve already said, I would prefer not to talk about it. Let’s get down to business first.”

Christina glanced at her wine, slightly swishing the wine by rolling the stem of the cup.

“You know our course will take us out of Kashan space. Moreover, it will be the first time Kashan ships have actually left the Fyre Sola system.”

He nodded, grabbing a glass of Fallix water from the counter. “Indeed. It is a landmark in history.”

Christina took a quick sip of the wine. “It could turn out to be a disaster if things go wrong. I am responsible to the people, and I need to know the truth about what we’re facing.”

Corise leaned back. “I’ve seen only the intelligence reports that you’ve seen, but there shouldn’t be much fighting at all if that’s what you’re getting at.”

She leaned forward in an attempt for intimacy and spoke more softly. “Fine. What is your opinion what will happen?”

Corise shrugged. “The summit is taking place a neutral spot guarded by our own Kashan fleet and the Coalition. From my sources within the mainstream Eastern province, we might be asked to help rebuild alongside the Kubindi and possibly to attack the Union, which is in the pay of the Black Dragons right now. But that’s pure speculation.”

She snorted. “Pure speculation? You seem to trusts your so-called sources fairly well.”

He took a gulp of his water before replying. “I do, because what I’ve seen from the Coalition information database seems to back up those possibilities. But we can never really know for sure. You know as well as I do that the Galaxy is a large place and the Coalition has just as many enemies as friends.”

She glanced at the wine and then back at the Commodore. “That’s an understatement.”

“Perhaps. But we are more united in spirit than those various factions that oppose us.”

They raised their glasses and toasted as Task Force Seraph entered hyperspace.

“No drink, Commodore?”

Corise, holding his glass of Fallix water, turned back from the starry viewport to face Christina. He merely pointed to the glass with his free hand She laughed.

“No, I meant alcohol. Here you have a fine stock of drinks, and you don’t even use them.”

The Kashan man sat down on the Corellian leather couch beside the young woman.

“I never drink while I’m on active duty. Could you imagine what would happen if I started commanding a battle fleet drunk?”

“That would be a sight I’d paid to see.”

“That would be a sight I’d never want to see ever,” stated the exasperated Commodore.

“Lighten up. Why do you have to take everything so seriously?”

Corise turned to Christina and made eye contact. She was in her later twenties, like himself. Still, Corise’s demeanor made him appear overly serious and mature at times, doubtless from from his military service. In contrast, Christina seemed to be younger than what she really was; her brown hair was artfully wrapped in a pair of braided ponytails that would be more fitting if she still was a college student rather than a planetary delegate to the Coalition.

“I have lives to take care of; husbands, brothers, sisters, cousins, and so forth. Do you have that burden?”

She calmly looked into his blue eyes.

“No, I have only Kashan’s entire place within the Coalition at stake, which could effect the lives of your men and yourself.”

He looked down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”

She shook her head. “I thought that the whole seriousness thing of yours was merely an act to throw me off. Kind of like a mask. I should have known better, sorry. Do you have that demonstration holo?”

He nodded, walked over to the holo-projector, and tapped a few buttons. It flared to life, showing a dark, atmospherically shaped starfighter that had blue highlights. In fact, the only reason that the blue highlights overlayed on the ship was to allow the observers to see it, otherwise it would be next to invisible to the watcher’s eyes.

“So that’s your father’s latest project.”

Corise nodded. His father had founded Kashan Defence Industries and personally oversaw most of the new projects. Occasionally, Corise had found himself helping with the projects and the designing.

“The A3 Nemesis-class Assault Bomber. It should prove to be a nasty surprise to our opposition.”

She turned from the projector back to him.

“Nemesis? That sounds Imperial and overly war-like. Perhaps a new naming convention is in order?”

Corise shook his head. “It’s warlike because Kashan’s people have grown warlike, including yourself I might add.”

