"We await orders to engage." said the Vlyx's second-in-command, captain Carver. "Just give the order, sir."

Panacka sized up the force opposite, rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and said "No. We will not engage."

"Uh... what, sir?"

"We will not engage, captain. Hold our position. If you haven't noticed, we aren't all here yet."

The captain briskly moved to a moniter, which showed the layout of the battle. "Uh... you're right, sir. It's just first division - where are the others?"

"They're coming, Carver, don't worry. As it is, however, we will hold our positions. Are all ships combat-ready?"

"Yes, sir, definetly. Fighters have been launched, shields are up, weapons are ready. Any further orders?"

"Move us into a defensive formation. Anything that makes a move towards us should be caught in overlapping fields of fire. Begin to spread the Stealth Intruders out as well - not into firing range, just spread 'em out a bit. Give us some visuals. Oh, and if the Graviton detectors pick up anything, I want to know. Besides that, hold here."

Carver seemed uneasy, but he followed out his orders.

So the first wave of Teth forces waited, forming a tight knit of the massive Dominators and the Vlyx, a solid rock just out of reach of the enemy. They said nothing, they made no signal, they just sat, and waited.

As they did, Panacka checked the Graviton data with a critical eye. "Here, and here." he said, pointing to two anomalies. "Send these coordinates to divisions two and three." An aide rushed off to comply.

Panacka examined the scanning data as it continued to come in, scratching his head and leaning on the console. "These... no, these aren't Daemun forces. Our information on them is limited, but it seems these are regionals."

"What's the difference?" asked Carver, as he came to join Panacka.

"Think of the Daemuns as the elite, Carver - they run the religion and are more or less the heart of the Black Dragon Empire. There are lesser tyrants and enemies, but it is the church that keeps this beast together. Regionals can be turned, even a fanatic can be converted, which means our primary target is not here." He frowned "This could make things problematic. We couldn't go straight to Dameo without hitting Chandaar first... but if we want to free them of the Daemun's influence, we'll have to avoid destroying them."

"Freeing them of the Daemun's influence, sir? Just what is your plan?"

He smiled, and said "You should have been at my original strategy meeting, Carver. The plan is now a military classified document. Suffice to say that my actions here are going to have to be cautious. Follow my orders, and we'll see this through."



Waiting with her fellow soldiers deep in the heart of the Vlyx, in a Meteor dropship, Rebecca began to feel anxious again. "Why aren't we attacking?"

"Hold on there, missy." said Ishmael "This is an important part of every major battle - maneauvering. We don't just line up across from each other and beat each other until one side gives in. Not now, anyways. Panacka's going to try mind-games, provocation, or circling round the planet, just about anything that'll make them easier to fight. Sometimes a good maneauver means they won't even fight at all, if it means they'll be massacared. You just sit tight and wait. We'll be fighting soon enough - then we'll see how eager you are!"

They sat there, for the most part all of them. Great masses of heavier metals in artifical arangements could be detected moving in non-liniear paths across the system all from the point of origin of the opposing fleet. In his minds eye he could see approaching ships, very small and almost insignificant to the backdrop of larger capital vessels.

The Analysis portion of the Sensor subsystems allowed for Liege like scanning protocols. The detection of base metals was the simplest to achieve, particle detection could then map and trace the movement and thus, displacement of metals across the system. This being done by tracing objects magnetic tuning by the use of pulses from the sensors own analysis arrays.

Turning his attentions back towards the planet, he assured himself that planetary defenses were still active. Shield strength still registered at optimal levels, all weapons placements still registering battle ready. What were they up to out there... Sighing inwardly, he felt a twinge of guilt. He would need to make examples of these vessels to ensure the rest knew this was no joke.

All control Mysteri, lower frontal Field shield arrays, the web whirled with activity already, and he added to the chatter with his own commands of the fleet. Each ship of the line dropped its frontal field array, giving access to its frontal mounts, which was the plan. Target PIM's on the following unidentified objects in range.

He could not help but wonder what they thought a few vessels of such small stature could hope to accomplish against the might of the Dragons armor. It irked him, inwardly, as it made no sense. If they were positioning their vessels for a tactical advantage, why just these? Were their others? No, their couldn't be, even his sensors could detect no other oncoming vessels, and Coalition technology was woefully inept in most fields, cloaking included. They had stoped their fleet at range, yet decided to move against them with this...

Fire

Just as the space before Chandaar had been filled with the swirl of many fighter launches at once, it now filled with the bright glow of a hundred and fifty PIM missles launches. The self-propelled missles lunged from their respective vessels and hurled themselves at their targets, traveling at speeds only matched by the most advanced fighter craft in the Empire. turning his attention back to the fleet that sat there, he considered his targets dead. He contemplated the position once again, they just sat there....

Reload PIM Bays

.....Space.....

The bright blueish green trail of Ionic propulsion framed the twenty meter missles as they flew out against the backdrop of darkened space. Twisting about themselves in grouped formations, they spun about to direct themselves at their targets. A hail of asteroids detonated in the midst of the fleet, a target of the missles. A mistake for later Analysys calibration.

