The repulsive progression of war throughout the galaxy as of late , irradiated the deepest recesses of space. Be it with the latest in a long list of transgressions between the Jutraalian and Demosthesian empires, or that of the Yuuzhan Vong and the Rogue Jedi, war and its effects lay strewn across the canvas of the universe with a bitter after taste of ill feeling and discontent. The wrath virus, most of all had wrought rampant attrocities to many. In particular, the Hapan consortium had been dealt a devestating blow to its infrastructure. In no time at all, the once glorius entity of wealth and extravagance had been torn down to an expanse of distrust and infighting.

Never was there more a ripe time to capitalize on the unhealthy state of an injured and ill-prepared enemy. Hapes was a virtual goldmine of oppurtunities.

....................


In his hand, K'taruuk gripped a solid ball of platinum. He played with it, twirling it around in his palms, caressing his leathery talons around the firm but roughly textured sphere of metal, as he stared on in concentration toward the main viewport.

The viewport garnered his concentration for a very good reason, for beyond the thick layer of reinforced transparisteel lay the planet Vergil, his first conquest untainted by the banner of the Demosthesians. This latest offensive would prove to be the crowning glory, not only to prove that he was solely responsible for much of the demosthesian progress in the war, but to prove to himself that he was worthy. Worthy of being a commander and worthy of leading his people. If he could not take Vergil, his life was worthless.

So, as the bell called for a call to battle stations, the Disruptors opened fire, reigning hellfire upon his future.

<hr /><font size=1>


Ancestral Carrier- Nequatath
120 Retak Fighters

Ancestral Carrier- Jeltekian
120 Retak Fighters

Ancestral Carrier-Lemeknar
120 Retak Fighters

8 Terakesh Gunships


</font>

Gallinore, Royal Navy System Headquarters.

Months had the civil war dragged on, fighting stretching across the cluster in violent fluries that left men and women grasping for air, desperately trying to cling to some semblance of normalcy as their lives were crushed around them. Every so often the forces of one warlord would be routed and a peace would emerge, commerce could continue, lives could be rebuilt. And within that month another would spring up.

He could be an experianced captain or simply a pirate trying carve himself a legacy but still the came, begining the vicious cycle again and again.

And when they come, we rise to meet them.

Commodore Kashlinkov adjusted his uniform slowly as he mulled over the days events. He had finally been placed on an active command, only to be confronted with that scenario. Born in the a few years before the rise of the Empire, the human had defected from the Jutraalian Empire on the eve of their attack on the Cluster, assuming an active intelligence role until Emperor Fearsons was ousted by the military immediately prior to the assault. And now he would meet another man who had thought it in his own interests to wage war on the Clusters legal and rightful government. Arkady carefully examined his mental crip notes as he prepared for the day.

Name Jerix Macor
Race Hapan (born outside cluster)
Age 32 Standard Years
Military training Unknown. Believed to be trained in a system wide goverments military due to a more than competant grasp of systemwide tactics on both a strategic and tactical level. Alternatively his lacklustre disciplinary skills may suggest pirate origins.
Known Encounters

Commerce raids and Piracy (see references, RPA-3425 RPA-0234 RPA-2374 ......................... RPA-1344
RPA-5603 RPA-9432)

Siege of Terephon (shut down planet with only 3 frigate class ships, forced to withdraw due to sustained battlefield damage and lack of adequate support ships)

Siege of Terephon, 2nd (almost succeded in capturing planet, but poor crewmanship resulted in flagships hangar being rendered unoperational and thus fighters could not be used which resulted in strategic withdrawl)

Battle of Kryx Platform (massive raid which resulted in massive losses of weapons and spacecraft. enemy fleet now considered class a military threat)

Minos Asteroid Belt (a naval strike on the rebels suspected base turned into a trap, attackers beaten off resulting in 2 Manticore PCs being captured)

Olanji (hit and fade on shipyards, little to no damage done)

Battle of Ryjorks Drift (commando style starfighter/infantry assault captures Royal Science Station, squadron of cloaked Avengers stolen among other valuables)

Battle of Vergil (ultilising captured tech and ships defeats a confused and misinformed former Hapan Officer {Warlord 2109} and seizes planets)

And that is exactly why this is happening. Arkady knew that such a daring assault and victory was the only reason he had been allowed to come and make peace with the Queen Mother instead of being killed like the others. Rumour had it that the Queen herself had taken a fancy to the mans audacity, although one can't believe eveything one hears.