She stared at him and turned back in silence as the projector started the holofeed. The starfighter surged across the starscape to the speed of an A-wing. It slightly rolled its wings in a salute as the testing started. Several sattelites appeared and were promptly dispatched by the nearly invisible laser bolts from the A3. A new objective popped up on the screen: destroy three freighters and their escorts. The ship accelerated again as the SAS kicked in, taking the assault bomber up to speeds that few starfighters could ever hope to match. As such a high speed, the freighters could never hope to escape in sublight space. The opposing escorts, several squadrons of Tie Fighters, interposed themselves between the bomber and its prey. The Nemesis, moving at 175 MGLT and all but invisible to the Ties, merely flew past the patrolling starfighters. In continued forward, directly at the freighters. But this time, one of the freighter’s crew noticed a shift in the starscape, alerting the rest of the freighters to bring their shield’s up. Still, the fighter could not be respotted.

The A3 rarely lost its element of surprise, but even then, it was a formidable opponent. The freighters started firing randomly at their unseen foe, hoping to make a lucky hit. As the sheer speed of the Kashan bomber took into nearly point blank range, the gunners sighted the target and fired. Lashing into the space, the bolts slammed into the Nemesis’ shields. But it was too late for that freighter’s crew; the assault bomber had unloaded four Kashan heavy rockets into the cargo ship; more force than the civilian craft could handle.

It exploded brilliantly; the escorting fighters rushed back to find their foe, but it eluded them until it had unloaded more rockets into the other freighters, who met the same fate as the first. The cargo ships destroyed, the Nemesis turned its attention to the opposing starfighters. It had used twelve heavy rockets on the freighters. Most of that ordinance had been carried in the Bomb bay albeit with part of a warhead launcher. The other launcher had been fitted for superiority duty, carrying twenty stealthy advanced concussion missiles. Selecting the first string of targets, the Nemesis rapidly launched the stealth missiles in succession as each one destroyed its target in a single hit. Against modern fighters, it would be more challenging, especially since they normally carried shield generators. Nonetheless, it was still impressive show of firepower.

With the Nemesis out of warheads, its pilot turned off the SAS system and rerouted the SAS power to the jammer and the laser cannons. Opposing pilots soon found that their sensors and communications were being jammed. Meanwhile, the Nemesis pilot flew his craft up to nearly point-blank range at the starfighter and fired. Several shots later, the Tie’s debris was floating in space. Feeling confident in his craft’s natural stealth abilities, the pilot turned off the sensor jammer, allowing the Kashan pilot to target his craft from range. However, the communications were still being jammed, leaving his opponents in a state of confusion. Unable to coordinate themselves, one by one the opposing starfighters were destroyed in the hit-and-fade attacks that characterized the Kashan Starfighter Arm. With the last of the targets destroyed, the Nemesis waggled its wings one more time, and the holofeed cut out. Pro-consul Thorn’s fingers covered her mouth.

“They never had a chance.”

Corise tilted his headed from side-to-side. “Look at it this way, at least this means we won’t have too many Kashan pilot casualties. War isn’t fair, and soldiers hardly fight nice.”

“Still, the freighter’s crew. Those are civilians.”

Corise raised an eyebrow. “Freighters working for opposing governments, carrying military supplies, and being escorted by military fighters realize the danger of their work. They might be civilians, but they know the risk of their jobs. In any case, I imagine that the holofeed might make a slight impression upon your fellow delegates.”

Her hazel eyes stared at him. “How can you be so cavalier about this? Men would have just lost their lives.”

Corise’ jaw set. “A soldier’s job is to protect his people, his comrade’s, his government. The best way to do that is to remove the threat.”

“People are threats?”

Corise raised his eyebrow. “Aren’t they? I would think that being involved with your involvement in politics that you would easily see that.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s not the people by themselves, but the cause that motivates them. Take out the cause, the people are not a threat.”

The Kashan commodore moved closer. “I wish that was the case; wars wouldn’t be fought if we could all simply talk and rule out causes. Unfortunately, some people are fanatical and convinced about their cause. Talking won’t work, but death can settle that.”

She paled. “Spoken like a true militarist.”

Corise sighed. “Trust me, Christina, no-one hates fighting more than a soldier because it’s the soldiers who get killed the most. I think of it as reality. Don’t get me wrong; diplomacy and talking can solve many conflicts, but not all of them.”