To the note of the small Infiltrators, their advanced anti-missle defenses put up a good fight against a mass of missles only slightly smaller than the ships themselves, but in the end it was for naught. Self-guided, propelled and more maneuverable there was no escape to be had. Brave crews put up brave fights as what once looked to be empty space filled with weapons fire, ships firing into the masses of missles that closed in on them, trying to destroy as much of the coming death that they could wave away.

The darkness, for a moment, was blue.

Multiple impacts, at different intervals between the two fleets formations, moving around the globe that was Chandaar. Truely destroying the ships would have required more firepower to have been brought to bear. No, they had not been destroyed, they had been rendered inert. Detonation after detonation cuasing massive Ion blasts that surrounded the vessels in zones of Electro-magnetic radiation.

It drained the shields with both physical impacts and fallout Ionization, just as the missles were designed to do. Once down, the shields would have fried like the rest of the ships systems in the EMP like effect left behind by the missles explosions. Ionized metal bore dead electronics, which would render dead crews if left alone too long... in the dead of space...

"Sir, some fire has been registered! Some of the Intruders are hit."

"Sir, you have to give the order to attack!" Carver was antsy "If they rushed us now, we'd be in firing range quickly, and you still haven't given us the order to fire!"

Panacka gestured for him to calm down, keeping two hard eyes on the enemy fleet. "I know you're eager, Carver - I want you to be eager. Be ready. But this is not that sort of battle. You have to think it is, you have to want to fight, but still, you must listen to my orders, or we actually will have that sort of battle on our hands, and then there'll be a whole lot of dead boys and girls in space in an hour or so." This seemed to silence the second-in-command, and Panacka nodded. "We wait."

They didn't have to wait long. Second and third division arrived dramatically, appearing over each portal.

Panacka's data had revealed that the two portals were the primary transportation in and out of the system. Information was scant, but it was estimated that the small seven-meter long vessels near each portal were responsible for their stabalization. Civilian vessels nearby panicked and scattered, but the motion was terrifying and silencing.

With dozens of warships appearing over each portal, not a shot was fired. Targets were certainly acquired - turrets turned, prepared to lay down unstoppable barrages of the heaviest Turbolaser fire on everything and anything around them that wasn't of the Coalition, but not a shot was fired.

The enemy fleet, positioned as it was to block First division, was now surrounded on three sides - more notably, however, was that Second and Third divisions were distant, so distant that they could fall upon the planet and deliver blistering bombardments upon civilian populations, construction facilities, and military installations. The planet could be slagged by cannons from the sky, and there was no way the defenders could spread out fast enough and in so many directions to stop them.

And yet, not a shot was fired. There was silence across space, one deeper and more ominous than any the vaccum had granted it.

Now, Panacka spoke. "Send the enemy fleet a message, I want to determine their commander - if they try and deny the message, have the Sinew try to force the signal."

He cleared his throat, and adjusted his clothing. I'm not just some crafty bugger, I'm a fucking bastard. But... better a fucking bastard than a bloody butcher.. A green light on his comm turned on.

"Defenders of Chandaar - one wrong move, one sneeze of fire, and we will slag everything and everyone our guns can reach, which turns out to include a fair portion of your home's landmass. I don't want to do that, and I'm fairly sure you don't want me to do that, so don't do anything stupid, and I won't have to.

"I want to avoid bloodshed, believe it or not. I know, hard to believe, right? I'm packing the firepower to wipe out civilizations, and I want to talk? Think it's a trick? Itching for a fight? I'm giving up strategic surprise and flanking because I don't want to kill you. I'm extending a chance to save your life, the lives of your men, the lives of your people, as well as quite frankly my own - I admit, you probably aren't feeling much goodwill to me right now, but for the sake of your lives and mine, you have to believe me, all I want to do is talk.

"It's traditional in many of the old wars for two commanders to meet before their forces engaged one another. Call it something like that, if you want. I don't trust comms. Pick a ship, meet me between the two fleets, and don't bring any fighters or such. I'll bring one, and we'll just talk.

"I'm warning you once more, though - you shoot at me or my men, you try and sneak up on me, you bring one of your plague-nukes, and all bets are off. I want to get out of this with everyone still breathing, but my soldiers will defend themselves if they have to, and if I have to choose I will chose the lives of my soldiers over yours. Are we clear? Don't force my hand, and we'll both have a chance."

He sat back, waiting for a response, or a reaction. I'm a fucking bastard, I'm scum beneath a boot. Sometimes, though, you need a bastard to get everyone out alive. Everyone.

Since the dawn of modern combat the old yet often used adage that "stupidity kills" still held true today. What being in their right mind would inssit that there be pre-combat negotiations face-to-face? Especially when he is invading the homeworld of fanatics. It made little sense, but then again to most Mysteri anything the holy Taj did not say, made little sense.

