Commenor

UCSS Xaphania

The map glowed brightly in the centre of the room. A room built with a singular purpose. Along one wall stood droids, manning the complex net of computers, ready to input variables and probabilities and a thousand other things as the government he served once again took to galactic expansion.

Those planets currently held by the Union of Free Worlds - the government agency that had risen in the wake of the Great War to become an intregle part of LFX Industrial - glowed a bright red. Commenor... Thyferra... Bespin... Taloraan...

The loss of a half a dozen worlds irritated Trayden's mind. The massive loss of material and manpower was deafening, uncomprehendable. And nearly irrepairable, he mused.

Never having been a religious man, Trayden Locke had not taken much notice of old tales of the Great Storm that had destroyed nearly all the galaxy save for one man that certain scriptures said had heard the voice of the gods and acted. But, even having the responsibility of the future of the Union of Free Worlds only partially in his hands at that time, he had acted.

Righteous Destiny had been planned since the outset of the Great War, since the Empire took Coruscant back from the New Republic and cemented their leadership across the stars. The release of the Wrath Virus had only escelated that leadership, for a time, as the gaalaxy looked to Imperial Centre to save them.

But in the wake of that disaster, the final blow had come to Cryonics Industries, by that time a mere branch off of the Imperial government, a tiny Corporate franchise known as Arliss Towers. Thyferra declared her neutrality, and Taloraan and Bespin followed suite. The galaxy tore itself to bits.

And as that dust cloud cleared and the galaxy say peace again, the new Polemarch of the Fleet acted. Project: Righteous Destiny reached deep into the galaxy's interior and secured Thyferra, Bespin, and Taloraan, as member-states of the Union. Thus was the future solidity of LFX Industrial assured.

But that was only one piece of the puzzle, a puzzle that would stretch further than he knew when Righteous Destiny was planned. The contingincy plans that he had put into place, the operational plans to move on a dozen worlds if they should fall, we ignored. And yet, somehow, they managed to go off despite that. Eriadu and Sluis Van signed onto the Union of Free Worlds only weeks after Operation: Righteous Destiny ended.

There was little explaining it. But, that part of space was only that, a small part. A sliver, and the most influencial space was still uncovered, left open to all. Thus, the Polemarch staring at the map. Thus, Operation: Prime Factor.

The map also showed the major trade routes, and a half a dozen other, more minor, items. Commenor, outlined with the gold that designated the capital, was evident. During the times of crisis, the artificial storm brewed by the Wrath virus, the capital had stood firmly. Despite the falling of each of the Corporation's worlds in succession, Commenor had stood firm against the enemy.

And it now registered to Trayden Locke how vulnerable the capital really was, and indeed how lucky they had been to hold out as long as they did. Staggering vulnerable, really...

Well, it was time to change that. He glanced at the map one last time and smiled.

"...Kuat..."

He whispered to the empty room, his eyes lighting up.

Kuat

Kuat was perhaps the most tossed-around name in the galaxy. Perhaps... after Coruscant - Imperial Centre - it was the most. There were few in the core regions that did not know the legend of Kuat, the producer of the Empire's mightiest battleships. Star Destroyers and Super Star Destroyers had seen their birth in the massive Kuat Drive Yards.

The KDY enterprise was massive. Nearly 50% of the Empire's massive need was handled above the dead hulk of Kuat, a sprawling maze of orbital space docks, all rigged with explosives from the days of that Empire.

The Drive Yards had seen their share of combat, to be sure. In the waning days of the Empire the rogue warlord Zsnij had attempted to steal a nearly complete Super Star Destroyer, the Razor's Kiss from the shipyards. That attack had gone successfully, save for the fact that Wraith Squadron was able to trace the Razor's Kiss, and Zsinj's own Super Star Destroyer Iron Fist, and destroy his new toy.

Then the days of the Republic, and relative peace. The wealth of KDY diminished, along with their status as the largest producers of combat starships. The orbital yards of Mon Calamari now handled the majority of the New Republic's construction.

And the return of the Empire, under Darth Exercon, Fleet Commander Zell, and later, Grand Admiral Daemon Hyfe. The Grand Admiral that was now the Regent... but along with his status came the loss of Kuat as they declared themselves neutral...

Old Imperial traditions die-hard. Such was how the fat man known only as Penny came to power in Kuat's corrupt government. According to the charter, a document that had been ignored by and large for the better part of a decade, Kuat was a democracy. The only thing the people had decided in the last ten years was they didn't feel like revolting - not with Kuat Guards, dressed in old Stormtrooper armour, placed on every street corner.