Pro-Consul Thorn walked out of the door to her cabin. Corise sighed in relief and immediately locked the door. Unbuttoning his collar, he made his way to the mirror above the drink counter. He looked at himself.

He saw a stranger on the edge of being middle-aged. The golden hair that framed the man’s face was a little over a centimeter long; just within military regulations. His face was slightly paler than normal from the lack of sunlight he received while aboard his ship. He cheekbones were beginning to show more, another sign of the aging process and the tough military training that all Kashan personnel endured. His sapphire blue eyes continue to scan the mirror. He saw someone forged and continually immersed in the Kashan military. He let out an exasperated sigh.

“Have I truly become what she claims I have?” questioned the Kashan man, “The Force help me.”

He walked back over to the fridge and took a brief sip of the Cambrian wine; something he very rarely did. Sitting down on his bed, the Commodore savored the wine’s exquisite taste for a few seconds. He took off his standard duty uniform, leaving only a standard white tanktop and boxers, and put the mundane attire into a compartment for his laundry. For a second, he glanced at himself in the mirror, shook his head, and offered a wan smile to himself. He paced over to his closet, easily finding his only dress uniform within the five sets of clothing stored within.

“So now, I have to look like a good fashion model and shake every single diplomat’s hand within sight,” he mused, referring to having to attend the summit as Pro-Consul Thorn’s military consort.

As satirical as the statement sounded, in his experience it had been true. In the few summits involving politicians that he had had, he merely shook the diplomats hand and was ignored for the duration of the meeting. He snorted. Why was it that politicians merely thought of their soldiers as their pets or tools to their power? On the other hand, there were politicians like Christina who was overly concerned about putting soldiers in the line of fire. Why was it that politicians never seemed capable of the moderation that was needed to let the soldiers’ do their jobs?

Corise would never understand that. What he did understand was that he would need to make a good impression for the Kashan military. He dressed himself, glancing from time to time at the garb. Like many other dress uniforms in existence, it was a more elaborate and better kept version of his standard uniform. The main difference between his normal black attire was the addition of silver piping and a set of tabs that denoted his experience and training. He glanced in the mirror; he looked decent enough. At least he hoped he did. His deliberation on his thoughts was interrupted by his comlink.

“Commodore,” stated an unseen voice, “We will be arriving at our destination in ten minutes.”

“Thank you Lieutenant. Prepare the shuttle and prep the escort fighters. That will be all. Lucerne out.”

A bright flash suffused the space surrounding navigation point Beta-5-3-7. Two silvery gray ships dropped out of hyperspace and coasted on the momentum from the jump. The Seraph and Redoubtable drifted towards Starwind Station, a white, spoke-wheeled space station that was home to the Coalition summit. Various warships of the Coalition Navy and its member states hovered over Starwind, acting as its guardian in case of an attack on the summit; an unlikely event considering its secret location.
-------------------------------------------------------
Seraph, Kashan Defence Fleet Flagship

Commodore Lucerne walked up to a silvery door and lightly rapped against the door. He fidgeted with his shirt before straightening up. He sighed.

“Madam Pro-Consul, the shuttle is awaiting departure.”

“Just a second Corise.”

The Kashan man shook his head. Whenever a female said it would be a second, it was usually a matter of minutes. He leaned against a nearby bulkhead. A minute had nearly passed when the door slid open. Corise straightened up and stood at attention. A protocol droid walked out. The Kashan commander let out an exasperated sigh.

“Madam, I don’t think the Coalition is impressed with late arrivals.”

Christina walked out of the door, wearing a white, formal dress. It was simple, yet elegant in a manner similar to his dress uniform. Together with her hair artfully put up in an elaborate bun, Corise wondered if the summit included a formal dance. She wrapped her arm around his waist and made eye contact. Corise

“Ready to go?”

“Ah, yeah,” murmured the officer, glancing sideways.

The two made their way through the various hallways to the hangar. Every so often, the couple would encounter groups of crewmen, of whom a few would give a curious glance, either from the attire of the two or the mere fact that they seemed to be "together". Several hallways and a turbolift later, they were in front of a hangar blast door. It swished open.