Vijil DeZuaga pulled up his jumpsuit to his shoulders, protecting his long and wide, deep scars scattered randomly across his body. Then cautiously he zipped it up before checking to make sure the insignia of a lesser Admiral he had been provided with was properly stitched on. DeZuaga had been "elected" to go speak to the infidels. After all he had proven most worthy to the Taj in years of service. Not everyone could stand the physical and mental rigors like he had. Not everyone could walk away from it in as good a conditional as he had. And not everyone could be a walking weapon.

Years before, he had been a number: G-842. For that number, he was also a rat. He was one of the few that had been tested for the Phage virus. Like nearly everyone else in that group, he had survived, but for the rest of his life he would be unable to mix with those not following the Taj, for his divine will kept his people safe from the plague. These infidels though, they were deserved of it. If they were so civilized why would they feel the need to resort to war as their first option? Talking is always so much more pleasant.

"Preparing to launch." A metalic voice informed over the public address system. DeZuaga had climbed inside a small, unarmed shuttle to ferry himself to the infidels. He smiled cooly to himself as he was ejected into space. Afterall, how often is it that officers from the flagship willingly throw themselves at defeat?

"We're not getting a message back... but they're not moving." said Carver, as he appraised a layout of the battle. "Wait... we're picking up one unarmed shuttle detatching from the fleet and heading towards us."

"I'm guessing that's him." said Panacka, grimly.

"Or a bomb." said Carver. "Or... I dunno... fifty solid tonnes of nanophage that they'll just dump on you. Take your pick, really. It could be a ninja, sir, and he'd just break you - with his face."

"Your concern is noted, Carver, which is why I'm going alone - if I don't make it back, carry out my battleplan."

Carver blinked, clearly shocked "B-but sir! Why would you risk your life like that? That's irresponsible command, I mean -"

"Remember what I asked you?" said Panacka. "Just trust me, I'll be coming back alive. Daemuns are fanatics, Chandaarians are people, like you or me. That means they don't want their loved ones to get bombed to hell, which means they aren't about to do something stupid. Besides..." He took a pistol from the arm rest of his command chair. "I'm always prepared."

"Shall we provide a fighter escort, or soldiers to protect your person?" Inquired Carver, but Panacka shook his head.

"No, I'll go alone, but get our guests to the comm room."

"Guests?"

Panacka sighed. "The guests? Hello? You see what happens when you miss my strategy meetings? Okay, have someone go down to A-level, that's the diplomatic level, and have the people recovered from Kessel moved to the comm room, okay? And treat them well, they might be key to the situation. Are our comms jammed?"

"No, sir."

"Good. Get in contact with the High Command and get their full briefing on events in the war so far - especially atrocities. Anything that was a war crime, anything wrong. We're dealing with the Daemuns, there's going to be something. Forward it to my shuttle and I'll read it on my way out."

On his way to the door, Panacka grabbed the ship's comm and sent another message, both to the enemy fleet (All of them) and to the shuttle on the way. "All right, I'll meet you half way out. I'd like a confirmation message from the shuttle before we dock, so I'll be waiting on that. Keep the comm channels free, so we can communicate - We have the means to make them free, but this saves us time. Remember, commander, no tricks. With or without me, my fleet can still waste your world, and I don't want to have it come to that. Come in good faith, or don't come at all - there's something the Daemuns aren't telling you about the war."

He cut the transmission and left the bridge, wondering if he'd see it alive again.



Panacka was climbing into the shuttle when a voice from behind went "Hey."

He stopped, sighed, and said "Cy, you're not at your station. The troops will need you."

"Not if you get killed, they won't." Sergeant Major Cy slung her rifle over her shoulder and joined Captain Panacka on the shuttle. "Carver's good at following orders, but the man couldn't command his way out of an open doorway. I'll make sure you come back alive, you just make sure whatever you're doing is worth it."

"Don't worry, it will be." I hope. Panacka sighed, and said "Okay, if you really think so, get aboard. And put on this vaccum suit, too. Just to be sure, of course."

Panacka got into the pilot's seat of a simple, unarmed transport shuttle, and adjusted his vaccum suit to get more comfortable. The hangar bay doors hung open, and the shield briefly went down. "You are clear to proceed, captain." a mechanical voice informed him, and the shuttle pushed forwards and into space. The shield closed up behind them.

"So..." Panacka started. "You're here to protect me... in deep space... when we're surrounded by massive enemy warships... with your rifle?"

"Yes." she replied, firmly. "Oh, and I've also got a bayonet."

"Oh, well, we'll be fine then." Panacka rolled his eyes. "Let's go."

The shuttle cleared the area where the Stealth Intruders had been hit - those ships were now being tractor beamed in by Coalition warships who briefly dropped shields to let them in, before sealing up again. The enemy had yet to exploit this, suggesting that they were wary of bringing down fire upon their home.

In the distance, Panacka could just see the two collections of warships either side of the planet, which threatened to shut down the enemy's portals and bombard the planet - did he have the heart to do it? That didn't matter. All that mattered now was the meeting he was flying towards.

"When we get close to the shuttle..." said Panacka "We won't do anything until we get some confirmation comms and scans. I'm not a total fool, hopefully, neither is their commander." Beads of sweat were starting to form on his forehead. Panacka suddenly felt something on his shoulder, and turned to see that Cy was resting her hand there.

