Coruscant


If the man was surprised that Iceheart met him as he
disembarked, he did not show it.

"The proverbial bad credit." she murmured as she turned and
started walking causing him to quicken his pace to fall into
step with the older woman.

The man sighed quite tired despite what rest he'd gotten
aboard the captured alien Star Destroyer as he and others
investigated it's purpose. The starship was being interred
in dry dock and the Corps of Imperial Engineers (as well as
Intelligence) were not leaving any duraplate unturned.

The stench aboard the alien ship was hardly beginning to
dissipate when they (along with their powerful escorts)
entered the premier system of the Empire.

Still, despite the irritation, the man figured the jabs were
better than the Director of Imperial Intelligence killing
him.

"There's been an incident." she spat out her mind on
something else other than him. "You've got 2 days leave but
then you're back out."

The man smiled, his rather unimpressing appearance a stark
contrast within the white halls of the Imperial Citadel's
private passages. "There is always something. But if you
expect me to be at my best, I need full access to my
resources which means losing the 'Beyond Salvage' status on
my file."

Now, Isard's thoughts crumbled as she barked out a raspy
laugh at his words. Her colored eyes narrowed, "I still
haven't forgiven you for your part in Endgame. It made hash
of Labyrinthine."

"It's not like I had alot of choices." the man countered.

"You could have sacrificed yourself for the greater good of
the Agency." she quipped back emotionless.

"I did." he shot back. "Hence the Beyond Salvage order.
That sacrifice is no longer necessary."

Isard fell into silent contemplation, the smile she wore
seemingly genuine.

"You do realize that within the Empire there are 3 living
individuals who held sway over Coruscant. Emperor Hyfe,
myself and you."

"Emperor?"

"Ahh... expect an announcement making his design formal
soon." Returning to the subject at hand, "Removing your
status will take time, Intelligence being extremely
compartmentalized and all."

"Of course." the man answered agreeably. "Just like me
remembering the many secrets a leader of Corsucant happens
to know during his term also takes time."

"Your stunt on Endgame shattered Intelligence's power. Now
the new upstarts have no respect for those of us..."

"I seem to remember you saying once that we don't give a
damn about what other's believe. If they choose to
underestimate our reach, then more power for us." the man
interrupted shooting through the old woman's self pity
facade.


Isard's laugh was a harsh sounding event. "I have missed my
favorite pupil."


They came to an intersection, all four halls looking exactly
the same. They turned right the small hum of hidden
security weapons tracking their movements.


"What happened?"


"Terrorist attacks upon two Imperial worlds and four other
outside worlds."


"Political?"


"They hit the Soveriegnty, Tholatin, The Empire, and the
Vinda Corporation."


"Vinda Corporation?"


"Figure that one."


"Did they make any demands? Claim grandmother spacewarp made them do it or something?"


The Director of Intelligence handed the agent a datapad. On
it was a copy of the transmission.


Isard walked quietly on as Ciscero listened to the
transmission. The transmission of Brutus Nogoth ended and
the agent turned the device in his hand off.

"He may not be jesting but he is definitely bullshitting
us."


"Of course he is." Isard snapped in irritation. "Galactic
Liberation Front. How poetically ambiguous. Mr. Stu at INS
gave a commentary about the Mr. Nogoth's lack of details
regarding his 'righteous claim'."


"He's helping the oppressed by blowing them to kingdom
come." Ciscero commented. "So, he's just a common
troublemaker."


"With deep pockets and extensive planning, not that common." They came to the end of the hall and entered a lift. As it rose, the agent turned to the Director.


"Why aren't you handling this?"


"Terrorists are so uninspiring. I have an operation of my
own."


"Oh? What is more important than the security of the
Empire?"


"Spare me INS prattle. The Empire's security is not
threatened. Besides, if I know Kaine, he's already using
Nogoth for his own purposes. However, I am working to stop
a direct threat to us."


"Which is?"


"The destruction of The Black Hand."


"Well, there is that." Ciscero admitted as he looked at the
datapad in his hand. "Nice to get the choice assignments."


"I am still angry with you for your part in Endgame."


Hell hath no fury....


And the agent sighed as the lift opened and Ciscero realized
where they were going.


A small plaque read, "Office of the Grand Marshall"


The Agent noted that a privacy field was errected around the
office.


Another meeting that never happened...





*



"..So we ban all meetings of groups over 10 people or more."
someone suggested.


Kaine shook his head. "Hard to enforce right now. We are
working with the Imperial Census Bureau to make sure all
races are within specified population quotas."


"If the numbers are off, this is perfect opportunity to
bring them back into standard." Captain Sveli commented.


"That is the idea."


"A terrorist doesn't just waltz into our areas without some
sort of organization behind him. The fact that the six
attacks occurred simulateously.." Director Isard started.


"We've already begun to take a hardline with any corporate
entity linked to these or other organizations deemed a
threat to the Empire."


"..other organizations?" Ciscero asked as he sat off to the
side listening to Nogoth's transmission over and over.


"Just covering our bases." Kaine replied, smiling faintly.


"Of course. We might be able to use this as a way to
maneuver Arliss Industries into backing off certain
interests."


"The thought is being investigated as we speak."


Isard smiled, her eyes locking onto the Grand Marshall's,
"And yet all this is doing is allowing you take advantage of
a situation. The fact is, we can run any game we please
having INS lay the blame totally on this Nogoth character.
This terrorist fool gave us the perfect weapon. But it does
nothing to answer the danger of these people. What if they
attack another Imperial world?"



Ciscero sat straighter as Nogoth's voice spoke, "Cardia.
Honoghr, Aargua, N'Zoth, Geonosis, Eriadu."



"There is not much we can do but put our forces on a higher
threat alert, monitor spaceports, fund transactions, and the
like. Commodore Trachta is running ISB through the ringer
tightening up our protocols and actions."


