Revanche, Confederation Flagship, in orbit via New Holstice

In the depths of the Confederate battleship, black-clad sailors and command crew performed their almost daily routines within the Command Information Centre near the center of the ship. Analysts scrolled through various holo-reports and documents taken from the planet which they now circled. In the center of the dim, circular room, a group of officers, including the Rear-Admiral himself, watched a life-size holo unfold. In fact, it was the reason the Confederation Expeditionary Force had been deployed.

“Horrendous,” muttered Lucerne, watching the holo completely played out, “I guess this is our reason for not raising clone forces on Genon.”

The others nodded in agreement. The younger Lucerne’s blue eyes scanned the scene. Former Imperial troopers stood and walked with their stormtrooper armor and weapons casually across the scenery. More disturbing, the rogue clones seemed to have little care for the drops of blood spattered across them; the blood of the innocent civilians they had just executed. Corise clamped his jaw.

“Sir, we have got the reports from the New Holstice government. The Empire did come back to New Holstice pursuing the clones. The Skullprey arrived and orbited and left once they determined the clones left. They didn’t send any relief that we know of; at least according to the governmental reports.”

The Rear-Admiral sighed. “A squad of their men executes over sixty men, women, and children, and they don’t even send a shuttle. We’re cleaning up after the Empire, it appears. Any idea what prompted this all?”

“Supposedly several Mandalorian warriors in the village planned to overthrow the planetary government. They were sent to neutralize that threat.”

Corise nodded. “And they neutralized anything in sight. What does the government have to say about it?”

“Officially, the government has no comment; doubtless they don’t want to provoke the Imperials into any aggression. Unofficially, the incident created a lot of backlash among New Holstice’s citizens, for the Imperials, especially with its sizeable Mandalorian population. During their exit from the planet they caused a fair amount of damage, both in lives and materials, according to the government. They’ve been since trying to repair the damage caused by the rogues-”

“Repairing that will take more than Bacta,” quipped the officer.

His XO stood silent for a little bit. “It’s a start, sir.”

The Kashan man nodded in agreement. Star destroyers, cruisers, and other warships coalesced around the flagship. Turbolasers bristled across the fleet. Various starfighters maintained their combat air patrol. An impressive show of force. But might was not the most important element to the success of the Confederate mission. Instead, it the man ovoid craft scattered across the fleet: the Styria Galleons. Every galleon stocked with Bacta or other reconstructive equipment. Gradually, the galleons departed to the surface as per the orders of the New Holstice government to unload their relief supplies. New Holstice was known for its famed medical facilities as one of the hospital worlds of the Mid Rim. While they had the personnel and the buildings, their supplies were running low. Bacta in particular. Three factions controlled the Bacta output for the entire galaxy. The Empire controlled Thyferra and its nationalized Bacta companies. The Vinda-Capricia Commonwealth controlled some of the Bacta output too, from Thyferra and space stations. It was pricey, but available on the open markets in some areas, notably corporate states. Lastly, the Confederation had established its own Bacta production facilities, breaking its reliance on a vital, potentially enemy controlled substance. Now, some of the military stores of Bacta, unused because of the lack of casualties of the military, was being broke open to finish the healing process.

“Sir?” reported a communication’s officer.

“Yes?”

“We’ve received a message from their capitol building. Their Prime Minister wants to discuss some matters with you personally.”

The Rear-Admiral nodded. “When does his excellency wish to see me?”

“She is proposing at 17:00 hours local time, at her office.”

“I will be there,” stated Lucerne, turning to his XO. “I have three hours until the meeting takes place. And obviously, I’ll be gone before that. You have command of the fleet, Commodore; at least until I return.”

“Yes sir.”

Corise picked out a woman in the crowd of officers. “Have the Java prepared to launch in one and a half standard hours. I’ll be making a groundside visit…”

Echtabahn
ISD V Tyrant
In orbit


"Sir, it appears he just let them go."

Commander Nabatt Nyang of Red Squadron stood before Colonel Vos's command chair and finished his report. Commander Nyang was a smaller man, unimposing to say the least. But when it came to intelligence and hacking work, he commanded some of the best in the galaxy. Red Squadron hadn't done much in the past few battles; Wes had been saving them for situations like this in which their expertese would prove invaluable.

Wes set his jaw. This could ruin everything. All the work he had put into establishing friendly relations between the Imperials and this area might be completely destroyed by the rash actions of some clones and the ineptness of their pursuit.