"Relax, sir." she said "You'll do fine."

He nodded, and steadied his nerves. Weeks of planning, not to mention years of not being dead, were now at stake, but he had to keep it together.

The two shuttles approached, mid-space. On either side, deadly mountains of metal and bristling energy fields waited like tidal waves to flow down and pound into each other, but in the trough between them the two drops were mere meters apart.

"Wow... that guy... he looks pretty messed up, to be honest," said Cy, as she looked out the cockpit window. "I mean, the jumpsuit with the little insignia is nice, but if he was in one of my squads I'd just pass him the hand grenades and push him forwards a little."

"Even so, he might be our man," said Panacka. "We're getting a request to dock with him. Hold on, better check him out."

Panacka input several commands using the ship's computer. A panel nearby lit up, and inside he could see a figure shrouded in shadows. Panacka nodded respectfully and said "Anyone you recognize, by any chance?"

"Recognize him?" the coarse, crackly voice broke into harsh laughter, and the shadow ensnared figure seemed to strike his knee. "He? A Cron? Hardly! That... that thing you're looking at is a Daemun. From Dameo, you know. They've made an effort to dress him up but you can't fool the eye of experience. You've been sent on a wild goose chase, it seems, or at least been stalled."

"I'll bet he even had orders to attack..." Cy muttered, as she threw venimous glances at the man in the other ship "We should-"

"Hold on a second," Panacka had a thought. "This is a Daemun, right? That either means that the Daemuns have taken direct control over this front, or that they're operating independantly. Whoever we're trying to reach wouldn't be happy to know their side's playing with his people's lives without their own input. They could be more interested in killing me than stopping the fleet from bombing their planet." There was a note of disgust in his words.

Angrily, he switched off the panel with the shadowy figure and turned the comm over to the enemy fleet, letting the Sinew clear all channels first. "I came half way out here in space to meet my equal among defenders of Chandaar, not a Daemun lackey with no place here, because what I have to say is for Chandaarian ears. The Daemuns took Chandaar by force and by trickery several years ago and they're still using the same trickery now to take you into the war with them. Send me a real Chandaarian commander to speak to, or none at all. " He slammed the comm down and crossed his arms.

"So what's the plan?" said Cy, who stretched comfortably in the copilot chair.

"We wait."

"For a reply? Or molten death?"

"Prefferably a reply. I'll do it by comm if I have to, but the natives have got to have a commander here. I have no idea what's going on to keep him from talking to us - we're posing a real danger here, you'd think a smart commander would at least talk back. I'll keep an eye on the channels, see if they drop us a line, you just keep an eye on that guy next to us."

Panacka fixed the distant fleet with his eyes, searching for any hint of movement. Seconds passed like hours until a light began to flash on the dashboard comm controls. Cy glanced at Panacka before flicking the comm on.

"This is Captain Sepid. That man was not operating with my permission, but it does not change my stance - why should I speak with murderers when you attacked out ambassadors at Mon Calamari?"

Panacka scanned down his datapad for the relevant reference. Oh yeah, this one. "Do you want to know what your ambassadors said at Mon Calamari? Here's our recording of the only diplomacy they had to offer." Panacka turned from the comm to Cy, and nodded. "Play the tape."

"By Decleration of The Imperium, and by the Power of its Taj, Mon Calamari will be indoctrinated into the Imperium Proper. Its citizens will from hencefurther be regarded as Citizens of The Imperium, with all privlidges regarded therein."

"This system will be Recompiled and reformed to Imperium living standards and code. Construction is already begining on a DragoNest platform for increased trade and transport to the area, as well as a permanent lines of communication."

"An Arbiter travel platform has been placed at systems edge to incorporate this world into the Fast transit Network of the Imperium. Further communications will be preformed in person on the planets surface, prepare for Ambassadors to be transported to the surface at this time."

The tape clicked, and Panacka leaned forwards. "If anything, commander Isip's response to an outright annexation was practically docile. He ordered his ships to ionize the ambassador's vessel. The instant Ion made contact, the 'ambassador' ship exploded. We have the footage if you want to see it, but frankly, considering we were already in a state of war I don't see how my troops were in the wrong for fending off an attack on their soverignty."

"Why do you lie?" said the Chandaarian commander. "The Taj has declared your actions at Mon Calamari to come from the basest bloodlust and hatred for our way, and the Taj cannot lie to his people. Would you have me believe a film that can be fabricated or a recording that can be edited over my god?"

"No, not that easily," said Panacka, who cracked a dry smile. "Give me a few minutes to talk to you away from his eyes and ears, though, and you might see things differently."

"How can I be sure this isn't a trap?" The voice was laden with contempt, but Panacka's swift ears caught the slightest hint of curiosity. The speaker was still human, after all. "Even if it isn't, what could you possibly tell me that would interest me? My faith is strong."

"If your faith is so strong, then you've nothing to risk with meeting me," said Panacka. "All I'm asking is to speak to you man to man, not pawn to pawn. As for wether this is a trap or not, well," Panacak glanced at the other shuttle where the Daemun glowered, his trap unsprung. "Currently I'm 1-and-0 on traps, so I think you can trust me on that one."