"Change is coming.."



Kaine put his hands out, gesturing towards Ciscero, "But
the question is from where? He indicates that he will
strike again."



"It can't be that easy!" Ciscero shouted jumping up
startling the others in the room.


"Look here.." Ciscero got up and moved over to the
conference table the others were seated around. He entered
in the list of planets struck by the terrorists.


Carida
Honoghr
Aargua
N'Zoth
Geonosis
Eriadu


"And?" an Admiral impatiently asked while Kaine eyes went
reflective.

"Let me show you Admiral," Ciscero edited the names.


Carida
Honoghr
Aargua
N'Zoth
Geonosis
Eriadu



"I'll be damned." Captain Quinn whispered. "It's so damn
obvious."


"So we have excellent hindsight.." the Admiral continued
stubbornly.


"No, Admiral. Listen to the transmission once more."


He keyed the playback. "Change is coming.."


Did you hear that? CHANGE IS COMING. He stressed that phrase above everything else."


"We know where they will strike next." Kaine murmured.


"At least an approximation at any rate."


"How?"


How did you make Admiral? Ciscero wanted to ask.
Isard only held amusement in her eyes.


"Let me show you.."


Carida
Honoghr
Aargua
N'Zoth
Geonosis
Eriadu

I
S

C
O
M
I
N
G


"What will the 'I-S' stand for?"


"Ithor? Selonia? Sullust?"


"I'll be damned." the Admiral whispered as he looked at the
Intelligence Man with new respect.


"We have a course of action. The only logical one for us to
take. While the entire Empire remains on alert, I want
special emphasis placed on those worlds of the Empire that
fit into that little riddle."


"In fact, we've already started with Sullust. SoroSuub Corporation issued an injunction against a company called Orga Industries."


"I've never heard of it."


"It seems they are illegally storing weapons on Sullust. The employees and their families have all been arrested. Their offices have been shut down and their warehouses emptied."


"Why?"


"Trying to capitalize on the alien attack. But they neglected to apply for official registration with the Empire as an arms dealer. In fact, ISB officials indicated that their records showed their stock slated for the population."


"THEY WERE ARMING THE POPULATION?" another Admiral barked out. "They should be shot!"


"They very well may be."


"To be honest, we would not have caught it but for two reasons. First, Sullust is SoroSuub's Headquarters and hence their backyard and they DO have a contract to manufacture arms. They also have the good sense to move their operations offworld."


"Which leads us to the second reason Orga was shut down." Ciscero commented, his memories of the planet not very happy ones.


"General Sullustan outcries. You DO NOT store weapons on a actively volcanic world like Sullust!"


Ciscero shook his head at that. Such a move drew unnecessary attention and with the people being jumpy, especially in light of Colonel Messer's defense techniques against alien invaders there would be sensitivity about the security of storing volatiles in a rock room surrounded by molten lava magma on most sides.


He drew is concentration back to the issue at hand, "So.. do we tell the other governments?"


"Definitely. The more people alerted to go after these terrorists, the harder their jobs will be."


"Even the Sovereignty?" Isard asked.


Kaine grinned. "Well.. we can let their Black Hand figure it out." The others chuckled and then the Grand Marshall became serious. "This is not to leave this room but we captured the man who attacked the Academy. Isard, I will want your boy to take a crack at him."


"How did we get him?" Ciscero asked.


"He tried to steal a TIE Avenger from the Academy grounds."


"On the grounds?!" Admiral Chandler (who'd been quiet this whole time) asked surprised in spite of himself. "I wouldn't go near those damn things if my life depended on it."


"Training fighter?" Ciscero thought he understood.


"Training for the student techs."


"Techs?"


"The machine was a rebuild. It hadn't even been completed when the terrorist stole it. It didn't get far with missing parts."


Ciscero chuckled at that. "So they make mistakes."


"They did their homework to carry out their task and be inserted but terrorists are bad troubleshooters."


"Captain Merrik of the Insidion was not expecting to rescue the stranded terrorist. He was stunned and held in statis until specialists could have at him."


"So it is a male?"


"So Captain Merrik indicated."


Ciscero turned to the Director, "I should leave immediately then."

The Present
Aargau

The bridge of an ISD was a place familar to Fyor Viglianco, one where he felt at home. The imperial design, while flawed in manay areas, was often considered the upitomy of warship desgin; a measuring post to which all other vessel were compared. The ISD itself had multiple incarnations, imitations and updates, but the general premise, wether smaller, larger or simply revamped is the same. The ISD is not just a front-line warship, it is an all around vessel that can launch fighters, hold cargo, ferry prisioners and head up a ground invasion force. The imposing wedge design can strike fear into the hearts of those who dare oppose the star destroyer. However, among all of it's advantages, Fyor Viglianco enjoyed the star destroyer's upraised bridge.

Long thought to be one of the star destroyer class greatest weaknesses, because of its vunerability to attack, but Fyor looked at the benefits of the bridge rather than its fallicies; which was mainly the ability to see a wide view of the space battlefield with the unaided eye. Fyor had often been told that this advantage was not nearly worth the risk of direct attack on the ship's control center, but no matter what they said, Fyor would never let his affinity for watching the battle personally be interfered with. A vice of his perhaps, according to some, but a feature which in his mind made him a better leader, a better tactican, and a man who was more likely not only to prevail, but to save lives- those of his own men of course. Well, that was what he told people, and himself, though deep down he knew it was probably just a lie to reassure his fears. Admitting it or not, Fyor had a penchant for staring out at the wonders of space, the stars, and planets and nebulae which existed in the massive void. The idea that he was flying man made creations, whose size seemed infinite when compared to his own likness, which in turn were minute when compared to these bodies gave him an intriguing perspective. It proved his own mortality, and his true size in the grand nature of things. In his opinion, it was acknowledging that simple fact which made him the admiral, and person, who he was.