He took a deep breath, then spoke. "Circe Davien is a fool," he commented. "An Imperial, and a decent commander, but a fool nonetheless. He should have contacted me or Moff Drayson when the mission went bad. Now the trail is getting cold and he seems to have given up the chase. So, it falls to us to clean up his mess." He thought for a moment. "Gather the squadron commanders. We may be able to salvage the situation, but we have to move quickly." Before the Confederation does, he added to himself.


Echtabahn
Briefing Room, ISD V Tyrant


Wes finished speaking, and his commanders sat in shocked silence for a moment. Commander Rhytrian Thrahrn of Black Squadron was the first to speak. "He let them get away?" he asked.

"Apparently so," Wes replied. "At least he hasn't caught them yet. And according to Commander Nyang, the Confederation may have gotten word of the situation. If I don't miss my guess, they'll be headed for New Holstice with everything they have, ostensibly to give aid to the planet. In return, they'll want the planet to come under their useless democratic government. We have to stop it."

Commander Racen Selere of Gray Squadron asked, "So, any ideas where these clones might have headed?"

Commander Nyang responded, "We don't have an exact location yet. But we think they headed for Handooine."

Wes continued. "These clones aren't stupid. They knew the Empire would be after them, hunting them down. My theory is that they tried to get close enough to Black Dragon space that the Empire wouldn't send ships after them, but not close enough that they would be discovered. They may have travelled on to Jabiim or, heaven help them, Iego. Or they may have stayed on Handooine, hoping that the Coalition and the Dragons would keep the Empire away. Either way, it's our task to find them and bring them back to New Holstice for trial and execution.

"So, here's the way the assignments will be divided. Gray and Green Squadron will travel to Handooine with me. We'll be searching for any leads we might pick up. Black and Red, you go to New Holstice. Stay out of sight, but alert us if anything happens. Blue and Orange, you stay here at Echtabahn with the fleet. Commander Smith, you're in charge. I don't want to come to blows with the Confederation, but I do want an overwhelming show of force should they move towards New Holstice. Don't engage, but don't let them land, either. Everybody understand? Good. Let's move then."


New Holstice
Just outside sensor range


The twenty-four TIE Phantom IIs dropped quietly out of hyperspace. Their ships completely hidden from both visual and electronic scanning, they began to spread out. Soon, their own sensors covered the entirety of the planet, able to intercept any communication to or from New Holstice. Now, all they could do was wait. They didn't have to wait long.

Not an hour after they had arrived, the might of the Confederation dropped out of hyperspace. The Phantoms remained invisible, but the commanders knew a message had to get out. Nyang spoke into his stealth comm, "Captain Foreman, take your flight out to open space. Make a microjmp out of the system, far enought that the Confederation ships won't pick up a message. Then tell Commander Smith that the Confederation has arrived in force. The normal fleet size, plus one much larger ship, designation as of yet undetermined. And tell him that we may need backup."


Echtabahn
ISD V Tyrant


The message arrived undetected and was taken to Captain Smith. The fleet jumped to hyperspace not long after, but not before the message had been forwarded to one Grand Admiral Telan Desaria of the Imperial Guard. If it came to blows, they would have backup - hopefully. But now a peaceful solution rested on the success of Colonel Wesley Vos and the two squadrons that even now searched for the renegade clones.

Revanche, Confederation Flagship, in orbit via New Holstice

“Multiple anomalies? I don’t think so. Especially not ones that move in a consistent pattern. We’re dealing with cloaked ships,” reported the sensor specialist.

Rear-Admiral Lucerne nodded. Standard procedure called for Confederate starfighters to maintain combat patrols on the perimeter to detect and prevent enemy intrusions. A job that Confederation pilots took with discipline, but not much enthusiasm, especially given the rare occurrence of the said event. But it had finally paid off. Slightly over a dozen anomalies had been detected, and several starfighters had been dispatched to investigate what they were. All of them thus far had been identified by the ubiquitous Shadowcasters. While Confederation starfighters generally were equipped with top of the line sensor equipment, the interceptor’s was unique. Instead of looking for odd signatures to detect a craft, the Shadowcaster looked for what was missing with several full-spectrum transcievers. Since each transceiver is located in a different position in relation to each other, it is possible for them to cross-check and filter out the results in a manner similar to passive radar systems. Results from each transceiver came back differently on the craft came differently. Which meant something was wrong.

“And there’s more sir, Deathsabers assigned to travel them have picked up the same type of ion trail, it’s hard to follow, but not impossible given its consistency.”

Lucerne nodded. “That’s not much to go on, but it could be the same stealth craft that we encountered at Valinor.”

