Aboard the Imperial Battleship Tormentor...............

Vice Admiral Kraken was just settling down for a nice afternoon nap when the call came in from Commander Josti, the man Admiral Kraken had put in charge of over-seeing the Ishori homeworld of Isht.

"Sir, the Ishori have begun a revolt!" said the Commander.

"What? How could this be possible?" asked Kraken.

"I don't know. I mean, sure, there are those who would feel some bitterness towards us occupying Isht, and killing so many Ishori in the warfleets, but until today the only protests were peaceful ones with picket lines. But today, the crowds got really large, and...." said Josti.

"There is more?" asked Kraken.

"Yes. The garrison commander dispatched a squad of troops to help quell and disperse the crowd, not that it was really growing restless, but it appears that the commanders nerves were frazzled. Then, a shot came out of nowhere and struck an Ishori dead. And from there the crowds went into a riot and uprising." said Josti.

"Very well then. Don't panic, relief is on the way. But, a few orders. Number one, is that your troops are to use nothing but stun beams on the crowds, no matter what they throw at you. Number two, leave is cancelled for all Imperial troops on the world. Likewise, evacuate all Imperial citizens to the Imperial Garrison until the uprising is over." ordered Admiral Kraken.

"But sir, stun setting is all we've been using ever since you ordered us to do so after the planetery occupation took effect." interjected Josti.

"Hmmm, then it wasn't our forces who killed the Ishori. This sounds like a set up of the kind we tried to use to split the New Republic during the crisis of the Caamas Document. Very well then, we will be arriving in orbit over Isht within a standard day. Out." said Admiral Kraken.

Turning, Kraken spoke to one of his second in commands, Commodore Braxus. "Have the entire Fleet Group One proceed to Isht. Have them prepare their full stormtrooper legions, and prep their fighters for launch. Let me know the moment we come out of hyperspace over the system." said Admiral Kraken.

With that, the Allegiance class Star Destroyer Tormentor turned about and entered hyperspace, bound for Isht.

Undisclosed Location

The holonews had not shown any indication of the GLF attacks. Except for those people involved (which upon Brutus reflection were actually quite a lot), and those in the immediate vicinity, it was unlikely the galaxy had heard of the latest wave of GLF operations. Brutus might have almost doubted their sucess, if not for the information he was currently reading. The text was a encyrpted communique contained on a data-pad- recently received via long range transmission. Brutus didn't like such means of communication, but it was a neccessary risk. The information was time sensitive and therefore unable to be carried by ship or courier. Even though the coding made him feel slightly more secure, Brutus knew that with enough time and a powerful computer any code could be broken. Another of the wonders of mathematics.

The information however, was well worth the risk. It had come via the Union, though only Brutus and the sender knew that- that name was mentoined nowhere in the transmission. The alliance with the secret organization was yeilding its first fruits. The message came from a source in 'The Exchange' a criminal and intellegence service connected to the Union with a strong reach in the mid and outer rims. The details of the message were somewhat scant, intentionally so, but given his knowlegde of the greater picture, Brutus could easily peices together what the message was conveying:

The Ishori uprising incited by the GLF was growing at a much larger pace than expected. The Ishori has seized several cache's of arms from the planet's former ground military, including a limited supply of heavy equipment, and were besieging the Imperial garrisons, who were fighting back only with stun bolts, meaning the numbers of rebels had not deterorated at all. However an Imperial response was expected, and a large movement of warships about the Mid-Rim Protectorate signaled that the Empire was preparing a response. Where the ships were massing, and when they were leaving was unknown.

That was the basic jist of the message, and it was quite an intruging development to Brutus. The ishori operation had not been projected to mass into a full scale revolt, and such unexpected results required drastic action. If the GLF supported the ishori in such a just claim, he could win support across the galaxy- especially among aliens. Such support was critical to the sucess of the GLF in current and future operations. The GLF had to act.

Brutus picked up a blank datapad and began compsing a long list of orders. He was going to immediatly opened several untracable acounts of cash reserves to pump money into the Ishori rebellion; funding for weapons, mercenaries and propaganda- as well as other non-military aid. He ordered his subordinates to make a concerted effort to publicize the plight of the ishori, as well as to attract potential anti-imperials to the planet. The Empire had many enemies, and a chance to fight against the Empire could attract some of them to Ishori. Also, if the money was right (and Brutus had money to spend) a few hired guns could probably be influenced to join the cause of righteousness.

Brutus also made plans to organize GLF supporters into assitance brigades, and attempt to get them on to Ishori. Organized and trained, the GLF had a small but growing core of para-military fighters- zealots with training, discipline and zeal. How many Brutus's lieutenants could muster and get onto Isht was unknown, but every one would count.

When he was finished, he sent the datapad out of his chambers to be dealt with. He would have a hand in some planning and organization for the uprising support, but one man cannot oversee every aspect of every operation- and the GLF was expanind to the point where other were needed to assist in acheiving Brutus's dream. Brutus, fortunatly, had those people. They increased his own power and planning exponentially.

Besides, Brutus had to watch the news, and see what else his 'allies' might send him....

The man stared numbly out at the two silent troopers, each menacingly holding a blaster. He had been sitting for the better part of two hours when someone called out to the troopers.