The ceremony itself went without incident, the arguements and diplomacy having taken place a week before when the initial meetings had finally been held. Kashlinkov was surprised at his opponents younger years, and wished he could have arrived in time to have fought him, but such was life. As Vergils visiting beauocrats extoled the virtues of returning to the Consortium, the Commodore felt compelled to seek out the one who could have been his adversary.

The pretence and pomp that usually surrounded the aftermath of such a ceremony hung in the air with a dank putrid stench. He grew weary of the prefabricated facades of these Admirals and commanders who hid behind thier medals and uniforms, preaching to high heavens of thier list of killings and thier exaggerated victories. This of course only served to make them look that little bit more foolish.

As Jerix mingled through the crowd, he fidgeted with his locks of blonde hair which hung down in a traditional ponytailed-braid of his homeworld and sauntered into the throng of militaria. Most faces among the rabble were blank, displeased and uncertain. Being of military origins they thrived on the conflicts, but with this peace treaty thier careers seemed a little more obsolete. Nevertheless, thier duty to the Queen and the kingdom came first, as it was her bidding that peace be brought down to the cluster once more. In all fairness there were a few faces of a more genuine persuasion. Those who, other than he, had given thier very souls to ensure this even went ahead, so future generations of Hapans wouldn't be consumed in the filthy downward spiral of civil war.

As he gazed forward, not looking at anything in particular, something, or rather, someone caught his attention. It was Kashlinkov, his arch-nemesis of sorts, a man akin to his himself even if his allegiances lay on the other side of the fence.

Jerix tipped his orange-tinted glasses toward the end of his nose and prepared to move in for the kill and confront the Commadore when a firm grip tugged on his bicep, turning his attention in the other direction.

As he came around 180 degrees, he was greeted by the pig-esque countenance of his second, Dae Kildare. The man's retractedly flat nose stuck out at him, thier eyes locking in a questioning fashion.

"What is it?" He questioned, evidently agitated at the harsh and untimely interruption by his number two.

"I'm sorry to bother you sir, but there's someone I would like you to meet."

With his firm grip intact, Kildare led his commander away from the inevitable and back toward the Naval bores.

Coming to an abrubt stop outside a small circle of seemingly rich and well decorated officers, Kildare let out a small gentlemenly cough in order to gain the attention of a Commander who's back was turned to the diminuitive man.
The turning man's expression was equally as clueless as Jerix' until his eyes caught sight of him.

"Ahh, you must be Macor!. How thoroughly invigorating it is to meet you." Said the Commander with an almost siesmic grip on Jerix' hand.

"I've heard much about you my old boy! I must congratulate you on your victory at Maires a few months ago,"

Jerix nodded as the man continued to babble, and became seemingly mesmorized with his cigar that was dangling dangerously close to the Commander's wirey white beard. In the back of his mind, Jerix was willing the cigar to fall and set his beard alight, anything to bring an ounce of excitement to the dreary day's events.

Noticing the embaressingly bored look on Jerix' face, Kildare interjected with a timely comment about the actual proceedings at hand.

"So, Commander Zenk, where do you stand on this peace treaty?"

"The treaty?" Said the Commander, momentarily puzzled. "Oh yes the treaty. Well initally I was against the entire fiasco. Nothing but trouble I thought. I must say I have warmed to it over time."

Kildare let out a mischevously defiant cackle. "This peace wont last and you know it Commander, this is merely a ceasefire until someone cracks again, and we'll be back where we were in the first place, plugging blaster bolts up each other's asses."


An uneasy pause dropped upon the trio like a tonne weight, that continued to pile on the pressure with each passing second, until Jerix, who had been silent thus far, released a sentance.


"HA! You're such a joker Kildare. HA!." He chuckled nervously, attempting to ease the Commander who would have, if he hadnt intervened when he did, killed Kildare where he stood.

Gripping Dae on the arm, much like he had done ealier, he led his opinionated officer away, while shooting a fake smile back toward the disgruntled Commander Zenk as a clear sigh washed across Jerix' face.

As Jerix turned to make his own kind of 'strategic withdrawl' from the conversation, he was stopped dead as he almost bumped into the Commodore. Kashlinkov had approached the group with the sole intention of meeting the one who he could have fought, but had stopped as he heard the direction of the conversation to hear the real thoughts of his subordinates and enemies alike. Although the conversation itself surprised the flag officer, he couldn't help but smile as he felt the discomfort of his 'other side'.

As Arkady spoke, his voice was level and betrayed no hint of malice.