Currently in the viewport, a large bluish green sphere was the dominant sight, a planet familiar in more ways then one to Fyor. The planet seemed linked to him- perhaps because of his quest to take it for his now conquered homeland, perhaps because of his near death experience over the planet, or perhaps even the devotion the crew of his star destroyer had shown him in the face of insurmountable odds. Death creeping upon them, they had given their all for a new commander, one who they had just started to learn, and trust and become one with. As he stared at the planets oceans, and its swirling atmsphere, the memories came flooding back to him.

The Past
(Taken from Bank Balance: Zero)


They'll rue they day the interfered with the plans of the Jutraalian Empire.

"Captain- break defensive formation- we shall advance and attack. Order the commanders of the Punisher and Centurion to take a ISD each. Also, move our ship toward the Ageis Cruiser we received the transmission from. We shall crush their commanders and render them leaderless- and they will collapse like a infantry battalion facing an AT-AT! The strike cruisers and Carrack are to engage that third star destroyer off the left, with assistance from our Scmitars. Order all Interceptor pilots to engage enemy fighter, their pilots are undoubtedly inferior to the great men of the Jutraalian Empire. Have the lancer and Interdictor cover the Punisher and Centurion. And quickly commander! We must strike them hard and we must strike them now!"

The bravdo of their Admiral seemed to inspire the crew of the Imperator and they seemed to move twice as fast, issuing the orders that Fyor had dished out, while preparing for the coming conflict with almost a jump to their step- as though victory was assured. Although he admired their courage, Fyor wasn't sure he shared their enthusiasm.

His first assignment, and supposedly a simple one at that- and it was being interfered with, and most likely ruined, by of all people the Vinda Corporation. His own oversight in failing to jam transmissions had been a costly error, one which he would undoubtedly pay for in the coming conflict.

I'll make them pay for ruining me! The name Fyor Viglianco will strike fear into the heart of an VC commander for decades!

The Present

He remembered the hatred that had flown threw his veins as he realized that the Vinda Corporation fleet was about to launch itself to protect Aargau. The feeling of adrenaline and power had had gotten from think of his fleet routin the force that dared to interfere in the affairs of the Jutraalian Empire! His iron gauntlet move forward and smashing his foes in a stroke of brilliance, their feeble forces collapsing under the might of the sheer thought of engaging Lord Admiral Fyor Viglianco. He had known at that moment why so many force users embraced the dark side- even unattuned he knew the power hatred could imbue in one’s soul. Still, as he would soon find out, the might of his Star Destroyer and escorts would not match the teeth of Vinda Corporation.

His eyes broke from Aargau. He was on the bridge of the ISD II Enforcer the flagship of a large fleet that was overseeing the lockdown of Aargau. Who was behind the attacks that had forced the shutdown was currently unknown, and Fyor hadn’t been issued an intelligence report yet. He had been too consumed however, by the thought of returning to the planet where he had engaged his former employers. The Enforcer was just one of many VC ships, all dedicated to the protection of assest in the Tingel arm of space. Now, on the inside of the VC fleet, he realized whom he had been sent to subjugate, sent by the once mighty Emperor Fearsons, the current imperial puppet- his force sent into the heart of the CSA, and expected to win. Of course, had he just been facing Aargau, things might have been different. Yes, so very different. He turned back to the planet, its fascade so calm, even among the turmoil that was unfolding on its surface, the turmoil that had graced its skies not so long ago.

Thing might have been different….. he might not of nearly died…..

The Past
(Taken from Bank Balance: Zero)

All is lost.

Fyor's desperate manuever had served its purpose, knocking an enemy heavy capital out of the fray and endangering the Vinda Corp command vessel. However, no tactician, save a pure genius, could win out in such a situation. Outnumbered nearly 3 to 1 numerically and even more in firepower, Fyor was lucky to have inflicted the damage he had, and still have his fleet intact. Unfortunatly, Vinda Corp had woken up form its tactical slumber, and realizing that they had a fight on there hands, began deploying their entire force and started to overwhelm the Jutraalian forces. For Fyor and the Jutraalians, all hope was lost- victory had been a half chance and sucess a glorious but unattainable illusion.

Yet the fight goes on.

Fyor was not prepared to surrender, nor to retreat- which left him with one option- continue the sensless fight. Retreat or surrender would end his short lived career- and he would live out his days as captain of a patrol vessel near Despayre. He would not allow that to happen- an honorable death was perfered to such a course of action. It was not something Fyor wanted, but to leave his mark on the annals of history such measures would be taken- and he was prepared for the sacrifice, an idea that as he acknowledged it brought him inner peace. Death scared him not; he was immune to its fear-though why he could not fathom.

And so we fight, for our honor.

Fyor watched out the bridge viewport as the Imperator let loose a barrage of tubolaser fire toward the closest VC ship. The shots slammed against the sheilds, flashing brilliantly as they struck. He turned away from the viewport and looked at the bridge crew, saw the determination, the poorly hidden anxiety and the plastered on calm which they tried so vainly to keep in the face of great danger. Fyor gained a realization, an ephiany. He fought on, not for Jutraal, or for the glory of the far off Emperor. He faced and did not fear death not for the glory of Jutraal- no, it was for his crew, the men whom he had known so little, but loved so much. His pride and wish for honor made him fight for the Jutraalians, and he did love Jutraal, and what it stood for- but in the heat of battle he discovered it was his fellow soldiers who gave him strength. He allowed himself a smile as this realization hit him, a full smile which he knew wouldn't been seen by the concentrating bridge crew.

With his back to the bridge viewport he never saw the missles hit...

The Present

He didn’t remember what had happened after that last instant, only a flash, then nothingness. It still haunted him- the time lost- his fleet left leaderless. For many, the visage of Aargau in the ISD’s viewport may have been a glorious sight.