“Imperials?”

The Rear-Admiral snorted. “Do you know any other major power active in this area of space? And they’ve been encroaching on our territory as of late. Put every ship to full alert. Notify the New Holstice government about the likelihood of intrusion.”

“Aye sir.”

“This could bode ill,” idly mentioned a crew hand.

“This could bode bloody, for better or worse,” stated Lucerne, looking at the ship’s central holo-projector.

“How did the meeting with the Prime Minister go?”

“As good as it could have gone,” stated the Kashan man, “it was all trivialities and formalities, mostly. Oh, she thanked us for the aid and what not. I met most of the higher authorities on planet. And we’ve schedule another meeting for more official business.”

A woman walked in, and the Rear-Admiral instantly recognized her. Captain Valeska. The Confederation Expeditionary Force was a large fleet. Probably the largest within the region. The permanent core of the fleet consisted of the entire Kashan and New Oceanus defence fleets; moved from their secreted homeworlds to project Confederation influences outside of the government’s area. Complementing these considerable forces were fractions of other Confederate defence fleets. Thus, the armada formed could find representatives from all of the other Confederation worlds. Some of the more famous Confederate ships could be found in its ranks: Seraph, Steadfast, Pegasus, Audacieuse, Emancipator, Trojan, Constellation, and so forth. The former gunnery officer flashed a smile.

“Any news about this possible Imperial presence?”

Corise shook his head. “It wouldn’t be terribly surprising if they were involved, but it’s not confirmed.”

Valeska slightly rolled her head to side. “So what do we do if they do show up? We do have a plan, right?”

“Plans,” corrected the blonde man idly, “we have several plans for the eventually if they do show up. Plans which are already being enacted as we speak. But all of them revolve around one thing: it is the will of New Holstice people.”

“You couldn’t make that any more cryptic, could you?” questioned the Abhean native.

“I could-”

“Let me rephrase my first question. What do we do if they show up?”

Corise shrugged. “If they show up, we are cordial. We are polite. We are diplomatic. Let’s not try and blast them away unless we absolutely have to.”

Valeska looked around the room. “I hear you’ve equipped the Revanche with some rather nice railguns this run. We could always test those out. Say something triangular, made of metal, with-”

The younger Lucerne glared at the woman. “In any case, if they do move around, we’ll know about it. We’ve been keeping tabs on Echtabahn with S9s and anything moving through the Perlemian Trade Route will be picked up on our listening stations.”

“And if they don’t?”

“If they don’t, they probably won’t be here in time for anything,” mused Lucerne, there are no other remotely fast routes to New Holstice aside from the Perlemian. I mean, it took us some time to get here because of avoiding spaces of Imperial influence. They could theoretically come up through the South, but that would be Coalition territory, and we’re going to hear any passage through there by our contacts. In any case, if the Imperials come, and do force us into a fight, we need to be ready, so here’s what we’re going to do…”



Bumperchute’s Tavern, New Holstice

Lame. Actually, very lame. The Confederate Security and Intelligence Service agent sighed, staring at his amber-coloured drink. If this is the most potent drink available, I wonder if it’s even possible to get drunk on-planet. Her eyes seemingly vacant, the female swept her eyes around the Tavern. CSIS established an operating array several weeks before the planned visit by the Confederation Fleet. Some operatives were charged with finding clues and tracking the rogue clone troopers of the Empire. Others met with politically active groups and leaders for various reasons. Others had been assigned to secretly shadow and protect important New Holstice officials; partially because of the abduction of the President of Serenno when Imperial forces occupied his planet, partially because of the recent death of the leader of Centares. It appeared to be a growing trend of destabilizing a government before Imperial forces moved in. Thus, any move against a leader would not only confirm Imperial involvement and subsequent arrival, but present an opportunity for the Confederation. Still other agents were present performing counter-intelligence operations. Wheels within wheels. A husky man swaggered into the seedy drinking establishment. Hoole smiled and beckoned him over to her private booth.

“You’re late.”

The man shrugged, pulling up a stool. “I was running a little late. One guy forgot his power packs.”

“So soon,” questioned the agent, “I wonder how you Mandalorians ever became warriors if that’s how you work.”

“We’re the best of the best,” proudly stated the man, “as the Imps will find out if they ever set foot on this soil again.”

“Somehow, I don’t think your band of brothers will be the only ones to provide them with a welcoming committee.”

The man nodded. “You can’t execute civilians and think it won’t tarnish your image and honour of a professional, or even as a people at large. Personally, I would like to execute sixty of them for executing my wife.”