Another long pause followed. Panacka wondered if he'd take the offer, if his gamble was right. Not every faithful follower is a fanatic, all he needed was for this one to be as big a general as he was a believer.

"Your terms are acceptable for now," the captain's voice begrudgingly declared. "We can see no immediate strategic disadvantage with meeting you. I'll be out shortly. Captain Sepid out."

Panacka let out a gasp he'd been holding in. "That was the hard part."

"So he took the bait," said Cy. "What's the plan?"

Panacka leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms. "Keep an eye on the sensors to monitor for captain Sepid's approach or any attacker. I'll make sure the presentation's ready on his arrival."

"And what if it's another trap?"

"Another trap?" Panacka just shrugged the possibility off. "Then I was wrong about this guy, and we're caught in the middle of a bloody and brutal crossfire."

Cy frowned, and turned to the sensors. "For someone under so much pressure, you seem to be keeping pretty positive."

Panacka's tone and arms dropped as he faced the Chandaarian fleet. "You have no idea."

Sepid's shuttle, graceful even for Black Dragon technology, floated across a short distance from Panacka. "All right," the Chandaarian said over short-wave comm, "you've gotten me out here, what do you want to talk about?"

"Our conversation isn't safe over comm-lines, especially with that vulture circling," replied Panacka, as he pointed at the Daemun vessel watching hawkishly. "Dock with us and we can have the meeting in the flesh."

"Do you take me for a fool, captain?" said Sepid, whose eye-rolling was nearly visible from where Panacka sat. "All you'd need is one blaster and you'd cut my fleet from its' commander. Very clever."

Cy glanced across to Panacka. "What now?"

"We might have to show a bit of our hand early," murmured Panacka, before lifting the comm back up. "All right, you want a vote of confidence? What if I have someone here who can swear I'm playing straight with you?"

"And whose word can I trust in all the heathen Coalition?"

Panacka smiled, turning a vid-screen on his dashboard upwards so that Sepid could just barely see it from his shuttle. On the screen was a man - one who seemed aged beyond his years, as though he had seen much and felt much. He was wearing a navy uniform for a navy that no longer existed, the markings of the former House of Cron still on his pauldrons.

He nodded. "Perhaps mine, captain."

It had the desired effect. For a moment, Sepid was stunned. "Captain Raleck! We... we thought you dead, along with the rest of the royal family."

"I almost was," said Raleck, with a faint nod. "But at the time, my opinions were... unpopular in court, and this distinction meant the Dragons gave me the 'mercy' of life imprisonment in their darkest prison on Kessel. Were it not for fortune being in my favour, I would not be here today."

Sepid had recovered, however. "We no longer bend our knee to the heathen kings of old, captain."

"No, you have new kings now, don't you?" Raleck crossed his arms and gave a resigned sigh. "It has been years, captain, I know, but I beseech you, in the name of the noble kingdom you once served, at least hear us out. You owe our people at least that much."

It was hard to read Sepid's reaction over the length of space between them, but eventually he picked his comm back up. "All right, I'll meet with you, but be warned that if this is a trick I won't hesitate to order my fleet to open fire and kill us both!"

Panacka exhaled a breath he'd been holding back. "That's all we ask."

Sepid's shuttle docked with Panacka's vessel with a thud, and the two captains made ready to meet.

Panacka heard the clank of armoured feet above, as Captain Sepid descended a ladder into the cockpit area. The man's clothing was outlandish, in the style favoured by the Black Dragon's followers, but in it Panacka recognized a few traits - the armour was far lighter than the average soldier, and brown robes of some kind were visible just under the plating that protected him. Truly, this was his opposite.

"Please," said Panacka, gesturing to a chair on the other side of the small cabin. "Take a seat."

Sepid glanced at Panacka warily, before sitting down. As he sat, Panacka noticed Sepid's eyes briefly turn to Cy, then back to Panacka. The slightest flicker in his otherwise grim features piqued Panacka's interest, so Panacka reached out and briefly held Cy's hand.

"Are you all right, my love?" he asked. Cy was startled, but luckily caught on to the ruse fast enough to stop herself from giving it away, and nodded. Panacka smiled, and turned back to Sepid. Definetly a reaction...

"All right," said Sepid, who seemed clearly uncomfortable. "You've gotten me right where you want me, now what? What's so important?"

Panacka reached out behind him and tapped in a few commands on his ship's dashboard. "Sepid, I'm here to correct a... mistake. A misunderstanding. The Coalition is at war with the Black Dragon Empire because, at a battle I commanded, a Black Dragon fleet invaded Coalition space and tried to sack Teth."

Sepid was unfazed. "That is more or less known to me. The Taj does what he must to defend his people, even if it appears to others like war - it is not our place to interpret His Will."

Panacka finished punching in commands, and turned back to Sepid. A thin metal line extended from a panel between the two of them, expanding at the tip to form a circular metal sheet. In a moment, that sheet lit up and a holographic display of Chandaar appeared.