The voice, being in a restricted area, would soon feel a worled of hurt the man thought as one trooper expertly swung his blaster around and moved toward the origin of the voice.

From the adjacent room, the prisoner thought he heard a muffled scuffle but he couldn't be sure. It was not until he caught the other guard raising a weapon that there was more to the voice than met the eye. The guard's weapon rose quickly but apparently not quick enough as a blast from the other room shot through the doorway striking the second guard before he could fire.

A man in a black jumpsuit stepped through holding a blaster. He stepped over the body of the second and turned a look of contempt to the prisoner in the holding cell.

"You.." he whispered harshly. "Years of careful planning down the drain because of you!"

The prisoner shrunk back as the man in the black jumpsuit raised his weapon.

"Don't!" the prisoner shouted. "The alarm-", was all he managed to get out as a bolt of light struck the cell's locking mechanism causing the door to come ajar.

"I disabled the security nodes on this level. We need to hurry." the man in black said, kneeling before the second guard checking the fallen's weapon.

He lifted it, seemed to weigh it in his hand and turned a calculating eye to the newly freed prisoner.

"You have a rendezvous point, I take it?" he asked in an irritated fashion, tossing the second guard's weapon to the former prisoner.

"How do I know I can trust you?" the man asked uncertain.

The man in the black jumpsuit reached out and grabbed the other's shirt pulling the newly freed prisoner closer to him.

"Listen you rotting piece of meat! I will have wasted time and money and opportunities if I go through with this! If you don't have a rendezvous, then it means you were expendible. I could shoot you and go back to my original assignment without having to worry about your failures! Now," he started against threateningly, "do you have a rendezvous point?"

The former prisoner's eyes narrowed slightly, "Ralltiir. Do you have a ship?"

The man in the black jumpsuit contemplated this for a minute. "I will have one. You just stay in front of me, keep an lookout and, with whatever you do from this point onward, keep quiet or you'll be lying next to those troopers."

The former prisoner turned white at the sight of the first guard as they walked into the ajoining room. It wasn't that he was afraid by what he saw. He'd been forced to slit another's throat himself. He understood. But it was the speed with which "scuffle" happened and the apparent damage that had been done that unsettled him.

He had looked into the eyes of his rescuer and found they harbored the cold soul of a fellow killer.

No. Of a merciless killer.

Commenor

The skies above Commenor were quiet, peaceful. Once the apex of the Holy Demothesian Empire, the site of the mega corporation LFX, Commenor was a place of many historic events, happenings that had changed the nature of the galaxy. A soft breeze was flowing through skyscrapers, sunlight raining down on cities which had once seen similar showers of much deadlier light. The planet had been seen the glory of a theocracy, the horrors of war, and the process of renewal, into a new form. The mighty Seti Ashar had met his demise on this planet; his military might reduced to smoldering debris and ionized hunks. The Empire's greatest offensive since the recapture of Coruscant had begun here- the result of that battle solidifying its position as the preeminent power in the galaxy.

Yet despite it's bloodied past, Commenor of late had seen only calm and peace. Terraforming and reconstruction projects had transformed the charred ruins and devastation into a world full or life and prosperity. The citizens of Commenor, now loyal Imperials of the highest pedigree rested assured that safe within the borders of the Empire, behind its mighty fleets, they would remain safe. But this thought was a falsehood- an idea from antiquity. New forces were at work among the galaxy; and from their reach no one was safe....


The targets were plentiful, and the selection had been made almost at random. A few careful calculations had been made, to assure maximum effectiveness. The plan was so simple; it would be nearly impossible to stop. Lives would be lost, yes, but the message would be simple and clear cut. And the seed would be planted, and like any plant grow, deep in the hearts of the people of Commenor.

Above Commenor, the implement of destruction suddenly appeared, engines flaring from an immediate burst of speed. It was a ship, a cylindrical vessel, vaguely resembling a correllian model favorited by pirates. Its ion wake was huge, as if engines for a much larger craft had been attached, and it's speed was significant. It had popped out of hyperspace dangerously close to the planet, and was quickly among the atmosphere.

The protectors of the world attempted to react, but there was little that could be done. Fighters scrambled climbed quickly to meet the streaking ship, weapons rippling its shields, but too little effect. The ship made no attempts at defense, no maneuverings or weapons flashes- and it was quickly apparent it was funneling every ounce of power to engines and shields.

Defensive turrets blasted away, their crimson and green bolts splattering damage among the shields, punching through and slagging metal, turning bulkheads into molten liquid. Still, however the shape persevered. It went over its target, a city of towering buildings. At a tremendous speed it suddenly dove and with the force of an earthquake careened into a towering building; the home of a defense contractor to the Yaga Minor Protectorate. The shockwave was intense, and the fireball produced seem to expand outward forever. The building, hit by tremendous stress, shuddered, and with amazing suddenness toppled over.

It was as if a giant being had set up a track of dominos, and then tipped them over. Several skyscrapers smashed into each other, causing a destructive mayhem not seen since the Imperial invasion. And yet, throughout, the calm breeze blew...