“Careful,” chided the Confederate, “that’s coming awfully close to revenge.”

“So it is,” stated the man, “what’s your name again?”

“You know better than to ask that. Just as I know better not to ask you yours. If you ever do get a name from me, it won’t be my real one.”

“You spooks are all alike. Creepy, but smart.”

“You mean I don’t look beautiful?”

“Fine,” shrugged the man, “beautiful, creepy, smart, and potentially terrifying.”

She smiled. “More than you know.”

[font=Century Gothic]Echtaban[/font]
[font=Century Gothic]Imperator Mk-V Star Destroyer 'Tyrant', planetary orbit[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]Nothing could have been at the moment than the news that a full death-squad had managed to break free...Nothing, of course, except the revelation that they'd been allowed to escape, and by a fellow Imperial to boot. Days like this made the visit to the briefing room more than unbearable. It was, in the lieutenant-commander's humble opinion, time to be doing something about the situation, instead of simply discussing it...but there was a place for talk. Without a plan, any actions against the threat would be of severely limited effectiveness, if they even had any chance whatsoever of working.[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]What ate at him the most was the reason... Why would a fellow officer let such a threat go? It made absolutely no sense, to be painfully honest. Perhaps the only good news going through the soldier's mind was the fact that these things...these disgusting and dishonorable clones...were far easier to eradicate than a superweapon.[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]When the meeting was finally adjourned and the squadron commanders had all set about their various tasks, Jarred made his way into his quarters for a short bit of reflection. It was going to be a long, taxing mission...he was already sure of that. At the moment, he wanted to make sure that there were no distractions for him to encounter during the course of his duties. The two candles at the temporary altar he had established burned brightly, setting an eerie glow in the room; the scent of death wafted in once more, subtly mingling with the odor of the burning candle itself.[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]Mother Darkness, guide me this day. May my thoughts reflect your thoughts, and my deeds, your whim. Take hold of me, that I might not stray from what you show me; comfort me, that the slings and arrows of the foe might not harm me. May my life be ever devoted to what you teach me.[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]Sister Shadow, lend me your aid. Shower upon me your blessings, that my words and deeds might remain undetected, and empower me with the strength of your unseen embrace. Watch over me, that I might remain unknown; follow me, that I might have your shadow at my back.[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]Brother Gloom, lead onward to triumph. The strength in my arm rests on you. Shield me, that I might not break under pressure; support me, that my foes might learn the swift release of death.[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]With the short and morbid prayer complete, Jarred stood up from his kneel at the makeshift altar and snuffed out the candles, just in time to hear the door to the room whoosh open. The voice he heard carried a very unpleasant tone. "Who the Hell just died in here?"[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]The lieutenant-commander's response was less than cheerful. "You, Mr. Harlow, if you don't knock next time. What's your report?"[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]"The scouts have sent word of a significant Confederation fleet assembled at New Holstice. One ship doesn't match anything we've seen before, but the rest of it is all standard. The report has also been forwarded to Grand Admiral Desaria, a member of the Imperial Guard."[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]A grand admiral... Well, I'd better not screw this one up. Nope...no pressure whatsoever. "Excellent. Prepare the fleet to jump to New Holstice, and make sure we have everything for this one. I want all guns ready as soon as we arrive, and all pilots are to be on emergency standby. I'll be on the bridge with Captain Typton."[/font]

[font=Century Gothic]New Holstice[/font]
[font=Century Gothic]Imperator Mk-V Star Destroyer 'Tyrant'[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]As the Imperial fleet pulled out of hyperspace, a few things happened. First, their two Interdictors powered up, locking down the system with artificial gravity wells. Second, every shield projector along every Imperial ship sprouted to full life. Third, weapons stations all over the place started lighting the board with power checks, each and every one of them ready for the order to fire.[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]Of course, no such order came. The Imperial fleet presence, down to the last crewman, was present on a diplomatic mission more than anything violent. Still, they were bringing quite a lot of firepower, and it had to be ready at a moment's notice. It wasn't the safest thing in the galaxy right now, but...what was? And so, not firing even a single shot, the massive fleet--2 Mk-V ISDs, 3 EASDs, an Aurora Star Destroyer, 2 Curiasser Cruisers, 4 Stalwarts, 4 Druids, 4 Ferros, 8 Fires, and 12 Furies, a few FERAMs and two interdictors--all sat in the New Holstice system, as if waiting on the Confederation to make its next move. If that move turned out to be bloody, there would be plenty of trouble for it.[/font]

Handooine
Above the Planet

Two shuttles exited hyperspace simultaneously. Had the officials on Handooine been paying close attention, they might have noticed that the movements of these two ships were a bit too military. Or they might have written it off as ex-military pilots in civilian jobs. It didn't matter either way, though, since they weren't paying close attention. Nothing major had happened on Handooine since the Galactic Civil War, and it wasn't likely that things would happen soon. The war between the Coalition and the Dragons was over, and war between the Empire and the Dragons was not likely. The residents of the planet felt quite secure.