But for him, it merely held his mind entrapped in a swirl of time gone by…

Undisclosed Location

The Chronometer was ticking again, its mechanical percsion holding a near hypnotic attention over Brutus Nogoth, who sat watching it intently, as the many numbers turned slowly, reducing the seconds showing, bringing the total closer and closer to the absolute- zero. The chamber was perfectly still, as it had been before, only the ticking of the chronometer and the low sound of Brutus's breath entering and leaving his body disturbing the utter silence. The lightning was dimmed, but only slightly, basking the leader of the GLF in glorious rays of light, casting a dim shadow on the floor of the complex. The scene seemed quasi-religious, with an air of a ritual performed by an zealous cult. Many people who mistakenly entered the chamber would describe the setting in that way.

The door burst open, sending a pulsing wave of sound over Brutus Nogoth, shattering the serendipity which had blanketed the room. Ever so slowly, Brutus Nogoth averted his eyes from the chronometer, which ticked blissfully on, unaware of any change or difference from the seconds before.

Hilter Afdol was standing in the doorway. Brutus stood up, and stared at his advisor.

"I assume this is rather important, Hilter?"

Hilter nodded, his eyes looking around the chamber. He had seen Brutus glued to the chronometer before, and so was not surprised to find the man there. He knew the whole mantra behind it, but didn't profess to it himself.

"Yes Brutus. We have a small problem."

Brutus looked at Hilter, his look burning itself into the back of Hilter's retina.

"What has happened Hilter?"

Hilter Afdol stared right back at Brutus, his own strong will and personal control staring back down his line of sight, unaffected by Brutus's paryalizing stare.

"The Empire has shut down Orga's operations on Sullust. They have arrested the personnale and confiscated the weapons."

Brutus nodded. He was not prone to fits of rage. What was done was done- he could not go back in time and change it. However, he could always do something else to attain the same goal.

"Do we have an alternative?"

"Yes, we do. However, it's not in the Empire. We'll need more time to plan operations there."

Brutus pondered that statement for a moment. The Empire had been hardest hit in the first wave of the message- thus skipping it in the second word, the smallest- would not lessen the ultimante message. Besides, the final word would have many avilabilities to strike across the galaxy.

"Where is this alternative?"

"In the Anthos Republic. We have merit for attacking them- they recently assited the Empire in attacking Mon Calimari."

"Can it be put together on time?"

"Yes, however, it won't be on the same level as the primary attack."

Brutus frowned. The premise of the attacks was to appear uniform, as such it made them appear more coordinated and was more conceviable that they were being orchstrated by one primary force. Still, after the initial wave, anything Brutus Nogoth would be taken seriously.

"Fine. Carry it out."

He began to move as if to sit in front og the chronometer again.

"Brutus, there is one more thing."

"Yes?"

"We believe the Imperial's caught the Carida bomber."

"Why?"

"He didn't show up at the rendevous point for his extra cash. I don't think he will be any position to use what we gave him up front either."

"Does he know anything?"

"Not much, not much damaging anyway. He was a disgruntled recruit, we gave him a means to strike out. He wasn't a member."

Brutus thought for a moment then said.

"More cash for us anyway."

Hilter chuckled. Brutus made a hand gesture.

"Go put that plan in operation. I don't want to miss the time limit."

Hilter nodded, then turned and left. Brutus, after watching him leave returned to his position in front of the chronometer, and left himself sink into the silence.

Outer Rim Soveringty
Ison

The move was made, far from the room where it had been masterminded. Had a giant figure been watching both locations simultaneously, they would have noted the similarity in planetary purpose, and although quite different Ison was almost an exact replica, in theory, of the place where ther operation was planned. Such thought however, we not critical to those currently involved in the operation. Too them, the only thing important about Ison, was that it lay in the corridor named after the planet. Its strategic location had made the Outer Rim Soverignty work hard to secure it, and the other worlds in the hyperspace lane. Great bloodshed had occured, especially on Anoat, where the ORS had supressed the fanatical group known as the Liberty Sect, a Ison seperatists movement striving to set up an independent government along the Ison Corridor. Smashed at Anoat, the sect was no longer the force it once was. Still, where the way had died the will perservered, and bolstered by members of the GLF, the Liberty Sect members pressed forward with their move.

The attack plan was well coordinated- its target well chosen. Ison, home to hundreds of thousands of refugees needed huge amounts of government officals running the aide effort, as well as thousands of aide workers and other personale to run just a massive project. Of course, the high ranking officals and critical stockpiles of aide reflief were heavily guarded, and untouchable- but while engaged on a multifront war, ORS could not afford to guard everyone. The weak link, the target on Ison, was a large dormitory complex of ORS aide workers and beuracrats, located not far from the camp where the terorist cell exsisted.

The attack was executed in the late evening, about 1 hour after a huge shift change had brought 'home' hundreds of workers from the nearby camp. Six groups of terrorists approached from multiple directions, riding on transport speeders, each escorted the by the groups main heavy weapons, a pair of 008 Heavy Landspeeders bought on the black market. Armed well individually, the terrorists stormed the dormitory with a myriad of weapons, ranging from E-11s to slugthrowers, to flamethrowers, to thermal detanators, and even an E-Web and tripod. Overpowering the few soldiers spared to guard, the terrorist fanned out of the the hotel and the grounds, and requistioned a central located area to act as a command center. Three 008s were set out in the front of the hotel, to provide a permieter, while the others were pulled into various locations, in an attempt to hide or sheild a portion of their firepower. Terrorists went up and threw the halls of the dormitory, ordering all the patrons to open their doors, and remove them from their hingesor prop them open.
With all these procedures in place, a pair of terrorist hopped back outside, and onto one of the transport speeders, and made a beeline for an Outer Rim Soveringty compound.