Orron III

Orron III is like many large arable planets in the galaxy: nothing but a huge farm. With entire planets dedicated to producing machines of war or catering to every pleasure any species could possibly enjoy Orron III was a planet that while dull provided a resource as valuable as any in the galaxy. Without planets like Orron III, the galaxy would quite simply put: Starve.

Still, in the vastness of the galaxy, there were hundreds of world just like Orron III; all of them residing in the same degree of anonymity. At face value, Orron III was like all the rest of them: a giant field, and little more. However Orron III held one gem amongst is grain stalks, a distinguishing factor from its many twins: Orron III was the home of the old Corporate Sector Authority's Data Center. A center, which since its inclusion into Vinda Corporation via a myriad of business deals was used by Vinda to control huge amounts of data. Data on everything from monetary transactions, to the personal files of the millions who live in the VC territory. Files, more valuable than one might at first thought attribute to them....


The drone barge was like all the others, filing mindlessly down toward the golden sphere of a planet in one of its many harvest seasons. It did not deviate from its course, following its appropriate path toward to a huge loading center, where it would be packed with foodstuffs to take to any of numerous destinations across the galaxy.

With a start, the barge suddenly changed directions. Computer techs in a nearby monitoring station began searching for a malfunction in the droid's primary circuitry, but on the surface all seemed well. They began attacking the problem, but without a huge degree of urgency. One malfunctioning barge would do little to disrupt operations.
The barge lumbered across fields; it's path seemingly erratic and uncontrolled. It was too late before the technicians realized the barge was making a beeline for the data center.

Still, even with that revelation, no one expect what happened next. Inexplicably, the barge rose upward, gaining altitude. The effort to find the source of the malfunction and correct was stymied at every turn- all readings were normal, so said the computers- yet the craft continued on inexplicable path. For a few moments the techs considered disabling the barge, but all attempts to do so remotely failed. Brining in military assets might have worked; but they were none within striking distance, and the simplistic barge would require serious punishment to be knocked out of commission (the vessels were designed to survive pirate raids, and even if they lost cargo would survive to reach their destination.)

Minutes later, the barge was above the computer center, a high tech building situated in the middle of nothingness, several roads connecting it to planetary settlements, a high wall separating it from the surrounding agriculture. At the apex of the barge's rise, a large loading panel opened, and a large black object flew down toward the top of the building. Five seconds later, at a small height above the roof, it exploded, sending an invisible shockwave for miles around. The reverse polarity weapon had unleashed a harmless EMP weapon of tremendous power. Harmless to organics anyway. Computer systems, and anything electronic, however would be completely fried...



Muscave

0.0.0

The Coordinates of Coruscant, Imperial Center, the center of the galaxy. A planet wide-cityscape whose fate controls the galaxy. Often forgotten however is the fact that Coruscant is not completly alone in this primary system of the galaxy. One of its close neighbors is a gas giant with 21 moons- Muscave. In a battle for Coruscant, taking Muscave would be a primary responsibility of any competant fleet commander, unless the attackers enjoyed having a heavily fortified base within the shortest micro jump from the capital world.

The GLF wasn't planning on attacking Coruscant anytime soon; but Muscave's strategic position made it as good of a target as any. This attack was rather simple compared to a majority of the others, but was dictated so by the location and uniquness of the Imperial facilities around Muscave.

The ground team was inserted on one of the 21 natural moons in secret, being filtered in slowly over time by a variety of occuances. The moon was inhabited, but only in the loosest form fo the world- other than the Imperial defensive facilities, it was mainly a small stopover point for travelers or shippers to Imperial center. Still, it's existance was enough. The terror team had picked a target, a small bank of ground emplaced turbolasers near the settlement, installed at the reuwest of the inhabitants but poorly guarded. Defense int he Coruscant system was generally intense, but that small outpost was far from a position on Imperial center itself- or in one of the orbital stations that protected the natural moons from attack. Of course, the massive home defense fleet was also enough to make anyone feel safe.

The assualt was quick and rapid- blaster weilding terrorist stormed the turbolaser emplacment, overpowered the gunners and sparse stormtrooper defenders, and quickly had controll of 5 defensive batteries. Objective secured, the terrorist began calculions, and opened fire with a vengence on an Imperial stationary defense platform in geosyncrhonis orbit above the moon, hitting it in the spot where it from where it was least expected- from the settlement it was designed to protect.



Iridonia

The acidic, yellowish tint of Iridonia simply exuded and aura of harshness. Viewing it from space, one could sense the difficulty of living on the planet, and almost imagine the type of sentients the planet might manage to produce.

Whatever images they might conure up would not even be a shade of what actually exsisted.

The yellowish world was Iridonia, the deadly home of the Zabrak race. Harsh and unforgiving, the world had fathered some of the most deadly and feared mercenaries and warriors the galaxy had ever seen. The most famous of those was the revered Darth Maul, but since the Sith's time hundred, thousands of Zabrak warriors had dedicated their life to the death of others. Such a practice was contemptable- at least in the way in which the zabrak went about it- killing indiscriminatly, for no cuase nor regard to legality or even emotion. If the money was right, the Zabrak lust for battle could slaughter dozens on the drop of a credit chip.