“We’re going to be a little late,” noted Corise, glancing at his chrono as the two strolled into the bay.

Her face turned into a wistful smile. “We’ll be fashionably late.”

She had barely turned her head away when Corise shook his head again in disbelief. How can anyone be fashionably late for a summit? I hope that pilot can drive fast. The two paced over to the gleaming white Lambda-class shuttle and boarded the ramp. No sonner had they had walked onto the ramp when it started to rise. The shuttle lifted off the hangar deck and glided over several Deathsabers. Ten seconds later, it plunged into the vastness of space. It unfolded its wings as a quartet of S9 Deathsabers formed up around the transport.

Starwind Station had been set up decades ago as a Telgorn platform to act as an Alliance supply depot. Over the years, it had changed ownership as the lightside governments had changed. With each successive government, the station had been changed and expanded upon to meet each faction’s needs, until the point where it was no longer recognizable as a Platform Type 3.

Staring out of the viewport, Corise noted that the white station actually looked better than when it was originally built. He ducked down and exited the cockpit of the Seraph’s Song. A cool breeze from the artificial life support system welcomed him into the deluxe passenger hold of the shuttle. Only the best for politicians.

A holoprojector depicting the history of Starwind Station occupied the center of the hold. While Christina Thorn idly watched the holovid, their escort of a squad of Shock Troopers busied themselves by practicing their foreign languages; all Kashan military personnel were required to know at least one other language. They all started laughing as one of the troopers accidentally mixed up the Selonian phrase for getting a bite to eat and using the refresher. Corise slightly shook his head with an amused smile. He sat down by the Proconsul.

“I hope the summit is better than this holovid,” yawned the woman.

Corise snorted. “I hope so too. I might resort to drawing on my datapad.”

Christina playfully punched him in the arm. “That would make an excellent impression about the maturity of our top military officers. Based on that, maybe they’ll think that the maturity level of our soldiers is that of three year olds.”

“Well,” shrugged the Kashan officer, “Maybe they’d learn to make the summit a tad bit more exciting.”

“You realize that we’re acting like schoolchildren?” asked the diplomat.

“Yeah; we have to compensate for the all of the unusual boredom coming up.”

A new voice reverberated throughout the passenger hold.

“We have entered the Starwind’s Hangar Bay. Prepare to disembark.”

Corise rose and helped his consort off her chair. Meanwhile, four of the Kashan troopers had taken their positions in front of the ramp. The couple walked up behind as the other four soldiers drew up the rear of the entourage. Several seconds of idle standing passed until the shuttle set down and the ramp lowered.

The vanguard of shock troopers immediately marched down the ramp in double ranks and parted; their martial tread immediately catching the attention of anyone nearby. Christina and Corise came next, lightly strolling down the ramp accompanied by the other shock troopers. The first set of soldiers brought up their arms in a salute as several Coalition dignities arrived to welcome them.

Corise leaned back and stared at the white marble ceiling of the conference room. Despite being on a space station, the architecture of the room shone with the sophisticated elegance that characterized many official and luxurious buildings of the powerful. The Kashan commodore would never feel comfortable in that atmosphere; he preferred his somewhat spartan quarters aboard the Seraph to the opulent surroundings. Turning to his left, his gaze met that of the Proconsul, who was seated next to him. She smiled and whispered at him.

“Enjoying it?”

“It’s about the same as being tossed to a rancor.”

“Lighten up. It’s not that bad.”

Corise winced. “Maybe not for you, but if I have to sit through another speech on so-and-so’s contribution to the being of the Coalition, I might grow distraught.”

She mutely shook her head and turned her attention back to the Mon Calamari speaker, who had been explicating the horrors that his world had undergone from the Reborn Emperor and now the Black Dragon Empire. He took a moment to straighten his tunic. The orator was gifted, describing the ravages in a stirring emotional way in a manner similar to many spiritual preachers. Corise had little doubt that it would further solidify some of the delegates to the cause of the Coalition. To him though, it lacked factual substance and logic to sway him any further to the Coalition. But that mattered not, as he was already committed to the faction. His comlink vibrated.