Little did they know how soon that sense of security would vanish, for in the shuttles that were even now approaching the planet were two squadrons of SS Kommandos and their commander, the deadly Colonel Wesley Vos. Standing in the cockpit of the first shuttle, Wes looked down on the planet where he believed the rogue clones had gone to ground. The air traffic controller's voice came over the comm, "Unidentified shuttle, please transmit your transponder codes and state your business on Handooine." The voice sounded bored, as if the controller had nothing to do but sit and watch holovids all day. Apparently tourism wasn't big on Handooine.

Wes nodded to the pilot, Green Squadron Lieutenant Kyle vin Ordin. Ordin initiated the vocal scrambler, which would modify his voice, and said, "This is shuttle Lifeline, transporting passengers from the Wheel to Handooine. Transmitting codes now."

Now the Kommandos set in for a decently long wait. As they had already noticed, the officials on Handooine were a bit slow in their response time...well, more than a bit slow. In fact, it took a full five minutes for the Handooinians to warm up their systems and run the transponder codes. In the meantime, the Kommandos discussed the upcoming sting.

"So," said Kyle, "you think these criminals are actually here?"

Commander Lomax chuckled. "This certainly would be the perfect place to hide. The way these idiots handle planetary security, I wouldn't be surprised to see the entire Black Dragon Army, Kris Enfield, and the remnants of the New Republic hiding on the planet."

Wes snorted. "I doubt their population is anywhere near that. Still, you're right. Finding these rogues should be a walk in the park."

Finally the traffic controller replied in the same bored voice. "Shuttle Lifeline, you are cleared for landing. Proceed to Hangar 32A. Be adviced, docking fees are fifty credits."

Wes laughed. "Fifty credits? What the kriff? Kinda cheap for docking fees."

Kyle looked at him. "Well, at least they're civilized enough to have a docking fee. And a hangar. We should be thankful for that at least."


Handooine
Hangar 32A


The shuttle came to rest lightly on its landing struts, giving silent testament to the skill of its pilot. Moments later, a second shuttle landed beside it. Both disgorged passengers, twenty-five in all. They moved to seperate areas of the hangar as though they each had seperate business, but communication was facilitated between them by way of small temporary implants in their ears and throats that translated vocal cord movement into gamma rays that were then translated by the earpieces into sound. It was a very new system, and as of yet undetectable, especially by the outdated security systems of Handooine. One could speak in a whisper and be easily heard by anyone who had an earpiece within a thousand yards.

Wes began detailing instructions. "Commander Selere, take four flights and head for the speeder rental area. Be in position to commandeer seven speeders. Commander Lomax, take two flights - Gray and Green Three - and head to various security terminals. Cover Gray 9 and Green 10 as they slice the systems. Find anything you can on the targets - names, visual scans, you know. Go."

The two teams split up, with most of them heading on different routes to the speeder rental area. Wes accompanied them, at a safe distance. Each member made sure to keep seperate from the others; it wouldn't do to draw undue attention to themselves. They all carried basic sidearms, and some, like Wes, had concealed weapons, but they were dressed as civilians and would, hopefully, be seen as such.

Lomax and his two flights moved quickly to the security terminals. It took less than a minute for them to secure uniforms of Handooine security personel and log onto the system. Several minutes of searching revealed scant clues. The rogues had definitely been here, but whether they were here now was questionable. Then Captain Rebar Luss, Green 10, got the idea to check current security holos. Three minutes later, he had a lock on one of the clones.

He spoke quietly. "I have one of the clones on screen now. What are your orders?"

Wes, at the speeder rental, replied in a whisper, "Use the security holocams to follow him. Maybe he'll lead us to the others."

Luss tracked the rogue Imperial through the streets and watched as he entered a small, nondescript dwelling. Using the cameras mounted nearby, he managed to get a pretty good view of the interior through the windows. At least eight of the clones were there, eating. Two more stood outside, looking somewhat relaxed; to the eyes of an Imperial SS Kommando, though, it was apparent that they were on guard. Where the last two rogues were he didn't know.