Penny had seized control of the government from the ancient man who had held it before, strangling that man in his sleep in a "bloodless" coup.

And Kuat had since closed itself off, content in its own little cocoon. Thousands had been laid off - fired - from the Drive Yards, which were brought under governmental control by the new administration as almost their first act. The mass firings had resulted in the catastrophic failing of the economy, and Kuat's current financial trouble.

But, despite those troubles, the government officials were wealthy still, and enjoyed flaunting it in the most obvious of ways. The most apparent were the dozens of state-of-the-art transports that delivered the officials to and from their homes and offices.

It was, in all reality, the best of times, and the worst of time...

Ground Facilities - Present Day

Penny, the grizzled small man who called himself the President of Kuat, stared at the man with disinterest.

"...tell me again what you have to offer..." He said, rather dourly. The first man, a tall humanoid dressed in a rather expensive-looking black sport jacket and holding a pair of black leather gloves in the hands clasped behind his back, gave the 'President' a grin of broken teeth.

"...I didn't say we had anything to... offer... did I...?" He replied, brining one hand forward and resting it on the President's head. The man angrily brushed it away.

"...if you have nothing to offer you are wasting my time... and if you are wasting my time, which you are," he added rather pointedly, "then I must ask you to leave..."

The emphasis on the word ask left no doubt in the visitor’s mind that if he did not leave, he would be forced to leave by the pushy, overconfident President.

"...and if I... refuse...?" He asked, the smile returning. "what then...?"

The President looked at him, his beady eyes boring into the black holes that should have held eyes in the other man's head.

"...then you are... made... to leave..."

The visitor nodded and turned to go, pulling the gloves over his hand.

"...I'll escort myself out, thanks..."

He reached to tap the control panel behind the President, then brought his elbow into the man's face with a sickening crunch. The blow knocked the old man to the ground, and the visitor reached into his pocket and withdrew the high powered blaster he kept there. Flicking off the safety, he waited until the man was on his feet before pointing the blaster at him and giving him another toothy smile.

"...I believe we had something of interest to talk about, Mr. Penny...?"

The Folor Moon

UCSS Reckless Abandon

"Project status?" He asked bitterly, reading the sheet of flimsi over for the third time and sighing. The fleet officer shook his head, for the third time, and sighed.

"Behind schedule. Over budget. Behind in every possible aspect..."

"This isn't good, Watt. Not good at all." The fist man set the flimsi down and shrugged.

"What am I supposed to do about it?" He demanded. "I don't have the authority or the ability to requesition additional resources... I've got to go through the usual channels..."

"Just like the rest of us." The fleet officer replied.

"Yeah. The rest of you." The first man said, reading the flimsi for the fourth time, now. "But just like the rest of you, I've found the proper channels to be long and complicated."

"So ask the Polemarch. This is a high-level assignment, not some dinky mission. We're acting directly under the Department of Enviorment..."

"The Department of Enviorment! If that were the Defence Department, of the Intelligence Department, it might mean something. But the fleet isn't going to assign us additional resources when we tell them that the Department of Enviorment needs them..."

Any furhter conversation was forestalled by the door opening. Both men looked up, and immediatly leapt to their feet and hastened to salute.

"Polemarch, sir! This is an unexpected pleasure. We were not aware that you were-" Trayden returned the salutes and motioned for the men to sit down, then cut off the officer.

"Nor was anyone else, Mr. Ricard. This is an unofficial meeting, and if anyone asks, it never took place. Are we clear on that?"

Both men nodded, and he continued.

"Three hours ago, we held a Summit of the Military Council onboard the Xaphania. We have concured that immediate action is neccessary to reinforce Commenor's position here in the core. Are you following?"

Both of the men nodded.

"Comparing our requirements with Seti Ashar's list of possible and probaby targets, we have decided that a task group should make all possible speed to Red Star - that's a code name, by the way, your real destination is still classified - and secure a position there thought diplomatic means. The Reckless Abandon will be that task force."

The fleet officer nodded his approval, but the other man jumped up, indignation clear on his face.

"Sir! I must protest! Captain Ricard is under orders from the Department of Enviorment, and the Board has given us full reign over the Reckless Abandon to complete our projects here..."

The Polemarch gave him a cold smile.

"Operation: Venus has priority, I'm afraid. The Reckless Abandon will be leaving for Red Star in thirty-six hours. You have until then to get your equipment, and your staff, off this ship."

The door opened, and the Polemarch left.