“Yes?” whispered the Kashan commodore.

“Sir, we have a distress call on the Coalition emergency channels. A diplomat’s ship is being attacked by some criminal elements on the border between the us and the New Order.”

“Blast. I’ll be there right away.”

Corise leaned in towards Christina and made eye contact.

“I’ve got to leave. I’ll meet up with you later.”
-----------------------------------------
Seraph, Kashan Flagship, Border Space between the GC and TNO

“Reverting to realspace in five, four, three, two, one.”

The Seraph flashed into realspace amidst debris and ruin. Mere milliseconds, it was joined by its sister ships. On his portside, the Redoubtable hovered up and behind his ship. In a mirror image, the Resolute hung on the starboard side in a manner similar to that of the Redoubtable. Lastly, directly astern of the Seraph and higher up than the flagship’s consorts was the Steadfast. Together, the ships formed a diamond;the most common formation of the Kashan Fleet, designed for mobility and easy maneuvering while maintaining line cohesion and presenting maximum firepower capabilities at a whim. But the Kashan commander could hardly care about the merits of the formation for the moment. He looked at the large ships in the distance.

“What are those?”

“Sir, Coalition Intelligence registers them as being TNO Curiasssier-class Heavy Cruisers. That smaller ship is an unknown class.”

Corise slumped back as the image of the ships on his personal console zoomed in. They were bulky ships, somewhat like his Seraph Cruisers. But they seemed to bristling with more weapons than the officer had thought as being possible, until now. He looked back up.

“Status of the diplomatic shuttle?”

“It’s pretty damaged. I’d say that the Imperials got a good few hits on it. Its mercenary escort seems to be completely destroyed as well.”

“And its position?”

“It’s directly between us and the Imperial fleet.”

Corise shook his head; the odds were not looking good. Looking up, he stared at the massive hulks of the enemy.

“Deploy all starfighters. Assign two squadrons to guard the shuttle until it reaches the navigation beacon. Patch us through to the shuttle's system so we can use their sensor and targetting data. Helm, prepare to plot a micro-jump to the shuttle's current position. We might have to put ourselves between them and those cruisers.”

“Aye sir.”

“Raise shields. Helm, keep us out of their firing range. I want the other starfighters to achieve space superiority.”

“What about those in the bomber configuration?”

“Get them near one of their ships. We’ll think of something for them when they get there. Get me firing solutions for the Starflares and our turbolaser batteries. All guns are cleared to fire.”

The Kashan ships released their full complement of starfighters, an impressive 144 S9 Deathsabers. With their stealth equipment engaged, the starfighters formed by squadron before advancing to meet their foe on the battlefield. In accordance with Kashan protocol, one out of three squadrons was fitted for heavy assault; that is all their hardpoints had space bombs. The other squadrons in the interception and superiority role were fitted exclusively with either concussion missiles or proton torpedoes.

As the starfighters readied themselves for the battle, the cruiser’s turbolasers began to fire, lancing dark emerald bolts towards their opponents. Corise reasoned that because the KDI turbolasers had abnormal range, it might be possible to pound the enemy without worrying about any reprisal shots due to the Imperial weapon’s shorter range. The helmsmen knew to keep the distance between the craft so that the advantage could be played to its fullest. Thus, the ships had already begun to swing to the starboard, presenting their broadside to the enemy with the intent to circle their opponent within the radius of their own batteries, but out of their opponents. The Commodore’s face tightened as the battle commenced.

“ Sir, we’ve registered eighteen hits on that shuttle’s aft shields and they are still holding. If we switch to heavy turbo lasers though I estimate the shields will collapse and it will be destroyed.”


“ And we can’t get a tractor lock until the shields are down - I am well aware, Yuri.”


“ Of course, tsovarich kapitain.”