"Alright," he said finally, "I've got confirmation of at least ten targets at 1128 Tritan Way. Eight inside, two on guard, two unaccounted for. Orders?"

Wes thought for a moment. "Green Flight Three, stay where you are. Moniter that house, let us know immediately of any changes. Use secure comms if necessary. Gray Flight Three, Commander Lomax, join us at the speeders. Time to take down some rogues."

The five Imperials moved towards the speeder rental quickly. Within two minutes, they were in position. Wes said, "Green 10, any change?"

"No, Sir. Same count as before."

"Alright then," Wes replied. "Go."

As quickly as it began it was over. Twelve Handooine security guards neutralized, most just unconscious, without a shot being fired. The twenty Imperial Kommandos hopped in the best-looking speeders and accellerated out of the hangar, headed for 1128 Tritan Way.

The clone lookouts heard the speeders coming and began to move, but not quick enough. Just before the Imperials arrived, Wes said, "I want these kriffers alive. Set weapons to stun." The speeders pulled up to the house. Two quick shots sent the lookouts to the ground, out of the fight. A small shaped charge planted by Gray 3 blew the door in, and the Imperials stormed the house.

Lieutenant Fleetfire, Gray 8, caught a blaster bolt in the shoulder as he entered the building. But he was the only Imperial casualty in the short firefight. Within a minute, all eight rogues were laid out nicely on the floor, ready to be tied and transported back to the shuttle.

Then Luss's voice came over the secure comm. "Sir, I have two contacts, speeders, heading away from the house at maximum speed. Must be the two missing targets."

Wes grabbed up one of the prisoners and jogged out of the house. "Keep us updated on their movements, help us cut them off." He tossed the deadweight rogue in the back and hopped in, gunning the engine as he did so. The rest of the Imperials did the same, and the six speeders flew after the escapees. Under Luss's guidance, the chase was fairly short, and before long the Imperials were closing on the heels of their prey.

Lieutenant vin Ordin, Green 8, quickly assembled his sniper rifle, which he had cleverly hidden in his clothing. Captain Lomax, piloting the speeder, jumped to the front of the Imperial pack as the rogue clone led them through a series of twists and turns in the streets that was somewhat reminiscent of podracing. Soon, though, the rogues found themselves on a long straight stretch of road with no available turns. Kyle sighted down the barrel, focusing on the engines of the rearmost craft, and fired. The engine cut out and the craft skidded to a stop on the ground. A stun bolt stopped him as he attempted to escape. One of the Imperial speeders stopped to pick him up as the others continued on. But another shot from Kyle, and a second stun bolt, dropped the second clone as well.

The prisoners collected, Wes commed back in to Luss. "Everything still secure there?"

"Of course," Luss replied. "I already looped the camera link to every other terminal. Nobody else will have seen the chase. Still, you might want to come back quickly. We need to get out of here."

"Will do," replied Wes. "Alright," he whispered, "Let's move out."

It took them fifteen minutes to return to the hangar and another ten to load the prisoners. Five minutes later, with clearance from the tower control, the two transports were headed off-planet, making for the place that would allow them to jump directly to New Holstice. Wes had big plans for these clones.

Revanche, in orbit via New Holstice

Corise scanned the holograph of the newly arrived Imperial fleet, visually identifying ship types. The bridge crew was running passive sensor tests in the area, looking for anything suspicious. He frowned. That’s not enough strength to defeat us very easily. For once, we actually outnumber the opposing fleet. The younger Luceren set his jaw and stared at the Imperial ships with puzzlement.

“Sir, their interdictors have powered up their gravity wells. Looks like they don’t anyone entering or leaving.”

Corise shook his head. “They’re in violation of international law for doing that; If New Holstice is a member of the League of Nations, I imagine some Imperial commander’s head would be cut off. Signal the Imperials and tell them this: they’d better had a a good reason for violating international law, and if we grow irate, we might manually shut the gravity wells for them; probably with several slugs or missiles. And by several I mean at least a hundred.”

“Yes sir.”

Corise returned his attention back to the planning holo-projector which changed its projection of the Imperial fleet to an overview of the system. The younger Lucerne picked out a far point and pointed it out to Commander Gaeta, who nodded. Gaeta summoned several officers, pointed out the nav point. They nodded ane exitted the Revanche's Control Information Centre.