"You didn't always believe that though, did you? Tell me about the time under the Cron."

"My people were under the Cron for a while, yes," said Sepid, shifting uneasily in his seat. "That was before the Taj brought enlightenment, brought peace-"

"Peace? What peace?"

"Peace of mind, captain. Peace of spirit. He has given us what our kings and nobles never could, his love and respect. We are like his children."

Interesting choice of words...

"If you are like his children, then I guess that makes us the kids who live across the train tracks that you're not allowed to play with? Why were my people over Teth less deserving of this love of the Taj than yours?"

"The Taj loves those who accepts him into their life - an obedient child is easier to love than one who rebels and steals, and your people have shown hostiliy to the children of the Taj many times. If He must make war to protect that which He loves, then so be it."

Cy wasn't certain of the whole thing. For some reason, Panacka wasn't showing the evidence yet. Every time Sepid spoke, the sallow-faced captain seemed to drink it in as if he were at a lecture in the academy, composing his replies and planning four moves ahead. It made her uneasy, for a soldier's world is hard to reconcile with the world of double meanings and subtle persuasion. Why did he touched my hand?

Panacka steepled his fingers as he considered his reply. "In that respect, he and I have a lot in common. I too am fighting to protect those I love, but I am fighting to protect them from him, not you. Tell me, who are you fighting to protect?"

This seemed to catch Sepid a little off balance, as he considered two answers to the question. "Well... my people, but it is through the Taj that we are protected. Any who threaten Him threaten us as well. You cannot separate the two - my people and the Daemuns are as one."

"I can't?" said Panacka. "Why not? What ties you to them?"

"You should learn to listen as well as talk, captain, I already told you that-"

"No no, I remember what you said - the Taj bringing you peace and all that. What I mean is what ties you and the people you love so much that you're willing to protect this god of yours even though by doing so you're putting you and your loved ones in harm's way, something which you say he specifically works to avoid?"

"You will not win the day with logic wordplay," said Sepid, who rolled his eyes broadly. "Say that it is a debt, then. We owe Him our loyalty as good children for all that He has done for us."

"Repaying a debt he forced on you with conquest?"

"Liberation! Why am I arguing with you here? We are commanders, we are here to make war not-"

"Are you a married man, Captain Sepid?"

The question was perfectly innocent. Panacka leaned forwards, resting his head on folded hands. Sepid seemed surprised, scanning Panacka's face to detect any clue or trick. "...Well, sort of, yes, I suppose."

"Not exactly an enthusiastic reply, but all right." Panacka gave a fleeting smile before pushing on. "Your sort of wife, you love her, do you not?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"And do you have any children?"

"Listen, where are you going with this?"

"Answer the question, please."

Sepid sighed, and looked away. "We're expecting our first soon..."

"Now answer this one - would you give your life for that child?"

Sepid was a little surprised, but eventually, he nodded. "Yes, yes I would. I would give my life for my wife and my child."

Panacka nodded. "Right... like any good father, you want to protect your child. You want your child to know peace, and love, and prosperity. You want to be there for that child, but if called upon you would sacrifice yourself before letting your child go. Do you believe the Taj and the Daemuns love you like that? When you feel the stirring of pride in your heart, when you think about what to name the child, where to raise the child, can you imagine them feeling that love for you? That willingness to risk life and limb before harming you?'

Sepid straightened, his resolve stiff and unyielding. "Of course I do, and nothing you Taj-damned filthy infidels can say will-"

"You'll stay in that chair, Captain Sepid, or by all gods everywhere both of us and every soul we lead will die in fire and be entombed in the void!" His voice was so harsh, his change in tone so sudden, that Sepid and even Cy were taken aback. Beneath the harshness, however, was the unmistakeable sound of pleading. After a moment, Sepid lowered himself back into the chair.

Panacka examined the holographic display of Chandaar as though nothing had happened. Eventually he looked up back at Sepid. "Your faith is strong. I believe that. I know it. All children at least want to believe their parents love them, but nothing is more dangerous than when a parent actually does not. Look at me, Sepid. We're not fools - we both have rank, and have born witness to many things. Have you ever seen anything that, if it weren't for the fact that the Taj gave the order, would have caused you to stop and wonder? To question? Is your faith and your devotion to the thought that all he does is out of love the only sureity you have that you are making the right decision in bringing your people into the firing line?"

Sepid was strong, but his tone was more reserved. "Yes, sometimes... The Taj tests us all in our own ways, to see that our faith in His love is strong. There have been times where I have questioned, but I have never been convinced, never seen an utter falshood or a complete deceit. He is no scheming politician or power-hungry king - His love is real, His forgivness genuine, His guidance just, and I remind myself of these things when I feel pangs of doubt."

"So is that why you fight? Because you have faith in his love? Because you are repaying your obligation to a father for that love? Because as the father you can trust him to protect you and your people, no matter how things might appear?"

Sepid nodded. "I would give my life for the Taj."

Panacka returned the nod, narrowing his eyes to Sepids'. "And what about your child's?"