Anthos Republic
Sathora

Unlike Ison, Sathora was quite different from the planet where the attack had been thought up. Still, there were a few similarities, though only the most astute and dedicated would discover them. The corporate haven of Zathora was more suited to be compared with Muunlist.

As the attack was a replacement, the GLF operation was put together much more quickly and on the fly; still it would be noticably enough to announce the GLF's involvment. A semi large galactic company, Lurik Enterprises, was the target. An exporter of riot gear to planetary governments, its opressive nature was inherent. The operation was simple. The objective similar to that on Ison.

A pair of GLF speeders, carrying the heavily armed terrorist pulled up to the skyscraper. They unloaded quickly, and with military percision fired at the unsuspecting security guards. Then rushing into the building they began the same prodcedures as the terrorist at Ison, securing their position etc. However, in this situation, no envoy was dispatched to the Anthos. Instead, a commerical for the company was altered, to announce the seizure of the HQ.

Undsicolsed location

The clock stood at 000.000. The man stood up, and nodded at the clock, confident the second part of the message had been announced. Someday, his prophesized change would come for real; the forebringers of it were just now beginning. Smiling contently he switched on the Holonet.

OOC- i am sorry, a bit haphazard, but I was somewhat rushed and distracted.

"Joine... how is she?"


Arien's voice over the holocom unit shook the man out of his reverie.


"Stable for now." he murmured.

Scipio looked away as something was handed to her. "Commonwealth Operations are in 'high gear' trying to work out the next round of attacks."

"Do they have an origin?"

"Something called the Galactic Liberation Front.."

Joine nodded, his eyes hardening. "It's a start."


"Joine.. the CO had not issued any tactical response... Frack! We don't even know where to respond too."

"So.."

"So, you're on your own on this one Ranger. Better start floating your credits. Those fancy ASDs we got from Vinda take holobanking to a whole new level and it seems Command wants to find these bastards so the budget is nicely padded."

"As soon as Karren is clear, I will act."

"You'll have your clearance.. but Joine? Watch yourself. We've gone up against zealots before.. the worst kind."

The blonde woman's eyes narrowed. "So, shoot first and ask questions later."


Joine only nodded, replaying the events before the destruction back in his mind.

"Five, four, three, two-"

Azguard Special Services was taking action.

Regrad was not one to sit idly by while power-crazed madmen slaughtered innocent people. Secretly, he had dispatched a team of agents to every ORS, Coalition, an Tholotian world in the hopes of catching the next operation before it started. He would even have sent agents to protect the people of Anthos and The Empire, but the agents would remain undercover for only a few days before intelligence services would snoop them out.

As the timer ran down, twelve Azguards in carefully crafted full-stealth-assault gear (You know, silenced guns, infrared scopes, concealing clothing, rope, the whole nine) descended on cords from a taller building on to the captured dormitory. There had been a small robotic sentinel unit - about the size of a thumb - hidden in the long grass that had been tracking the terrorist movements. They had done little to disguise their intentions for the building, and it was just a matter of waiting for them to strike.

The twelve figure landed softly on a glass ceiling-pane. One of them cut through the glass using the thin blades of his claws, and they slithered like shadows through the hole, blending silently into the shadows. No cameras could be afforded by the Dormitory, so there was no way they had been seen A pair of terrorists, clutching rifles and patroling the hall-way, paused for a second in the pool of light below the window.

They looked about, the shadows seemed darker then before. Unfortunately for them, one had not made it through the hole yet. They didn't even look up in time to see him land with a quiet *thump* on their backs, sinking his claws clean through their throats. The two figures gagged and died.

Dragging the bodies back into the shadows and wiping the blood away, the team split into two groups of six, moving with great stealth down each corridor. There would be no escape for the terrorists, they wouldn't even hear it coming.

"Remember" whispered the team-leader, Y-1, over a private channel in their helmets "Civilian targets are to be protected at all costs. There is to be no surrender for the terrorists."

__________________________________________________________________

Outside, as the pair of terrorists zipped away in their speeder, one began to bite his nails with anxiety.

"You don't think anyone saw us?"

The other, obviously bored, spoke slowly and relaxed. "No way, we took care of the guards, how could anyone know where we're going?"

The Azguards did. One agent had hung back to cover their retreat, but with the terrorists moving out he had to stop them before they got too far.

From roof-top to roof-top, expending all his strength to keep up with the speeder below, was agent Y-13. Like a whisp of cloud over the dark skies, he kept both black, pupiless eyes fixed on his target. A little further, and he would be upon them, they were coming up to a blocked road where a crash earlier this day had blocked up traffic. He squeezed his Ion-pistol tightly in one hand, and in the other his weather-worn Azguard Special Services badge.

A murmur on the wind, his voice was almost silent as it drifted across the sky.

"You won't get away."

Days previous

"According to the Empire, the terrorists will be following a very specific plan of action. On the overhead you can see the beginning of the outline."

The projector above, an expensive model suited for large audiences, shifted its display to show several words, the first letter of each bolded.

Carida
Honoghr
Aargau
N'Zoth
Genosis
Eriadu

"Change?" asked one of the men in the auditorium.

"Yes," replied the speaker, a balding man in his late fifties. "Change. Listen, if you will, to this audio clip."

After a brief moment of audio distortion, a voice qued up. "Change is coming.." it said, before terminating.

"Well, I'll be..."

"Exactly," completed David, the speaker. "Change is coming. According to our contact act in Imperial Intelligence, these terrorists will follow this outline. I'm sure most of you have realized that the words above me are the names of every planet attacked recently."

"Why would anyone be so blatent as to flaunt their battle plan for all to see?" asked a young man, from the back.