[font=Palatino Linotype]Jarred sighed as the message from the Revanche came in. This Confederation officer was already getting on his nerves, and easily so...not something that the lieutenant-commander appreciated, given the circumstances. "Comms, put this man on the holo-transciever. I wish to speak with face-to-face." There was no calm, relaxed sense of self in his voice as he issued the order; instead, he seemed ready to rip someone's throat out with his bare hands. That, in itself, would have been a ghastly release of the anger welling in him at the moment.[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]Gradually, the image materialized, displaying a miniaturized image of the ranking Confederation fleet officer. "Good morning; I'm Lieutenant-Commander Jarred Smith, of the Imperial Special Forces. Without further ado, it has come to my attention, good sir, that you have a grievance with our actions in this system." Not at all offering a salute or removing his scowl, the soldier cleared his throat. "The extent of your presence here has been interpreted by the Empire as a threat to our security, and we are responding with a show of force against this perceived threat. Any hostile actions on your part will be viewed as a precursor for war, good sir; to that end, I strongly advise that you reconsider whether or not you wish to 'manually shut down' the interdictors that have been brought here."[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]The voice behind his thoughts grew stern, and icy. "Now, praytell, what is the reason for your presence in this system?"[/font]

Imperial War Games, Deep Space


" An excellent shot. I dare say though he shant make another like it."


Grand Admiral Baron Desaria took pause for a moment, considering the statement of the man standing next to him. Every fiber of his being wanted to cry out and berate his arrogance, but sportmanship got the better of any impulse. Instead, the Kuati aristocrat ran a black gloved hand over his close-cropped hair and simply smiled, his eyes peering into space beyond.


" Here he comes."


The other man smiled in turn, trying to hide his nervousness. The leather of his own gloves crunched quietly as his fingers expanded and curled, a sheer sign of nervousness. He look intently out at the barrel-rolling TIE Defender with its white-slashed wing emblems and swallowed whatever pride remained. 2nd Squadron, 74th Fighter Pursuit Wing, stood silent watch nearby, its contestants already having run the course and outdone the records held thus far. But the Guard was closing fast, too fast for their liking. Many, many eyes watched with baited breath as Colonel Devlin himself grabbed hold of his fighter's controls once again. The eyes watched the Defender spin on its axis, seemingly out of control, then straighten up at the last second right before a small brownish rock almost covwering in the path of the screaming ship. The craft levelled out and fired two shots, each piercing the rock and scattering its matter to the solar winds. Cheers rang out among the Imperial Guard, jeers among the regular Navy.


" Good show then." Vice Admiral Tyrridius swallowed his pride indeed and extended his hand to the Grand Admiral. He had wagered his pilots could outfly those of the Imperial Guard. He had lost.


Nearby a droid moved between the men and their respective staff officers, some colelcting on credit wagers others digging in trouser pockets to pay newly created debts. Both men lifted drinks high and saluted their players to the tune of ringing crystal. The Grand Admiral was about to muse on his last competition, a bout of pistol prowess, when a yeoman handed him a small datapad.


" Another round perhaps?"


The Grand Admiral grumbled lowly. " There isnt time it seems. Admiral, I must not only end our games but this exercise series as well. The SS has come across some trouble not too far from here, and High Command would like us to respond."


" Very well then. Don't get yourself into too much of a jam, sir. You cannot sneak out of a rematch."





Several hours later...


The two fleets hung off at a distance, staring at each other over open sights, probing each other with sensors both active and passive, both wondering who would slip first and draw the first blood. Commanders on each side glowered at plot tables and cast scornful glances at the other, no more than a glimmer of light in the distance.


Tension was as thick as the gas of the nebula against which the arrayed formations were silhouetted. To a casual eye, there appeared disparity, more ships under one banner than the other. That changed in a moment. From the depths of hyperspace there came a force to be reckoned with, pulled across the boundary between dimensions by activated gravity well projectors. Both formations easily discerned if not through instrumentation then the naked eye no less than four Imperial Star Destroyers: two of those tried and true Mark Vs sporting their pair of triple-gunned super-turbolaser turrets, the other two Reign-class battleships almost as ubiquitous as the Imperial IIs only recently phased from service. Around them flew a nest of escorts: Fire-class frigates and heavier cruisers a dozen in number. Dwarfing them all was a titannic craft of lumbering speed and dauntless power; at the center of the formation sat the Intimidator.


The Guard has come to New Holstice.

"Now, praytell, what is the reason for your presence in this system?"

Corise stared at the man impassively. “We are here bringing and escorting medical supplies to New Holstice as a relief effort. It hasn’t exactly been a secret ordeal. If you will, your ship can pick up the subspace communication’s on the planet and see for yourself the local news covering that event. An event, which I will mind you, that was occurred by your forces.”