Silence.

"I... I would..." Sepid struggled to find the words. "I would give my life for my... for..."

"If we follow out our orders, Sepid, you'll have to give your life for something - are you dying for the Taj, or for your kid? If it's your child, then I have no quarrel with you, because the threat to the ones I love is still out there."

Cy was amazed. Sepid had entered stern and solid as a rock, yet now he was hunched, thinking furiously. When had Panacka become so passionate?

Panacka got up from his chair and put his arm around Sepid's shoulders. "I have collected here evidence, some physical, some eyewitness testimony, and more, detailing the things that the Taj has kept silent about his love. I ask you only to watch what I have with an open heart, and if afterwards you're still sure the Taj loves and forgives all, then I'll send you on back to your fleet and I'll fight my way past here by force. If, however, you have any doubts, we can talk about it."

"...Okay," said Sepid. "Show me what you have."

Cy knew that was her cue, and quickly inputted the rest of the commands on the dashboard. The holoprojection of Chandaar expanded several times, become a blue cloud that dominated the middle of the room. Panacka reached in, as if 'rummaging around' in the cloud, before pulling out a clip.

"This," said Panacka, as he arranged the holographic image. "Is footage from the battle of Teth." The footage showed the world of Teth, with an assortment of Coalition vessels in orbit. Quite suddenly, and without warning, a Black Dragon fleet appeared and attacked, catching the defenders off guard."

"How do I know this isn't a fake?" said a suspiscious Sepid.

"Simple - do you recognize all of these ships?"

"Well, the classes at least, yes. They come from all over the Imperium."

"Interesting," said Panacka. "Because I don't recognize them. No one in the Coalition does - we don't know enough about your technology to stage something of this magnitude, we don't even know what your ships look like, never mind their markings or operational perameters."

Sepid watched for a few moments more, before saying "Why didn't they open communications? Why didn't they parley?"

"I'm afraid I don't know," said Panacka, who sighed. "We received no ultimatum prior to the invasion, no explination, no nothing. I happened to be there at the time, and at great cost I was able to defend my world, but if you wonder about the sort of protection the Taj offers, let me tell you that we were offered no chance at negotiation or diplomacy before the attack, and none since."

Satisfied, Panacka pushed the raging battle back into the cloud, and reached back in. After a moment's rummaging he pulled out another scene from the battle of Mon Calamari, the one still raging.

"You've already told me about this one," said Sepid. "Why show me again?"

"So that you can watch it," said Panacka. In due time, the ship was ionized, then of its' own accord blew up. The records sped up until arriving later that same day, when an Arbiter the Coalition had been pursuing opened a portal distant from Mon Calamari, out of which poured forth a teeming horde of Dragon ships, with their dread flagship in the lead. Suddenly the recording fuzzed out into static.

Cy watched the clip with surprise - she hadn't realized Mon Calamari was under attack. She glanced at Panacka, gauging his reaction, and realized that he already knew. His restraint and control was surprising, given the circumstances.

"Our feed was jammed at that point," said Panacka. "Tell me, Sepid, even if I were lying about your ambassador ship being rigged to explode, how could the Black Dragon Empire have had such a fleet ready to spring an attack the moment we turned down their offer? It looks to me like a fleet that size wouldn't be pulled from the frontlines where they'd be needed unless they intended to use it, which means they must have expected us to reject the offer and chose to invade anyways."

Again Sepid was quiet, brooding. His face was twisting more and more into a scowl.

Without comment, Panacka waved the offending clip back into the swirl of smoke, and pulled one more from its' blue depths. "And of course, you've already met the esteemed Captain Raleck."

The man in the hologram was indeed the captain, still giving a worn-out smile. "Hello again, Captain Sepid."

"And to you, Raleck... but how can I be sure it's really you?"

"You can't be," said the captain with a smile. "That's because after the Dragons betrayed the king and took the kingdom, I was 'disappeared'. Everyone else was killed, but I, for my failure, was sent to the deepest, darkest hole in the galaxy to die. I lived on Kessel for the most hellish period of my life, and my identity was washed away, but I still have one thing that anchors me to that place."

With that, Raleck pulled back his sleve, and showed his arm. On it a barcode tattoo stood out, with a series of digits under it. "Prisoner number 8-9-4-5-2-6 dash k," he said. "Maximum security clearance. The Black Dragon Empire thought I was a Heretic - worse than a heathan - because I failed in my work with the king. I failed the Taj, and instead of forgivness, I was damned to the closest thing to hell in the galaxy. I dug spice and rock out of holes in the day, and was locked into a tiny cell at night.

"One day, a band of Jedi broke into the prison to rescue one of their own, and while they were at it they saved my life. The Coalition's sheltered me ever since. I've gone a long way from home, kid, but I'm still a son of Chandaar. Chandaar forgives, the Taj did not."

Sepid couldn't meet his former superior's eye, drumming his fingers on the arm rest. "Any more?"

Panacka shook his head. "No, no more besides rumour and conjecture. I've shown you all that we know, the rest is up to you."