"Great. Just great. Ruined a month's worth of research, they have..."

The Captain shrugged.

"Welcome to the Home Defence Corps. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

Kuat

Docking Bay Facilities

The aging hulk of a transport set down with a loud groan that had the two officers in her belly convinced she was going to break up before she managed to settle.

"Why the Coproration can't get us decent transport is beyond me..."

One of the men complained, rubbing his back where the unpadded steel wall had rubbed against it.

"At least we're here now... and it wasn't that bad." The other responded, standing and hefting the blaster rifle across his back.

"Says you. I feel like I've been sleeping on a tight rope."

The man shrugged reached down to get his pack. They stood in silence for a moment, until finally the transport ship settled to the ground and the engines died.

The first man palmed the keypad and the landing ramp dropped to the ground, hitting the ferrocreete ground and bouncing once before the two men dared to step onto it.

The night was dark, Kuat's moon hidden by the mass of machinery that made up the orbital spacedocks of the Kuat Drive Yards in an artificial lunar eclipse.

The two figures dashed across the desserted landing pads, coming to the fence that ran the length of the facility. One of the two, pulling a long cylinadar that looked vaugly like a lightsaber from his pack, nodded. The tool - not a lightsaber but a short-bladed plasma torch - cut through the fence in a heartbeat, and the men were already racing out of the compoud as the alarm began to blare. If all went according to plan, the authorities would figure that someone had tried to get into the compound, find nothing, and shrug it off.

Hyperspace

UCSS Reckless Abandon

Captain Maxim paced the frigate's bridge restlessly, the only sound that of his footfalls as he passed and the steady hum of the vessel's hyperspace engines. The Reckless Abandon had been pulled of assignment at Commenor's Folor Moon - the former site of a New Republic starfighter training camp, only yesterday and sent to a location that the Captain still didn't know.

He had been told to expect reassignment from fleet elements stationed at their first rendevous, where their target and full mission would be revealed to them. Unfortunately, that first rendevous was still eighteen hours from Commenor, which had the officer wondering where, exactly, their target could be.

"Captain, sir. We're coming up on reversion in thrity seconds."

Maxim nodded, a smile hovering faintly on his lips.

"Begin the countdown on my mark." He paused. "Mark."

The console over the bridge viewport wiped clean to show the numbers as the navigator called them out.

"...ten..."

"...nine..."

"...eight..."

"Tactical, prepare for hyperspace revision. Weapons on standby, shields on standby."

"...six..."

"Aye, Captain."

"...five..."

"...four..."

"Helm, three quarters sublight thrust on my mark."

"Aye, aye, sir."

"...two..."

"...one..."

The clicking numbers above the viewport reached zero, and the blue vortex disappeared.

"Reversion successful, Captain." One of the ensign's sang out. "Destination reached."

"Sensors?" Maxim asked, searching the spacescape for signs of other vessels.

"The system is clear, Captain. Wait - I'm reading one hyperbouy with LFX Industrial Corporate Markings... it's broadcasting."

"Patch it through, please."

"Data stream only, Captain. Looks like our next destination. Shall I upload them?"

Maxim nodded, turning from the viewports.

"Please, ensign."

There was a pause as the man entered the codes into the computer, cross checked them, and swore under his breath.

"Something the matter, ensign?"

Maxim asked, walking across the bridge and looking over the man's shoulder.

"No. Well, yes, sir. We're going the wrong way."

"Meaning?"

"Our destination is back the way we came by about twelve hours. Kuat."

Maxim swore and looked at the name displayed on the ensign's screen.

"I'll be damned... All right, then. Helm, turn us about. Navigation, prepare for hyperspace as soon as nav is ready. Take us out."

There was a chorus of 'Yessirs', and the ship began the ponderous one-hundred-eighty degree turn and jumped to hyperspace.

Kuat

President's Compound

The self-styled President regarded the two LFX men carefully, his gaze hovering for a moment on each of their faces. He had never had any dealings directly with this... LFX Industrial, and he was not sure where to begin in terms of judging these men.

One of the Industrial men was wearing black leather gloves an all-black uniform slightly reminscent of that of the Imperial Grand Admiral's. There were no mark of rank or, indeed, any identification on the uniform. The other man wore a similar uniform, this one in a dark blue with the gold ribbon of the Home Defence Corps running from his right shoulder to his waste, and had Captain's Bars pinned to his chest.

The President led them into the main room and, ignoring the other two occupents, the men who had arrived earlier, motioned for the two newcomers to sit.