"Who knows? When you figure it out, tell me," quipped David. He continued, "We could debate all day on that point, but truthfully only a shrink or a Jedi is qualified to answer the question. And, since none of us are shrinks ..." David paused, and looked around. "Or, at least, no one reported being a Jedi when they volunteered..." A few people chuckled. David continued, "Our job is to defend our territory. When we combine the names of planets who are official members of the Republic, we see that we have several matches."

The projected screen shifted again.

I
Sathora

Clakor
Oogura
M
I
N
G


"Begin to brainstorm, gentlemen, we probably don't have much time."





Sathora, days previous

Security had been heightened by a factor unprecedented. No one could recall a time when so many policemen had been present at any given point on the planet.

"So the spooks think we're next, eh?"

"Apparently. Why else would I be working the weekend?"

"Aye. Say, did I tell you what my daughter figured out last night?"

"No.."

"Well, we were watching the news, and the only thing on is coverage of these attacks, right?"

"Yeah, either that or that ewok kidnapping story. Frack, I'm tired of hearing about that..."

"Yeah, well, we were watching the news, and Cindy all of a sudden blurted out, get this, "Daddy, that spells change." "

"What spells change?"

"Well, if you take the first letters ... ... ... "


Present, Sathora, Lurik Enterprises

David was outside, taking a smoking break. A few months ago he had protested to his manager about the frequent smoking breaks several of his fellow employees took, and how he, a non-smoker, couldn't take any of those breaks. Now he took smoking breaks, without any smokes.

He was on the roof today, looking out over the city below him. No one had ever accused Sathora of being a particularly pretty planet, but it wasn't particularly ugly either.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a speeder moving up to one of the many entrances at mid-level. He watched it for a moment before moving his eye to a different speeder, which flashed by, and turned the corner around the building. It struck him as odd, both speeders had been almost exact duplicates. A brilliant flash of light caused his eye to return to the original speeder, and he gaped. Men poured out of the first speeder, and even at this distance he could see that they were armed.

"What the frell..." muttered David as he continued to watch. Within a few seconds the speeder was empty, and no one was in sight. He had almost convinced himself that he must have been dreaming, when a security guard burst out of the rooftop exit door.

"GET DOWN!" screamed the man, his blaster drawn.

David gaped at the man, his eyes mesmerized by the weapon in his hands. His knees felt weak. This was it, he was dead.

"GET DOWN!" screamed the man again, running up to David, his weapon pointing at David's head. David, his eyes locked on the barrel of he gun, gave a half-stifled sob. He felt his bladder empty.

"GET YOUR ASS ON THE GROUND!" screamed the guard again, and this time David complied, collapsing on the ground and falling on his own urine.

"S..smo..o...king b..b..reak," stuttered David, from the ground. He didn't want to die. He motioned toward his employee's badge. The guard seemed to relax a bit, and pointed the blaster away from David's head. The man looked around the rooftop quickly. "Figures the company heilo is gone today."

For a few moments David stared at him. Then he began to realize what was happening. "They're going to blow the building," he blurted.

The guard, his nametag read "David", shook his head. "I'm betting a million to one it's going to be a hostage situation. If they wanted to blow the place they could have done it easier on the ground floor. No, they want hostages, which means someone will be coming up here to make sure no one gets out on the roof, or signals for help."

"Shav," muttered David. "We're screwed." He stood slowly and turned back to the roof edge "Shav," he said again. His pants were uncomfortable. All the tactics utilized by the holo-stars moved through his head, and he latched onto one. Looking about the scared desk-jocky spotted a ventilator shaft, and hobbled over. The guard was nowhere in sight now, but David didn't care. He was beginning to wimper as he slid his slightly over-weight body into the ventilator shaft. It was a virticle drop of five feet, and he huddled his body as small as it would get. Shav, his pants stunk.




Outside, David the security guard had already completed a brief survey of the rooftop. There were no methods of escape available.

"Ain't going to be a hostage," he muttered. "And dead people make the government act faster." Moments later, he ate the business end of his blaster.

Black Hand Headquarters Endor

Black Hand was a massive organization with hundreds of people regulated to even the most seemingly minor duties. One of these duties was working in the News Section of the Analysis Office of the Intentions Directorate. Analysis was in charge of interperting information recovered by operatives. The News Section was in charge of scanning the news etc. and coming up with clues etc. that may have been planted by the reporters. In analyzing the news broadcasts by the terrorists they discovered something:

Carida
Honoghr
Aargau
N'Zoth
Genosis
Eriadu

Change was just one portion of what appeared to be the war cry of these terrorists Change is Coming. They immeadiately set themselves about to discover what the other letters might represent.

The list started small and a few minor assumptions made it smaller leaving them with one match:

Ison

Immeaditly this information was sent up to the Directors Office. But by the time it got there the news was too late. There was a hostage crisis on Ison.

Immeaditly Jorai Kovel got the ball rolling. A quick call to CN-1344 alerted the ready force of Black Hand Passive Operations the most secret branch of Black Hand the name itself is a lie. For Passive Operations is not passive at all, rather it's the name of the elite special forces and counter-terrorism team that is employed by the Black Hand. Most of it's members are thought to be dead. The rest are thought to be on-location in some backward planet.

Within minutes of receiving their call a company of the soldiers were loaded onboard a Rapid-Deployment Transport and on their way to Ison. In the meantime the negotiaters from the local police attempted to open up a line of contact with the terrorists inside. Everybody on Ison waited tensely for results...

Aboard the Imperator StarDestroyer – “Avantyne”
Concord Dawn Orbit
12.543.9882

Stand always Ready. The brightly painted words adorn the halls of the CTCT, Counter-Terrorism-Coordination-Team, their motto painted in giant red letters for all to see and repeat. Just three simple words that exemplified the purpose of such a force and inspired its members with a passion unseen by most to accomplish those tasks set before them.