That same summary was given to the men of the Imperial Star Destroyer Noir Soleil , by their newly appointed capitan. The wedge vessel was moving slowly to its position over the acid filled world, the burnign remains of several Zabrak defensive ships lying in it's wake, the largest a destroyed hulk of an Imperial Dreadnaught. When the ship reached it location, it came to a full stop, and let loose with the fury of the gods.

Exactly one hour later, a message was transmitted to the surface of the planet, and the ISD turned, pivoting in the blackness, and left the system...



New Alderaan (Jutraal)

The choice of Jutraal would only hit home with those who knew there history, the people who understood that before Chaddwick Fearsons, New Alderaan had once been a haven for the refugees of that damned world. Brutus had been advised against the choice, for numerous reasons. But he had perservered. The opression of two regimes had fallen upon a populace whom at one time had wanted only to live in peacse, and mourn the loss of a world which had given them so much. The descendents of those people still resided on Jutraal, and they too would feel the same peace if only they were allowed.

The choice for the move was a symbol of both the Empire and the Jutraalian Empire: the senate building. The building in which the "Rouge Empire" held its most critical decision making, the place where the proud Emperor Fearsons had knelt before the Grand Marshall of the Empire, and sworn fealty to the Galactic Empire, bringing the planet and the remnant of the Jutraalian Empire into union with its nemisis. The union which would bring the descendants of Alderaan under control of the Empire which had obliterated their ansectral home.

The roof across from the sentae had been slected for the operation- it was owned by an old Alderaanian family who would turn a blind eye to such matters. A terrace on the side of the building, covered with potted plants and furniture provided cover. The high angle was perfect for what take place.

The Imperial moff's arrival was filled with the usual pomp and circumstance. His recent promotion to fill the position of his predacessor as the Imperial overseer of "Governor" Fearsons was of course downplayed by Jutraalian news, but everyone knew his true authority. The man felt compelled to deliver a speech to his new guinea pigs, the leftovers of the Jutraalian senate, explainging how important the would appear, while how little power they would really have. He wouldn't come out and say that directly, but the insinuation would be there. That is, if the moff survived to give his speech.

The moff's personal stormtroopers were remarkably tall, unique considering most troopers were of a standard height. Not that it mattered- the angle of the shot was too high for it too make a difference. The weapon was a Ak-295 sniper rifle, with attached nightvision 15x optical zoom scope. The shooter was a trained marksman, of the purest Alderaanian line. The shot flew straight and true, striking the moff in the back of the head....



Gorulag

The city of Hansville had joined the Empire of its own accord, in a peacful treaty negotaied with the Empire for protection. The citizens of the city harbored little ill-will toward the Empire, and likely would have lived out the duration of their time there in complete implaccability. However, Gorulag was a critical new source of Tinbanna for the Empire, especailly after the disruption of that resource by the destruction of Cloud City and Taaloran City. The vunerability of the station to attack had been stress ed int he negotations by the Empire, and many adjustments had been made by Vice Admiral Kraken and his teams, to sure up the defenes of Hansville, and protect it with fleets and other armed forces. However, the threat of internal sabotage had not yet been remedied.

The operation had been startlingly easy. A small bribe to a miner on the station had gotten the operative into a storage facility for a few minutes, supposedly to "sap a few gallons" for his rare antique blaster collection. The fact that antique blasters didn;t use tinbanna never occured to the worker. What actuall happened was the placing of a small detonite charge int he facility, set to a short fused timer. The operative thanked the worker, and then raced to Hansbville's docking pad, where he took off, just a a huge explosion rocked the city....

...and that was his last thought before Ciscero's weapon discharged, hitting him squarely in the back.


The prisoner was dead, having given Ciscero a starting point.


There was nothing that the man could have said that would have helped Ciscero in any way. He'd dealt with terrorist entities before and knew their style.

The prisoner was merely a drone.



"Was it necessarily for you to kill my guards?" an angry voice sounded as soon as he stepped out of the building.

A cadre of stormtroopers and the Commandant of the Academy met him, the Commandant clearly not happy.

"Quite necessary, Commandant." was all the Agent said. "Hav the body prepped as per my instructions."

"You're instructions shut down the entire Medical Wing!" the Academy man cried.

"Can't be helped. I am sure Isard will appreciate the aid you are giving me.."


And the Commandant stepped aside allowing the agent to pass.


Ciscero knew he had a lot of work to do.

Rictus Sarreti sat in the receiving room of an Imperial processing office. He was on a specific planet, but that didn’t matter. It could have been any planet. All of these offices looked the same. Every. One. Sarreti must have seen the insides of dozens, if not hundreds of them, on just as many worlds over the years of his service to the Empire. They all had the same bleached and sterilized feel to them. And they all had the same non-descript, bookish, quiet secretary sitting at the reception desk.

You think about such things when you have nothing else to do for two and a half hours. Like a good soldier, Sarreti had been sitting rigidly and silently in his chair, waiting to be received. Finally he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Well, I already figured I’m here for a transfer. Just not sure where or to what service yet.”

He was speaking to no one in particular, but the only other person in the room was the mousy secretary, who had not ceased to type on her console since Sarreti had arrived that morning. Rictus might as well have been alone, he got no response from her.