Line Captain-Archduke Mikhail Vladmirovich Romanov pounded a large fist onto the arm of his chair. His orders were to capture the shuttle. He had considerable leniency as to how - leniency he had exercised in totally destroying its escort - but as of now he was somewhat amiss. The arrival of four vessels of unknown specification, class, or allegiance was only serving to annoy him.


“ Yuri!”


“ Sir?” asked the Sevastopol’s executive officer, turning from the bank of monitors his two-meters frame was looming over.


“ Time to until we are in those vessels’ weapons range?”


“ We do not know what weapons they have. Assuming standard armament: five minutes. They have yet to respond to querries regarding intention, either.”


“ Very well. Keep the ship at battle stations and begin training weapons on those ships. Re-classify them as enemies in the computer. Do not fire, however, until fired upon. We are outside of the border.”


A Cuirassier-class Heavy Cruiser sported a bridge much like the older Dreadnaughts some believed they resembled: single-level with navigation and helm stations sunk into the floor, the remainder in banks along the walls and in small clusters behind a short, studded command chair. Panoramic view ports modeled after a Star Destroyer’s gave the bridge crew an excellent view of what lay ahead and holographic projectors completed the picture aft. At the center of this nervous center stood the somewhat portly, bearded figure of the Archduke. He looked around at his men, themselves a rarity in the whole of the vast Imperial Navy: the entire crew of his ship was from the same world. From pilots to gunners to commanding officers, each one called the rolling steppes of Sibrisk home. It had taken some doing, but the battles fought in the previous months had proven the worth of one of the Empire’s newest inductees.


“ Sir, we are reading heat-blooms in what we assume are weapons clusters. Those ships are preparing to fire. They might be mercenaries called to help the Coalition cargo of that shuttle.”


“ A distinct possibility, Yuri. Does the Faerius[/I] have its primary weapon charged?”


“ It does, Captain.”


“ And our fighters?”


“ We have both Defender squadrons in close-in picket positions for missile-defense.”


“Push out the screen to fighter-defense in case those ships launch. I will not allow that shuttle to slip our grasp. The Faerius is to fire.”


Orders passed from man to man and through the short subspace distance to the smaller frigate-sized vessel lodged aft and between the larger twin warships. It was a short, stubby craft almost as wide as it was long looking like a child’s building block Star Destroyer, though missing the command tower eaten by an errant grishna cat. Below the wedge-shaped prow protruded a rough weapon over a fifty meters in length with a bore big enough to swallow a TIE fighter. Wires ran from the massive breech into the bowels of the ship - those that ran to the weapon buzzed with life as commands from the bridge commannded open the gates of Hell itself. A crew of over two hundred men served the titanic gun, moving a massive plasma-charge into the breech and sealing it shut. Others adjusted elevation and traverse while others monitored power levels and others still stood ready in full suppression gear to extinguish what flames always accompanied a successful firing as bits of casing near the breach decided to combust. Klaxons sounded and the entire ship’s three-hundred meter girth rocked as the Super-turbolaser took its first shot of the day. The shot moved at impressive speed between the flanking cruisers, bathing both in a brilliant orange luminescence as it passed, though the void, and then to its destructive home against the shields and hull of a trailing warship.


Battle was joined to the sound of explosions in the approaching ships and a chorus of cheers on those ships who saluted the black and red flag of His Majesty the Emperor.

The bridge lights of the Resolute briefly dimmed as power was rerouted from the ship’s lighting and artificial gravity to regenerate the shields. A few seconds later, the Kashan commander could see the lights back on and get communications back from the damaged cruiser.

“Damage report.”

A voice responded from his com-link.

“Something from that small ship hit a pair of our starfighters that had just cleared the hangar bay. After that, the shot passed through our shields and hit our armor. It seems to have burned away some of the armor away as well,” reported the tactical officer.

The Flight Controller jumped in. “Greywind 7 and 8 have completely disappeared from our sensors. They’re gone.”

Corise crossed his arms with contemplation and worry. He’s eyes narrowed as the report appeared that showed that the effects were from a STL; a dangerous weapon that had made the Coalition pay dearly in terms of ships before. But, it was energy-based, a plus for the Seraph-class. He allowed himself a slight smile before vanquishing it under the mask of a cool commander.