The black-clad officer looked to the two agents and said,
"Gentlemen. Thank you for your services. If you would please wait outside?"

Both men, much to the surprise of the 'President', got up, saluted the man, and left quickly.

"What is this? I thoguht-"

The gloved man turned slowly and said quietly,

"Rule number one: no questions."

The President puffed out his chest indigniantly.

"I am in charge here! I will not have some pawn from an intergalactic Corporation make rules in my house!"

The Captains stepped forward and grabbed the front of the President's shirt tightly.

"Rule number two: speak only when you're spoken to."

The quiet man said, motioning for the Captain to release the other man. The President backed away, straightening his shirt and huffing.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked hotly, taking a comlink from his belt and brining it to his mouth.

"It won't do you any good." The quiet man said. "You'll find that our agents have already cut off the communications."

The daft man flicked the device on and was immediatly met with a blast of static.

"Frell!" He shouted, dropping the device. The quiet man smiled slightly and crushed the tiny unit under his booted heel.

"What is the meaning of this?" The President asked, his voice resigned now. The quiet man smiled a cruel smile and said,
"What is going to stop LFX Industrial froms siezing this system, Mr. President?"

The man's eyes bulged, and he looked around quickly.

"We will stop you. We will fight!"

The black clad figure shook his head sadly.

"Perhaps you will... but if you choose to fight, you will loose."

There was a pause as both men regarded each other, and then the door opened and an aide entered the room.

"Sir! A cruiser has entered the system... they're broadcasting codes I don't recognize."

"The Holy Demosthesian Empire."

Both of the Kuati men looked at the dark figure, and he smiled sardonically.

"It begins, gentlemen."

Kuat

UCSS Xaphania

The dagger-shaped bow of the cruiser/carrier Xaphania punched a hole directly through the defensive screen of Kuat's meager fighter force. The outdated A9 Vigilance fighters and TIE Interceptors were quickly cut apart by the vastly superior machines, and pilots, of the Black Fleet's 21st Fighter Wing as the small attack force closed with Kuat's orbital drydock facilities.

Shuttles and other lighter vehicles, support ships for the carrier, were already streaming forward, landing across the stations and discourging sqaudrons of soldiers. The fight for Kuat's orbital supremacy, a one sided battle between the crack troops of the Holy Demosthesian Empire's First Combat Division and the ragtag defenders, was short and ended relitively bloodlessly for the attacking forces.

Within an hour of her arrival in the system, the Xaphania he accepted the surrenders of the last half a dozen scattered Kuati fighters and set about destroying those vessels in a flurry of laser fire as their pilots were marched in chains to the ship's brig.

All that was left now was the planet itself, where a team had already secured the main government complexes and was now working its way slowly outwards in an expanding sphere, encompossing now nearly all the capital city.

Kuat, Surface

"The problem is, sir, that the further our forces push outwards, the more stretched the become. We can hold a tight circle for days, weeks, even. But a perimiter the size of this one... if they get a good push, they could break through and assault us here before we could mount a response."

Trayden Locke nodded, his sharp mind analysing the situation. He was an officer of the fleet, not bred to think in the limited two dimensional enviorment that was part of a ground battle.

"How many of the Tank Droids do we have deployed, Marshall?" He asked, searching for the points on the holographic map denoting units supported by the XR-85 Imperial Tank Droids, weapons that were even more deadly and terrifying than the AT-AT walkers.

The Surface Marshall tapped a series of keys, and those locations lit up. Eight of them, in total, each with a pair of the massive droids as part of their fighting force. They were deployed along the major highways, one unit guarding each direction on the compass point and the other split in two, acting as middleman between the two other units.

A feint between the supported units and a stronger push elsewhere...

A young ensign with dirt marks on his face ran panting into the room, reaking of sweat and mud. He waved a piece of flimsi and called urgently, "Sir! We have a situation..."

There was a crash from outside as something exploded, and the holographic display went dark. At the same moments, the lights died and plunged the room into darkness. Only for a moment, however, as the emergency generators came up and the lights returned, in a muted shade of red. The display returned as well, and it showed Kuati army - paramilitary - forces surrounding the complex.

The President, still in the room Trayden realized, grinned broadly and began to laugh. One of the War Droids present aimed a blaster at his head, but the Polemarch waved the unit down.
"Just gag him," he ordered. The droid did so, wrapping a piece into a ball and shoving it into the man's mouth, then wrapping duct tape around his mouth to keep it in place.

"What is going on?" Trayden called to the Marshall, who was bent over the display and yelling into a comlink, his face showing the stress he was certainly feeling.