“I put in for the Stormtroopers, is that it?”
No response.

“Back to the Army then. Mechs?”
No response

“I guess the Navy won’t be too bad.”
No response.

“You know...you’re kinda cute when you are being all mysterious.”
She actually stopped in mid keystroke and glanced up at him. Then immediately back down to her typing again.

Sarreti sighed and resigned himself to spending the entire day sitting in that office.

“Lieutenant Rictus Sarreti!”
A voice bellowed from the office adjacent to the receiving room.

Sarreti stood, a little puzzled as to why he was being bellowed for when the secretary had an intercom right there on her desk. He walked into the office of one Major Gren.

Sarreti saluted and snapped to attention when he stepped fully inside the office.
“Lieutenant Sarreti, sir!”

The major returned the salute. “Sit down, Lieutenant. You’ve been drafted.”

“Does that mean I lose my enlistment bonus, sir?”
The major ignored his comment and continued. “You’ve got an impressive record here. Citations, medals, numerous campaigns...hmm, your entire family serves the Imperial military in some shape or form. Although” the major looked up, “it also says your ‘humor’ has gotten you in trouble before.” He looked at the file again. “That’s moot anyway. I know you’ve heard about the recent terrorist attacks.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, those bastards seem to get a big one by picking on the Empire. We’ve been the hardest hit out of anyone. That pisses us off. A lot. The Empire wants them eradicated.
As I said Sarreti, you’ve been drafted. You are now a part of the Empire’s Anti-Terror Task Force.”

“I’ve never heard of them before, sir.”

“Of course you haven’t, they didn’t exist till five seconds ago. You will be given top level clearance and more a less a free hand in your investigation. Any resource is at your disposal. Your job isn‘t to stop future attacks, prevention is not your concern, your job is to find this group and eliminate them.”

Major Gren stood. “You swore an oath to vanquish the enemies of the Empire, now get out there and kill those bastards. Dismissed.”

Sarreti leapt to his feet, the snap of heels and arm was simultaneous. “Sir!”

As he was leaving the processing office and passing the reception desk, the secretary cleared her throat. Sarreti looked over at her. She nodded a slip of paper on a desk. There appeared to be a comm channel frequency and a name, Lana, written on it.

Sarreti looked at the paper, looked behind him to make sure the major’s door was shut. Looked at her, then at the paper one more time. He grabbed the slip, stuffed it in his pocket and left to go vanquish terrorists.

Undisclosed Location

"So it's finished."

"Yes Brutus. We should be hearing the reports any minute now."

"Good. The last wave of this operation is now complete. I would like to commend you on your sucesses."

Hilter Afdol nodded in approval. Brutus Nogoth knew that Hilter's planning and coordination had allowed an unprescedented sucess rate for the GLF, a fact that the Chairman had noted with some regard. Hilter had earned the GLF's pay.

"It won't get any easier, you know that Brutus."

"I know."

Governments would begin to respond; already reports were filtering in through various sources that counterrorism was becoming a much larger field among the galaxies' intelligence agencies. Such a response was directly correlated to the GLF's rash of attacks, which had stoked the fears and hard feelings that the many opressed people's of the galaxy shared. Groups like the Liberty Sect, homegrown resitance groups or terrorist organizations had been recruited to work in areas they were already established- supported by GLF funding, material and expertise. The GLF, itself supported clandestinly by the Union, had an undetectable pot of resources that was greater than an terrorist group ever assembled in the galaxy.

Like a snowball rolling down a hill, the GLF was building momentuem that would be unable to be arrested by anyone.

Governments like the Empire, and to an even greater extent organizations like "The New Galactic Coalition" were not adequetly prepared to deal with the threats the GLF posed. In the Empire, the ability and the threat of a massive military retaliation allwed a galactic dominance like none before seen in the galaxy. Yet, the GLF's spiderweb of bases across the galaxy made it nearly impossible to run a campaign to simply brow beat the terrorists into submission.

The Empire was more effective a handling terrorist actions, because of its autocratic state, and skilled intellegence organizations- as compared with democracies whose porus borders and less effective security organizations made them more accessible- the priamry reason the Empire was hardest hit was it's sheer size. Even the Imperial Intell couldn't protect every last planet in its galatic spanning charge.

"Are the other plans moving along smoothly."

Hilter had been very busy with the first phase of Upheaval that he was not up to date on the remaining bits of the strategic plan.

"As well as can be expected. Your trip to Pavo Prime helped considerably."

The cooperation of other facets of the Union were critical to the sucess of the operations. The GLF was the millitant arm of the Union, drawing attention and shielding the other quiter groups, whose special resources and skills were neccessary for the GLF's success. Of course, dealings with the legitiment areas of the Union had to be done very discreetly.

Hilter nodded. His talk with Rico Belgardi had been sufficent to begin accquring a crucial piece required for the next phases of the operations. The holo-sreen behind Brutus suddenly became alive with action. Noting this change, Hilter gestured toward the screen.

"Seems we've made the news."

Brutus turned and unmuted the screen.