Located aboard the cloak-capable Imperator, the Avantyne, the CTCT is a readily mobile force able to combat and counter acts of terrorism across Anthos space. A task-force built of the most skilled and devoted members of the Republic, designed to operate off any government radars and well beyond the view of the average citizen. Many within their number would admit that the CTCT was known to function more as an autonomous extension of the Anthos peace-keeping forces, taking their cues directly from the Mandalorian Sector Authority.

This is a well assembled force of sentients and technology, outfitted to fulfill any number of tasks from the smallest incident, to an inter-planetary crisis. The Avantyne exists solely for use by the CTCT, a dedicated host-craft for the division. Her captain and crew are all maintained under the auspices of the CTCT, answering to no other master then the MSA. While many non-combat personnel make their home aboard the vessel, often vanishing from the ‘public’ eye for months on end, each sentient recruited to serve in the CTCT understands their role in a much greater whole. From science officers to tactical, engineering and maintenance to combat crew, everyone aboard the Avantyne lives for only one reason; to stand always ready.

Every inch of the Avantyne has been dedicated to singular use by the CTCT. Many of her weapons have been removed or reduced, the energy spared by her powerplant redirected to numerous scanning and detection devices, while still maintaining strong partical and deflector arrays and about a third of her original arsenal. She boats an incredibly powerful communications array and plays host to a plethora of equipment and technology that the CTCT may, at any given time, require to use.

A wide range of skill areas can be found aboard the vessel, sentients serving in numerous capacities from countless other divisions within the Republic. From combat personnel to the ships crew and her science officers, those who serve in the CTCT have been chosen simply because they are the best to be found in their field. Her crew is unlike the crew of any other ship of the line, a very diverse cross section of the Republic.

The Avantyne truly is a weapon against Terror.



*



“Explain to me again why we are still in orbit,” commanded the Captain, a tall and stern looking human of perhaps forty years. “We must be of better use elsewhere, considering the…”

“Yes, I know,” interrupted his counter-part, a dwarfish looking bith with one bionic eye and a virtual roadmap of scars across his fleshy dome. “But the fact is we do not know where yet.”

The two were seated in the Bridges ready room, just aft of the main command center, the captain sitting uneasily behind his desk, numerous flimsyplasts splayed out before him. Up until a few moments ago, the bith had been sitting just across from the human, but had recently risen to his feet with hands placed firmly on his hips.

“You have to understand, Captain, that we cannot risk jeopardizing our position without further information.” Already the bith, clad in a tight fitting military-black uniform with golden piping, had begun to pace back and forth before the desk. “I am the CTC, and you follow my orders, Captain. That should be enough…”

Rounding again on the Captain, placing his palms square on the desk, he adds, “And if that isn’t enough, then the fact that we’re still under orders should be.” Clearly the bith CTC was not in the mood for this minor discourse.

Neither was the Captain for that matter. Too long had he been forced to command this ship at the will of another, running drill after drill to keep his crew in top shape? Months of intense proximity to one another was slowly beginning to take its toll. “You may well be the Counter-Terrorism-Coordinator aboard this ship, but she is still my ship, Major Fystyng.”

Conceding the point, for now, the bith replied, “Agreed Captain. She is your ship, and you are my junior in rank. We will do as we are ordered, Captain.”

And with that, it seemed, the matter was at rest.

“More importantly,” began Major Fystyng, instilling a glimmer of hope in his younger Captain, “I want us to be ready the moment we receive our orders. Which I believe should be at any moment now.”

With the previous situation diffused both officers, with a century of experience between them could settle down to work. Each was a master in his own regard, the Captain a longtime spacer devoted to his Navy and his peers who had served with distinction and been rewarded with one of the first commands aboard the new cloak-capable Imperators. He was a hero with countless medals to his name, an insurmountable level of combat experience, and a crew that would sooner die then fails him in following out his orders.

Rather less was known about his counter-part, the bith Major Ushg Fystyng. He had come from a political background initially, soon transferring into military service. Soon after joining the Anthos Republic Military he was reassigned to Anthos intelligence. Very little is known about his service record, but within a decade, Ushg had become a Major in the Anthos Armed Forces, tasked with running and coordinating his own intelligence cells. Some years later a series of injuries would remove him from active duty and find him in an administrative position. How he had come to be assigned to this post, no one would know.

“My people are always ready,” replied the Captain in a confident tone. He would make no remarks about the CTCT personnel not directly under his command, despite his own opinions.



*



Major Fystyng would never fully understand his counterpart in Captain Frule. For all his years in the service, his contacts in the intelligence world, the old bith could not gather exactly why Frule had been given this post. And he had tried very, very hard to find out just why. He would placate himself with the knowledge that Frule was among the best in his field, rich with training and experience.

Perhaps it was their adversity to one another that made them so potent a team. Either way, Fystyng would find he busy addressing other issues.

The orders had come.



*



Elsewhere, in the darkness of space...

“Greetings Commerade Ruskov, I trust you are well?” The voice rang with a metallic tone, etched in static. It emanated from a small comm-screen, backlit by the vague outline of a human, casting dispersive shadows across the creased and scarred features of a lithe bothan male.

His ears pressed back against his head, the one before the screen, assumed as Commerade Ruskov, sits with a quiet anticipation, emotionless save for the occasional ripple of the fur upon his hackles. Clad in a form fitting blue uniform with silver piping, there exists no doubt that this Ruskov is a military officer. A Captain, First Rank, by the look of his brass.

When he speaks, it is in a low almost hissing tone. “As always, Commerade President. It is a pleasure to see you. So to speak.” Even his silvery-brown fur seems to ripple and course with his words, as if spoken by his whole body and not just his lips.

“Save the pleasantries Commerade Ruskov. You and yours are needed.” A subtle ‘blip blip’ sound resonates through Ruskovs’ small ready-room. “You are receiving your orders now, Commerade Ruskov.”