The blonde-haired man paused for a second, grasping the hilt of his dress sword.

“Commander Smith, perhaps I should rephrase and explain that message transmitted to you in more detail. We have no plans on leaving this planet any time soon; keep your gravity wells on. But if any of your forces interfere with our operations, whether it be a ship trying to leave the system on a courier mission or trying something somewhat intimidating, that will truly be regretful. We will defend ourselves and carry out our operations unfettered no matter what the cost may be; including war with the Empire.

That being said, establishing a blockade in a neutral system is certainly dubious. Let me ask you a question? Did you receive permission to ininiate this blockade of yours from the New Holstice government? Because if not, your forces are violating international law, particularly contempt of a government, the sovereignty of the said government’s spaceways, as well as economical damages incurred by the said blockade. Do you know what that makes you, Commander? That makes you a criminal; not any better than a thug. Sadly, I have some duties to attend to. Goodbye Commander.”

The holo-projector flared out. Lucerne sighed. Imperial arrogance. Think they can do whatever they want just because they’re part of the Empire. Think again my commander. Think again.

“Sir?”

Corise spun about to face the deck officer.

“Yes?”

“Their interdictors have pulled out starships from hyperspace. They have Imperial transponder codes. From what our intelligence says, it is probably the Imperial Guard.”

“Very good. Get me the best intelligence we have on those forces, and station several CAPs to keep tabs on their movements.”

“Aye sir.”

The Kashan man nodded and paced back to his command chair. He tapped several buttons, bringing up a composite holograph of the new Imperial presence as seen by the various cameras and Electronic Photo-Receptors of the Confederate fleet. Noting their position and strength, the younger Lucerne quickly began to jot down some thoughts on his datapad.



Groundside, New Holstice

“When you aim your weapons, have the sights trained on the torso of your target,” stated the man, “that way, if you shoot too high, you’ll hit their head. If you shoot too low, you’ll knock down their legs from underneath them. Right, now try it again.”

From the concealment of the forest, sporadic bursts of slugs converged onto the clearing, striking several old fashion manneques and droid shells. Sparks flashed across the targets, most hitting the ‘belly’ of the target while several strayed below and above that mark. The Mandalorian leader nodded in approvement of his comrades.

“Very good. Now try it again, from different positions and distances. Try it until you know you can hit any target from any possible, reasonable scenario that you could see yourself in.”

Men, women, and aliens nodded and complied with the order. Slug fire emerged from treetops, from nearly prone positions on the ground, and from a variety of positions using concealment to the fighters’ advantages. The former bounty hunter nodded in approvement, offering his advice and training to those around him; the shopkeeper’s son, the doctor, the newly wed couple, and to the college student. They have improved much since when they first arrived. He stared at a man leveling his man at a distant target. They brought death to us…The man fired, striking his target in the head…So shall we bring death to them.

[font=Palatino Linotype]"Do you know what that makes you, Commander? That makes you a criminal; not any better than a thug." The words did little to help Jarred's grasp of the situation, and had little positive note except to make the Confederation officer lucky that he had chosen to end the discussions then. There was a distinct reason that the lieutenant-commander tried to rein his temper in at any cost.[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]Fortunately for him, this mission wasn't as diplomacy-oriented as it could have been. He simply had to hold the Confederation forces long enough for his commander to get back with the renegades. That would be the end of that. At the same time, there had to be a contingency plan; if the dozen monsters succeeded, then this insertion would end up all for naught, and there would be serious repercussions as a result. The extent to which they could reach was...[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]...not pleasant, certainly. That was all the lieutenant-commander needed to know. Nothing else about the topic was even remotely on his mind. And I don't need to think about a failed mission, anyway, he reminded himself calmly, trying his hardest to let the anger in him leave his system before it could get any worse. Just think of relaxing thoughts. Happy thoughts. Thoughts that provide warmth and compassion. That led to the one conclusion that he knew could stop him from losing his tenuous grasp on his sanity. Closing his eyes for a few seconds, Jarred thought about the woman he loved. The effect was almost immediate.[/font]

[font=Palatino Linotype]"Captain Typton," he said at last, the tone eerily unperturbed. "Establish an encrypted channel with the flagship of the arriving Imperial formation, ASAP." For the moment, Jarred was willing to wait things out; that didn't mean that he was willing to do so without speaking with the other Imperial fleet. Hopefully, getting everything set up for that would go quickly.[/font]