"... and so it seem that these events are the latest round of attacks from the Galactic Liberation Front, an although no one has of yet claimed responsibility, our analysts tell me that there is a 75 percent chance that Brutus Nogoth's organization is responsible. Once again , our top story this afternoon, four major terrorist actions have occured on the planets Firrerre, Anoat, Sluis Van and Tammar. All cuse, including the locations point to the Galactic Liberation Front, especially since the worlds first letters fit into the word Fast..."

Brutus looked at Hilter. With a smile he said,

"If the news is even picking up on it, then I think people have figured out the messages."

Returning his focus to the screen, Brutus's eyes saw an news reporter, with a small inset proclaiming she was broadcasting live from Firrerre.

"The scene here today was simple abhorent, as a squad of 16 Coalition soldiers were gunned down in a vicious firefight while patroling a toxic cleanup site where Coalition engineers were working to repair a peice of Firrerre's decimated envirnoment."

The camera swung to reveal dead coalition soldiers, and a raging fire on a small structure in the backround.

"The attack began with several explosions, which Colaition officals have claimed were caused by shoulder fired missiles, though that report is uncomfirmed. The structure you see behind me is a testing lab, where data and samples of the Imperial bio-weapon which turned Firrerre into a wastland were being stored and manipulated. Two confirmed explosions set that structure ablaze."

The camera came back to the woman.

"The Coaliton security team responded promptly, and the resulting firefight between the terrorists and security personal has bloodied both sides. Military officals have claimed 7 kills, and 16 causilties, though they may be underreporting both numbers. The real concern here on Firrerre is how much of a setback the loss of this paticular lab will cause, as well as an reprcussions or unknown releases of the samples into the environment."

The camera retruned to the studio.

"Thank you, now we'll send you live to Anoat, for a report from our own Harold Higy. harold."

The camera faded to a somewhat stocky man with a determined, weathered looking face.

"It seems the tragedies of recent times continue to plauge Anoat. On a planet whose strategic location makes it an oft crossroads for passing armies, Anoat has been under 5 different foriegn rules in the past decades, controlled by the Old Republic, the Empire, the New Republic, the Outer Rim Soveingty, and finally in the recent transition, has come under control of the New Galactic Coalition. This trend of outsiders controlling the planet was only broken once, after the Wraith virus, when the extraordinarily popular Liberty Sect gained control of the planet's government and pushed for a free and independent Ison corridor. The sect was later overwhelmed in a horrific war with the ORS- a war whose scars can still be seen across the planet.

The Liberty Sect however has not dissapeared. They are known to have been involved in the hostage crisis on Ison, and have been holding massive demonstrations on Anoat for self rule since the collapse of the ORS into the Coaliton. Today however, there were protests of a more violent sort."

The Camera shifted to taped footage of a huge crowd of sign holding humans screaming, around a large ornate, but battered buidling- Anoat's capitol building.

"A massive explosion rocked the edge of a former ORS security base, on the outside of Anoat's capital city, punching a hole in the 15 foot high retaining wall which surrounded the structure. Protestors nearby rushed the complex, attacking the small force of former ORS soldiers garrisioning it. It has been reported several known GLF terrorist were seen leading the protestors into the base."

The camera showed a shot of a human holding up a sign inscribed Liberty and Liberation a reference to the GLF and Liberty Sect's cooperation. He was standing over the crumpled body of a dead ORS soldier.

"Causilties are unknown, and coalition offical have not yet released a statement."

Returning to the head anchorwoman, she announced a quick commercial break. Brutus took the time to congratulate Hilter on the images- although the damage done was not paticularly heavy, the images were quite awe inspiring.

The commercials ended quickly, returning the screen to the news.

"Now we'll send you to our Imperial affiliate, to get the report on the news of an attack on Sluis Van."

The INS affilate appeared, his black Imperial suit contrasting on slightly with the grey backround. He was not on location.

"The Imperial Securtiy forces of Sluis Van reported an incident involving an explosion and subsequent confrontation with anti-Imperial dissidents on the planet of Sluis Van. The Imperial govenror would like to let all citizens of the Empire knwo that the situation is under control, and that those responsible will be brought to Justice- we have no word of any Imperial casualties."

The INS reporter cut the feed. Brutus appeared miffed. If the Empire was going to try and use its authority to censor what had happened, he might be forced to have his ow operatives return with better footage, and explain to the galaxy himself what had happened.

"And finally, we send you to Gri Fal, on the Tammar."

The reporter on Tammar was a native, due to the unique nature of that planet's envirnoment. He however, was in some large containment suit, and spoke through a translator droid.

"Thongs on Tammar have become extremly out of place, as the worst possible thing happened this morning. A large Coalition marked transport with hundreds of thousands of gallons of water exploded in low orbit over our world, raining down upon a major population center this horrific substance. Why such a transport was over Tammar is a question many Tammarians are asking themselves. Such a move has shaken our faith in the Coalition government.

Hundreds of Tammarians are currently being treated for shock, while the remained of the city hasd been issued these containment suits to protect them from adverse effects of the water. That is all."

The news program flitte back to the news anchor, ho was seated with some former general, trying to determine why those tagets had been chosen. Knowing already why the targets had been chosen, because he had helped choose them, Brutus turned off the screen. He dismissed Hilter, then sat back in his chair... reflecting on how far things had come.