"It is a good thing, Commander Zenk, that your opinion matters not one iota to either myself, or more importantly to our beloved Ereneda.

Perhaps though, you may wish to relay your opinions to the Chume'da, for the Crown Prince is always willing to listen to his subjects."

Although his eyes did not change as he spoke, his glare forced an involuntary shudder from the Commander. The staunch monarchists eyes softened slightly as he turned his attention to the one of whom actually mattered to both the Hapan and his Monarch.

"Mr. Macor I presume. You seem to have gained yourself quite a reputation against my predecessor. In case you were wondering Rear Admiral Ma'arot has gone into an early retirement.

You ruined the career of a political flag officer and for that you have my respect. Your successes were almost too good. The women at headquarters were chaffing at the bit at the mans failure. It was only the fact that you yourself were a man that prevented a sexist purge from thining the ranks of the Royal Navy."

Kashlinkovs eyes softened slightly again, this time as he proceded to speak.

"You have made quite a name for yourself in the Rim Worlds and your nearly successful campeign in the Transitory Region caused outrage at the Royal House, but do not listen to the rumours.

No, you were far from securing success. I arrived merely in time to rubberstamp a lost admiral, although i do credit you with what you have done, there is no denying the skill in your victories.

If you don't mind me asking, where did you receive your military training?"

Like ticks on the skin of a hound, they had embedded thier hinds deep into the thick crust of Vergil. Safe and secure, the Swarm oversaw thier latest conquest, a world which would now become thier foremost point of attack, a place where they would spread like wildfire across hapan space, destroying and raping the land as they went.

As the fat orange sun sank slowly into the blood-red sky, the stars above peaked through the crimson curtain that was turning a sickly purple. The dying sun spewed it's last breath of light onto the clouds as it descened, cutting thier bellies and wiping their whispy pink contents across the sky's canvas. All was illuminated by the heat of the cities below as they burned strongly on into the night.

K'taruuk sneered gleefully, his evil contentment seeping through his often calm disguise.The common everyday chatter of the city had been drowned out by the terror-filled shriek's of a swiftly dying people. A symphony of destruction layed upon a polyphonic soundtrack of laser blasts and explosions soothed his ears like a rare piece of music. With every passing note and scream, the Composer watched on, anxiously awaiting his masterpiece's epic climax.

And there it was, like a blade piercing the chest of his foe, the Ancestral Battlecruiser, Nequatath cleaved through the organic night's sky above. The clouds parted as the dagger of the vessel ripped and teared at the flesh of clouds , causing a rippling surge of darkened red and purple flashing across the sky. Green bolts of purging energy flew from the vessel's innards, pummeling into the brittle surface, knocking out what little resistance there was with a decisive and swift blow.

Afterwards, the air stank with the stench of vapourised flesh and tissue and the soundtrack of terror had been replaced by the familiar sound of howling. After a hard fought battle, the drones had earned thier just deserts. They were now, quite literally, eating the opposition for dinner.

K'taruuk, in too much of a speculative mood to consider eating, let his eye's drift to the rear of the ledge he was standing on. Atop a massive tower, once a top government building on Vergil, K'taruuk glance shifted from the destruction ahead to the construction happening behind. Already, not even minutes from thier triumph had they begun setting up planetary defenses.

Lasers, Turbolasers, and guns of every kind were being set up along with innumerable shield generators to cover them. No doubt a drop in communications would trigger a response of some kind from the Cluster's authorities. If they came, he would be prepared for them, this tick was dug in deep.

Turning on his heels, Jerix came face to face with the most unexpected of people. His equal in the world of war, Commadore Kashlinkov.

The pair nitially startled by such an abrubt entrance, however none more than Jerix's aide, Kildare who tactically retreated behind the muscular shoulder of his commander.

"My training? Why, in the Hapan Tactical Institute on Gallinore of course. I would think that with the attention you've been paying to me, you'd know that already." Jerix's last comment cut a neat and stinging wound, not intended to maim, merely to test the metal of his opponent.

He chuckled lightly, taking a sip from his tall champagne glass, slightly masking the blatent lie about his training, which, luckily seemed to have passed unnoticed by Kashlinkov.

The pair continued to stare at each other momentarily, sussing each other's motives, waiting for a break in concentration or a slip of the tongue.

Suddenly, and without warning, a small warning blipped away from his commlink that sat atop his belt.

"I do apologise for the interruption, if you'll excuse me?" He said, motioning to his little device, as Kashlinkove reluctantly nodded in concurrence.