Then, as simply as that, the screen, previously set with the image of a man hidden in shadows, seated in a massive looming throne of sorts, blinks to black and shuts down. Half a second later, the screen suddenly illuminates itself, this time displaying something entirely different.

It would take some time before Commerade Ruskov would emerge from his ready-room and address his bridge-staff. Deep within himself, Ruskov could feel the pain of his orders, illustrating their plan to his chief officers who would then pass along the required information to the rest of his crew. He would know, somewhere, that was he was to do would be wrong, a horrible violation of Sentient Rights, but he would fight that feeling. Pressing his concerns deep within himself, Commerade Ruskov would step onto the bridge to the sound of “Captain on the Bridge”; and with that, begin yet another black-bag operation.

Undiscolsed Location

"It seems we've caused quite a stir."

Brutus Nogoth seemed to be in an unusually cheery mood, sitting in his utilitarian office. Its most ornate freature was his chronometer, its glowing screen slowly going up, reset to a normal timepeice.

Hilter nodded.

"Yes... when the Galactic Coalition comes out a broadcasts an important message, you know the galaxy will be listening."

Both Brutus and Hilter chuckeled. The now famous "GC declataion of war" as it was known, made any announcments by that paticular organization, suspect to ridicule. Of course, course, that was mainly becuase of the Coalition's failure to do any serious damage to the Empire. Had the Battle of Correllia fared differently, then the declaration might have become a historic document. The way things had turned out however, it wouldn't be long before "GC Declaration" toiletpaper would be developed for consumers in the Empire. Those who talked big, but failed to deliver usually recieved such treatment.

Brutus Nogoth wasn't about to join the Coalition in such ignominious defeat.

"If the GC has discovered that the underlying message, we can assume that all the major governments know it as well- but they are just chosing to keep quiet."

Brutus nodded. Hilter's comment was right on the mark, as usual. The message had been 'decyphered'. What do do about it was the question.

"Are you suggesting that we change targets?"

"It's something to consider.... but not right now. We still need to see how our current operations progress."

Brutus looked at his stategist.

"How is everything progressing?"

"Both targets were secured, and our demands have been made on the holonet..."

"I saw- but they didn't play the tape."

"Someone is obviously leaning on them. We may have to find a new outlet."

"Or we could ask them to play our future tapes."

"That's always a possibility."

Brutus knew that Hilter was already contemplating his suggestion, working out the different possibilities of convincing the holonews to show the tapes. He admired Hilter's constantly working mind.

"So, please continue."

"Of course. As I was saying before, we secured both targets fairly easily. We're awaiting the government respones- though when I last talked to our Ison teams, they said that the Soverignty was trying to establish contact with our men. We've cut long range communications to prevent anything from being traced."

Brutus knew that was critical for the saftey of the organization. He also knew the cell leaders had been well trained to handle the situation, and that they were fervent about the cause. He however, hated feeling cut off.

"So, any offical messages concearning our demands?"

"None so far."

That was as Brutus expected. Anthos could accept the demands, with the possibile exception of Kaant's resignation, pretty easily, and feel no ill effects- assuming they were not interested in offensive, opressing actions. Brutus highly doubted however, that Anthos was any better than the Empire, or Soveringty; they would want to keep such vessels to continue their naval supperority and retain an ability to opress their citizenship with futile conflict. No- they would not give in. They would continue to be an enemy.

The Soverignty was even less likley to concede anything. After the amount of deathexpent conquering Anoat, ORS would not want to relinqunish its stranglehold there- and the thought of even losing Bespin's critical tinbanna would end any chance of elections along the Ison corridor. Brutus was sure, given the oppurtunity, planets would suceed from the Soverignty (and many other governments as well) to remove themselves as pawns in the pointless galactic fray. Bespin's citizens could make themselves rich if their tinbanna wasn't seized up by a government to fuel a galactic war machine.

If Brutus had his way, one day they would have the chance.

"Alright- keep me informed. And prepare the contingency plans along with the primary; I have to think about our next targets."

Hilter nodded and left the office. Brutus flicked on the holoscreen, and turned to the coverage of the hostage situations, events of his own making....

Ison
Domritory

The Terrorists were spreading out through the complex, hording civillians into larger rooms, although leaving others in small confined spaces. Their guards had orders to open fire on the hostages if any hostile action was taken on the part of the governments- and that command would be followed zealously. Many of the terrorist were Liberty Sect members, who had a genuine hate for Soverignty civillians, especially after the brutal takeover of Anoat, and felt had no reservations shooting ORS citizens.

The terrorist command center was a converted kitchen, sitting behind a cafeteria filled with dozens of hostages and their accompanyning guards. Fragmentation mines situated in and aroudn the huge open space were rigged to go off by remote, and could ensure horrendous causilties if set off. The kitchen itself was being reinforced with refrigerator doors and other loose items, while the cell leader were setting up communication equipment in an attempt to talk to the ORS officials. They were not yet aware of the Azguard infiltration, as some confusion still remained, and they did not yet expect any report from the taken out guards...

Sathora
Lurik Enterprises

The terrorist began fanning out throughout the building, rounding up employee's and moving them to centrally located cubicle floors, where they could be guarded by fewer operatives. Several terrorist began the task of mining the entrance way to the building as well as the lobby, while other began booby trapping certain turbolifts and stairwells. A contigent was sent to the roof, while another was ordered to find Lurik's vault, experimental design lab and either find employee's who could open them, or break in forcibly.

Meanwhile a central command post was being set up in Lurik's security center, to allow the terrorist access to the buildings cameras and other useful tools. With holonet communications already in place the terrorist made attempts to contact the Anthos government, to open a line of dialouge. Things were a bit hectic, but the terrorist had been thorughly trained to do this task.

Plus, with the element of surpirse anything was possible.