The Seraph Mk II-class was arguably one of the most advanced Coalition warships to date, with observers describing the ship as appearing to be a hybrid of BDE and Imperial Technology. While that was not the case, as the ship was actually made of Old Republic and native Kashan technology, for all its abilities, it seemed to make the above statement true. While many ships were armored with durasteel or Quadranium steel, the Seraph-class was unique in that it was armored with Ultrachrome, a superconductor. That, in turn, was connected to the ship’s power supply. Thus, the Seraph had the unique ability to absorb energy attacks and transfer the power from those attacks into the ship’s own power supply. Obviously, Ultrachrome by itself wasn’t proof against the heaviest weapons available, such as the STL. However, combined with the ship’s shields, it could take the hit without significant hull damage with the shield performance going down to near zero. Luckily for the cruisers, the energy absorbed from the attack was just sent back to the shield systems, making the shields slightly underpowered compared to the normal full charge.

“We might not be as lucky the next time. Reinforce the shields with energy from the weapons not currently in position to fire upon the target. All fighters are cleared for their tertiary target. Fire all Starflare missile tubes at the smallest ship.”

“Yes sir.”

Corise stood up and walked to the side viewport of the Seraph. While the vastness of sable space engulfed the ships, a steady stream of emerald bolts suffused the area; Kashan ships were already sending their long-range bolts slamming against the Imperial vessels. From the sensor output, they appeared to be mostly affecting the shields, but occasionally the bolts hit a weaker section of the shield, allowing the IX-7s ion casing to better pierce the shield and deliver energy to the hull. Still, the energy actually delivered into the hull was rather small, about the same as a heavy laser cannon bolt. He shook his head.

“Missiles away.”

Corise observed at the tubes as it was being said. He managed to see a black shape which abruptly vanquished into the gloom of space. Starflares were another Kashan innovation. A stealth missile with a modular warhead that could make a hyperjump of 1.5 light years to their target. In this case, the jump was not nearly so long. The missiles reappeared several hundred meters away from the Faerius, their target and engaged their combat jammers. Those combined with the blackened armor would create havoc among the nearby sensors.

Because the ship was unidentifiable according to both the Coalition and Kashan databases, Corise had chosen to use the standard warhead protocol with the missiles in regard to capital ships. The missiles had been fired in staggered pairs in which each pair had been given a target. To maximize the weapons’ effectiveness, the first warhead was of the ion variety, allowing it to temporary weaken (or take down) the local shield generators. The second varied from ship to ship as either the Electrite Crystal or the Proton. In any case, those warheads were explosive, and against weakened shields, that could mean serious damage. Each ship had fired half of its tubes, sending eight pairs of the missiles streaking forth at the frigate-sized vessel.

As the Kashan missile attack commenced, the horde of S9 Deathsabers soared across the black expanse. Greywind squadron had been left behind to help safeguard the Kashan ships against missile attacks while two other squadrons had moved to escort the diplomatic shuttle in an attempt to prevent its capture. That left nine squadrons of the nearly invisible starfighters to strike at their Imperial counterparts in the Tie Defenders. It would be an interesting dogfight, as the Imperial ships sported superior shields, speed, and maneuverability. However, their Kashan counterparts had two advantages that could swing the tide in the Coalition’s favor: a stealth and a 5:2 ratio in sheer numbers.

Corise silently admitted that he was interested in how that would turn out. The Kashan Starfighter Arm used their ship’s near invisibility to make hit-and-run attacks at any opponent no matter who or what it was. The only thing that gave the starfighter’s presence away was the slight shift in starscape, and more obviously, the laser bolts from its cannons. Still, most pilots preferred to fire one of their Kashan stealth warheads in the classic alpha strike before engaging in a dogfight. Moreover, Kashan pilots didn't dogfight very fairly at that, using groups to attack individual targets as howlrunners and ancient wolves attacked their prey in packs.

Corise bowed his head as Kashan’s warriors entered battle on the Coalition’s side for the first time. Another momentous occasion as yet more blood was to be shed. He could only shake his head at the thought.