"Yes what is it?" He said, speaking angrily into the small handheld unit.

"Commander Macor, you have a transmission from central command awaiting you in the security booth." Came the garbled reply.

"Can't it wait, I'm in the middle of something important here."

"I'm afraid it can't sir, it's urgent. Priority one."

"Alright, I'll be there in a minute." He glanced back to the Commadore.

"I have to offer my sincerest apologies Commander, but I will have to cut this short. Duty calls.

I do hope we can rekindle this converstation another time?"

Kashlinkov nodded, not mentioning the fact that he knew Macor wasn't Hapan trained. At least not officially. Macor was right about one thing. Hapes had been paying attention to him. As such he should have known that the records of all graduates in his age bracket had been examined, and they had come up blank. Still, the open semi-snub was received by Arkady with a sort of self interest.

It indicated a laid back man, calm in control of a situation.

"I have to offer my sincerest apologies Commander, but I will have to cut this short. Duty calls.

I do hope we can rekindle this converstation another time?"

The Commodore merely nodded.

"Of course, until then Commander Macor."

He stuck out his hand, seizing Jerixs in a vice link handshake. Macor returned one of almost equal force, thereby passing Kashlinkovs first test. Allowing him to leave to return to duty, the human smiled thinly as he summoned his aide.

"Something is wrong. His reaction suggests a threat to his holdings, and his handshake, while strong, suggested to me a slight sense of uncertainty."

Arkady mused on this momentarily.

"I think he may be overextended on a gambit, perhaps it backfired. Order Avenger C&C craft to begin sweeps of all Out Rim Cluster planets. Something must be wrong."

Aboard a Nova-Class Battlecruiser

'You sure you havnt got anything on sensors?'

The officer looked over his shoulder, a bleak look on his face.

'Nothing sir, not even the slightest hull sign'

Kamon felt uneasy about the situation. He knew something was going wrong somewhere but he could'nt just rely on his gut instinct as, usually, it lead him too close to the blades of death.

'Keep checking and make sure we have full shields and keep on the lookout, I dont want to be caught off guard'

The command deck resumed its bustling activity. The situation was driving him crazy. Recently joining the Consortium and being put in command of a slightly larger Patrol Group. Though chuffed with the assignment, Kamon had no idea what he was going to come up against. Kamon's thoughts were racing around his mind, what would happen if's, when would it happen's it was driving him up the wall. Kamon walked over to the communications monitering stations along the port side of the command deck and peered over th shoulder of one of the officers.

'Anything interesting I should know about?'

'Nothing to concern the Consortium sir. It's pretty silent'

Kamon heaved a sigh of disappointment.

'Oh...well keep monitering the transmissions I dont want to miss a thing'

'Aye sir'

Kamon sat down on one of the free seats on the command deck, resting his chin on his hand.

This just does'nt feel right...

The stars sparkled like glitter reflecting off the ships which were resting in the docking bay after a hard weeks work.The charcoal marks on the ships looked like stains that couldn't be removed, it showed the tough times the ships had to go through to stay alive.

The station was lit up like a just decorated christmas tree standing out from everything else,like and olympic gold medalist standing on a podium.The mechanics were hard at work getting the ships in excellent condition, the station was hard at work getting prepared for anything that confronts them.

Inside the station continuous calls were coming in reporting on how well there mission is going. Paper work was being handed out, weapon training and command training were being taken place to get the recruits doing the real thing. The mission breifing room was as quiet as space itself with not a single sound or movement in it. Still the hologram was on from the last mission brief, continuous repeats of the pattern plan to engage the enemy and defend at the same time were being showed and explained at the same time.The Hapes battlestation was as quiet as a baby sleeping.

Clone Fett: Squad Leader 258th Combat drop Squadron


As the planet rotates around the galaxy, so does the minds of the clonetroopers. So many questions running around their head. 'Whats going to happen to me' 'How am I going to do this' These are just few of the questions but the main question is 'Am I going to die soon'
Some of the grunts dont care whats going to happen to them, all they want is to kill some rebel militiamen. That WAS an order from the Hapes government but not anymore.
A civil war has started and Clone Fett is feeling the pressure aswell as his fellow soldiers. Clone Fett is a Lieutenant in charge of 258th Combat drop Squadron. His infantry look up at Fett and they trust him as if he was one of them.
As the Civil war rages on, Hapes continues to deploy its troops against the enemy. Gradually reclaiming all the planets and the Warlord gets smaller but still a parasite nibbling away the armies of Hapes.