"We're being overrun!" He returned, not moving from his position. "Paramilitary forces, must have hidden within our perimiter... I've got troops returning from the front to support our position..."

Trayden stopped suddenly, his mind forming a plan quickly and efficently.
"Belay that!" He shouted. "Where is Xaphania now?" There was a pause, and one of the men, the Captain who had come down with him, answered.
"She's within the yard structure, sir."
"How long until she can get in position above us?" He asked. Another pause.
"Three minutes, sir!"
"Order two sqaudrons of her TIE fighters to break off and return to our position, and the rest to escort Xaphania. Further orders will be issued when they arrive."
The Captain nodded, relaying those ordes to the carrier and waiting.

The building shook with another explosion, this time much closer, and the screams of dying soldiers could be heard. The smell of smoke was becoming apparent, perhaps the fire sprinklers had been knocked out?

"Sir, TIE Defender sqaudrons Alpha and Omega are requesting orders!"
"Air support on our location, now! Order them to break off as soon as Xaphania is in position!"

He sensed realization dawning on the Captain's face, and gave him a sharp nod. The other shook his head.

"No... they're to close. It would never work..." The Polemarch simply shrugged and ordered the man to return to his work.

The next several minutes passed the same as before, with explosions beginning to get closer and closer to the central complex. Above the sound of continious bombing and laserfire, and blaring alarm klaxons, the Captain managed to convey that the Xaphania had taken up position above their location and was ready to begin operations.

"Target the area around the complex in a one-kilometre radius, beginning one kilometre from this building. Have them open fire on my mark. Also tell them to broadcast in the clear that they will stop firing when their military has completely surrenduered to us here."

He stopped a moment, his face a combination of grim determination and jubulation.

"Fire."

Kuat

Northern Front

"...repeat... hold your position at all costs..." The comlink went dead, and Thomas Verzion stared at it a minute. Then the shcokwave hit, and he was nearly pitched off his feet. The ground was shaking, and from the sky came the sound of thunder... only far louder, and continious... almost as if the gods were beating a set of gigantic war drums.

He turned slowly and looked upwards. The site was tremendous, a terrible and yet awe inspiring site. From the clouds came an endless stream of green energy, pouring from the sky like a deadly rain shower. The beams seemed to be aimed indiscrimatorily, tearing into houses and schools as well as military bases and bunkers.

Thomas knew immediatly that this had to be orbital bombardment, a thing not done commonly since the days of Emperor Palpatine. That the Xaphania was doing it now was... terrifying, and yet somehow exhilerating. Somehow right.

We are the gods now, He thought. We can bring a rain of death and fire on those who displease us.

He stood, ignoring the other soldiers, the calls, and watched as the Holy Demosthesian Empire rained death on her enemies.

President's Compound

The clouds seemed to open as the first volley of deadly green fire laced down, striking a building not far from the Presidential Compound and sending debris raining over the entire area.

The ground beneath the building shook with each violent upset of the area outside as more and more fire poured down, creating craters and rubble where buildings had stood before. As the cruiser continued to shatter the planet's surface with her mighty ensemble of lasers and missile launches, their transmission echoed on all bands.

And still the paramilitary fought on. Despite their city collapsing around them, dozens of the soldiers fought their way towards the centre of the government complex. Many were cut down by the soldiers of the Empire, their bodies creating barricades behind which other enemy soldiers would hide and snipe at their enemy.

They are brave. Trayden Locke mused, bracing as another explosion rocked the building. Stupid, yes. But brave.

Then the first surrender came. A group of three paramilitary forces rose from their hiding place, hands above their heads, and were quickly escorted to a single room that would serve as the holding cell.

As the Xaphania rained down destruction around them, elements of the Kuati defence force gave themselves up, surrendeuring to the infinite might of the Holy Demosthesian Empire.

By the time the last of the attackers were rounded up, the time the Xaphania stopped her orbital bombardment, a ring of chaos surrounded the government complex. Collapsed buildings had been turning into rubble by the repeated bombardment, charred pieces of duracreet no larger than speeders being the largest remaining piece.

The area directly beside that was better, though barely. Debris covered an area for no less than three hundred meters from the edges of the blasting zone, pieces of smashed steel and duracreet littering streets and building tops. Windows were smashed in, walls chipped and even a few buildings collapsed under the salvo of rock and metal.

Fires burned in some places, and in others sewage overflowed its pipes. The site in the Kuati capital that day was one of diaster and death.

The Holy Demosthesian Empire had come...