"They won't talk, sir." said the interrogator. "I've tried everything. The more we try to convince them, the crazier they get."

The commander nodded. He was on the Wrath of the Gods, the only remaining Viscount class in the fleet. It was here the CIB was trying to pry the facts from the terrorists taken prisoner on Garqi. But he had some news for the interrogator.

"Don't worry" he said "They're sending in one of their best. If he can't break these men, no one can."

There came a bing at the door. As it opened, a tall Azguard stepped in. The commander nodded to him "Go on, they're waiting."

He nodded, and stepped into the room.

Inside was one man, the one the interrogators had confirmed as the youngest of the group. The Azguard stood at the far end of the room, sipping from a glass of water.

"Do your worst" the prisoner spat. "They've tried everything on me, and I won't talk."

But the Azguard stood there, silently, sipping his water. The prisoner was confused, but remained silent for now. After a considerable wait, the Azguad stretched, put his glass of water on the table, and removed a couple sheets of paper from his pocket. He held them at his side, and finally spoke.

"Tell me." he said "Why did you burn the fields of Garqi?"

"That food was going to be used by the Coalition. If we burn it, the people pay attention, and wonder why their so called "Just government" is letting them go hungry" he said, with a smidgen of smug triumph.

The Azguard was once again silent, before he spoke again. "And why do you want the people to feel their government is not just?"

"Because it isn't!" exclaimed the prisoner. "The people will rise up, and the galaxy will be free, you'll see."

"Indeed" said the Azguard, with a straight face. He then placed the sheets of paper on the table. Each one had a various terrorist attack on it. Each showed the dead and wounded, the debries. "And those. Those were all to prove how unjust we are?"

The prisoner seemed tounge-tied momentarily, but he eventually recovered "Those attacks were all made against the establishment, an establishment designed to keep people down and-"

"Really? Keep people down?" said the Azguard "And you're showing how thats' wrong? How?"

"We're showing how weak you are, if you can't even stop-"

"But I thought you were trying to show how unjust we are" said the Azguard, his tone still calm and relaxed "Why should the people care wether we're strong or not?"

"Because... Because..."

The Azguard picked up his glass of water again, and took another sip. "All right, so you do these attacks to benefit people. You fight the system so that the people will be liberated. Is that right?"

"Yes!" exclaimed the prisoner, pleased to be back on safe ground again "To the death!"

"So why do you kill so many people if you want to free them?"

"Its' to prove- I mean they work for- They're part of the-"

"Because all I see is a lot of innocent people dead. I have yet to see any liberation." Said the Azguard, calmly. "Now, I want to know, where did you get your orders?"

"I'll never say!" He shouted "Never! Never, dammit!"

"I head you." said the Azguard "All right, so you'll never tell me. Do you care about anyone?"

"What?"

"Are there individuals in your life you care for?"

"...Yes."

"So you would not want to see them die?"

"Is that a threat?-"

"Because, as it is, people are dying, people like those you know, friends like those you have, they are dying. You and your organization are killing them. And killing these people - regular people - is not furthering any cause, there is no liberation because a ship crashed or a fire-fight on Fierre killed a dozen people. All that happens is that people die."

The prisoner was silent, he had been told a thousand formulated answers to these points, but none of them seemed to work or make sense now that he had heard the Azguard speak.

"I don't want people to die" said the Azguard. "It is my job to see that people don't die. And currently, you are standing in the way of me saving lives. There are people who will die soon, and their deaths will not liberate the galaxy, they didn't do anything to deserve it, they were just targets to your organization. Now tell me, where did your orders come from, or a lot more people are going to die."

After a while, the prisoner spoke. "Ord Biniir, we went to Ord Biniir. In the city park of Orodo."

"Thank you." said the Azguard, nodding politely. Then he left, and the prisoner sat in silence, looking at the pictures he had left behind.

Somewhere in the darker part of Isht...

A Bothan on Isht was rare enough, but one walking the alleys and backways alone was unheard of. It was downright stupid, if you were terrorist. You stuck out like a bantha in a pony show.

There had been reports of Bothans among the crowds inciting the locals to riot. It was a lead.

The Bothan was walking a stretch between high rises. It had been lit at one point in time, but the recent rioting had shattered the nearby glowlamps. It was a foolish thing to take such a path, but the Bothan didn’t want to be seen. Maybe if he had taken a more well lit path, he would have noticed the dark form trailing him.

That dark form tackled the out of place alien, picked him by the collar, then pinned him to the wall by his throat. The Bothan struggled and tried to pry the hand gripping his neck off. It wasn’t going anywhere

The dark form spoke without pretext. “I’m an Imperial, if you haven’t guessed already, since you are, in fact on an Imperial world. Now, I am not your stereotypical Imperial. I don’t delight in pain, I like aliens...well, most aliens..I even had a wookie friend once...”

At that point in time the Bothan started gurgling, and his struggle’s became less intense.

“Don’t interrupt when I’m speaking...anyway, so this wookie...ok, fine, if you find it necessary to breathe more then once a minute.”

The grip on the Bothan’s neck was released and he slumped back to the ground.

“The point I was getting to what that, although I am an Imperial by birth and choice I do delight in causing another pain...”

Once the Bothan had enough of his strength back he bolted upright and made a run for the end of the alley. The Imperial spun of his heel delivering a spin kick to the back of the running alien‘s leg. Something cracked.

“...but I have no qualms in doing so, if necessary.” The scuffle had taken them out of the darkened part off the alley to the edge of light cast by the first functional lamp. It revealed a tall, gaunt human dressed in tan.

“Now, my friends above us” referring to the every present Imperial warships orbiting the planet, “are going to pick your brains apart and turn you inside out. You’ll them everything they want to know, plus a little. But I don’t have time to wait for those freaks with the drugs and hot pokers to get it out of you. I need information right now, and can’t risk you dieing from shock or having your brain fried.”

The tan Imperial pulled a vibroblade from a sheath on his waist. The low light glinted off the tip of blade. “Now, are you going to tell me what I need, or does the lovely Lana get a new Bothan fur coat?”

There’s something horrifying about a blade. Maybe it’s the idea of the cutting, and digging, and slashing, and pain, and blood that makes it such a terrifying weapon. Or maybe it’s because the assailant has to get up close and personal to use it. Combined with all that, plus the fact that this particular Bothan watched too many slasher holos as a little furball and was scared to death of knives, he broke.

No matter how much you believe in cause, no matter how conditioned you are, everyone has a button. And Sarreti found this being’s button.

He got a location. Of sorts. Rictus Sarreti’s next stop was an orbital space station. He was going to help with that though.

Ord Biniir, Orodo Park. 3:04 A.M. Local Time.

Team J had been authorized for activities in the park. The planetary officials had okayed the mission, as had Coalition command.

It hadn't been too long since the Garqi mission, and the contact was believed to be waiting around for his operatives' return. The success of their mission meant that they were willing to wait longer for their operatives' return, and the team just had to hope he hadn't skipped town yet.

The prisoner, whos' name was Jose Ushida, had agreed to participate in the mission in return for having his sentance softened. He moved with a touch of uncertainty to sit on a park bench. And there he waited.

"J-1 this is J-5, the T is in P" J-5, a Small Bimm was positioned in a nearby bush, a stun-rifle held carefully in his hands.

"Roger J-5, hold position." said J-1 into what looked - and was - a common cellular communication device. In his other hand, he addressed the buisness section of the local paper. As a human, he fit in anywhere. Behind him, J-4 the 'blind' Cerean tapped along. "Is everyone else in position?" asked J-1.

"Affirmative" said J-2 "J-3 and I are set up on opposite rooftops on either side of the contact area. From here we can see the entire operation." J-2, a Rodian for Anoat, sighted down his sniper rifle. J-3, an Aqualish, was hiding behind a vent on the opposite roof.

"This is J-6" said J-6 the Azguard "I'm in position." he said, from the comfort of a speeder nearby the contact zone.

They waited in silence, for the contacts' arrival.

__________________________________________________________________

Mohans, the contact, saw Jose. This was the last thing he needed. He'd been hoping rather strongly the whole team had been wiped out, it made it so much easier and tied up all the loose ends neatly so he could move on to the next operation.

Mohans sat next to Jose. Jose seemed nervous, but then, he always had seemed a little twitchy. Mohans simply nodded, and said "So how did it go?"

Jose had been briefed on what to say, and he repeated what he had been told "We set fire to the fields like you said, but we didn't make it out ok. There was an angry mob of farmers, they got everyone but me. I made it out in the ship."

Mohans noticed something off. Jose was speaking... strangely. But he had no time for such things. He had to tie up all the loose ends quickly, and Jose was of no use to him any more. He let his hat accidentally fall to the other side of Jose, and as he reached over to pick it up, slipped a concealed knife into his ex-colleague's ribs. Jose made a near-silent gasping noise, and Mohans whispered "It has to be done, Jose, for the cause."

__________________________________________________________________

"Move in!" Shouted J-1 into his phone. "I repeat! All operatives move in!"

J-5 opened fire on Mohans, as J-1 and J-4 rushed forwards, pistols drawn. Mohans collapsed on the ground, and people scattered in all directions. The Cerean concentrated on the wounded man "Jose isn't dead sir" he said "But badly wounded."

J-5 left the bushes and began unloading a first-aid Kit. Jose just sat their, looking in plain horror at the wound in his chest. J-1 Grabbed Mohans, who seemed to be losing conciousness. "Listen to me Goddamn it!" he shouted "Where are you operating from?!"

Mohans confused brain tried to understand, and he opened his mouth to answer, when a las-shot went through his head. Only split-second reaction time saved J-1 from a similar fate, as he rolled out of the way of four more shots aimed at him.

A speeder, with two individuals in it, both heavily armed, rushed away from the scene. J-6 spotted them, and engaged pursuit at full speed.

"I can't get a clear shot at them!" said J-2, who cursed loudly. J-3 had left the roof-top and was trying to find a street that he could use to cut them off.

"J-5, you stay here!" bellowed J-1 "J-4, come with me." and the two ran off in the direction of the speeder.