Sepid drummed his fingers again, and chewed his bottom lip. Finally, he met Panacka's eyes, and said "And should I side with you?"

"I'll march by your side, I'll fight to free you from Daemuns, and I'll never, never say that I'm somehow better than you or more right."

Sepid looked away, then looked back. "All right," he said. "I'm in."

One moment later, the circling Daemun assassin rammed the ship.

"What the hell is he doing?" said Cy, as she engaged the ship's thrusters and tried to rocket away from the attacking Daemun ship.

"Looks like we've been overheard," Panacka muttered. He jumped quickly back into the copilot seat and tried to engage the shield. There was a click and whir, the shield failing to activate. "Your shuttle's still stuck on us! We can't even engage the shield."

Sepid grabbed his comm from his belt. "This is Captain Sepid, stand down! That's an order!" The ship rocked as the artificial gravity tried to compensate for the sudden impact. "Why is he ignoring me?"

"Because that's no Chandaarian pilot, Sepid," said Panacka, as he watched the enemy. "The Daemuns don't take kindly to anyone trying to break free, it seems. You have to tell your fleet what's going on before a Daemun takes control of the situation - if one knows, it's a safe bet the rest will know soon enough."

Sepid nodded and retreated to the far side of the cockpit to comm back his orders. Cy tried to roll the shuttle away from the Daemun, but the awkward nature of the connection to Sepid's shuttle made it almost impossible.

She hissed in frustration. "Lose that thing or we're as good as dead!"

"If it breaks off before Sepid talks to his men, they'll thing the talks are over and might open fire."

"If it breaks off because this guy rams it, we'll all die!"

Sepid snapped his comm back on to his belt. "My soldiers know he's acting alone, they won't attack."

"Good!" said Panacka, who rushed over to the docking ring connecting the two ships. "Because we've got to get out of here!" With that, he slammed the airlock controls. The opening sealed up, and a tremor went through the ship as the connecting bridge was retracted.

Finally free, Cy slammed on the thrusters, launching the ship away at full speed. As neither the Daemun nor they had any weapons, it became a straight-out chase.

"Where do we go?" said Cy, as she raced to keep ahead of their pursuer.

"If we go back to our side, your men will get suspiscious," said Panacka to Sepid. "On the other hand, if we head towards your side, there's the same problem with my guys... and I don't trust Carver to keep an even head."

"Well we have to go somewhere!" said Cy, as she narrowly dodged a lunge by the Daemun.

Panacka considered their options for a moment, before seizing the controls in front of him. "Transfer piloting controls to my side, I've got an idea!"

Cy transfered thrust control to Panacka, who immediately panned upwards. In their rear-view screen, he saw the Daemun turn to pursue. Still spinning, Panacka watched himself and his opponant in the sensor screen, hoping to time his next maneauver right.

"Uh... Panacka? What are you-" Before Cy could finish her sentance, Panacka reversed thrust and changed direction, closing his eyes in fear. The Daemun, caught by surprise by the maneauver, kept spinning and rammed into Sepid's shuttle. The two mashed into each other, breaking up into a cloud of metal.

"So much for that ship," muttered Sepid. "Good thing I didn't have anything valuable aboard."

"Right," said Panacka. "We haven't got any time to lose. Sepid, the Daemuns aren't just going to let you stand down and let us through - they've already tied to kill us. If you want to get through this, we're going to have to work together, and the first thing we have to do is tell our people about it."

Sepid nodded, grim resolve setting in. "It'll be hard, but... I think I can do it. My people still have some loyalty to Chandaar. But where will we go? What will we do?"

"Let's just focus on the now," said Panacka, as he set up a holo-feed camera on the dashboard. "I think it's time for a joint address. Cy? Patch us in to both fleets."

Cy nodded, and flipped a few switches above the comm controls. "You're on."

With all the authority he could muster, Sepid stepped forwards. "Soldiers of Chandaar," he said. "As you have just seen, a Daemun agent attempted to disrupt a meeting between the Coalition's captain Panacka and myself, after going over our heads to try and stop the meeting from ever taking place. After having met with the captain here, I know why.

"There's much that we've believed on faith these last few years - a lot we've ignored, a lot we've chalked up to the will of the Taj. It's easy to have faith when you live in peace, but those days are over. Now the Daemuns are at war, and appealed to our devotion to defend them.

"For the longest time, I had that faith, that devotion, because I thought it was the best thing for our people. I believed in the love of the Taj, I believed that the Daemuns did know best, and for that, I was willing to die for them. But today, and for the first time in years, I am not.

"Because they're not the ones we should be dying for!"

Panacka was impressed. The man seemed to be either unravelling or freeing himself, it was hard to tell which. True believers are always under a lot of pressure - when they fall, they fall the hardest.

"We are the people of Chandaar, not the children of a distant god, and in a few short years we've forgotten that, even for all the wars we fought against them. We fight to protect our own, our loved ones, not ones who demand our love. That is why I, in good conscience, can't lead you to battle these men and women who have no grudge against our people. I haven't got the time or the ability to show you everything I've witnessed during this meeting, let alone debate it with you all, but If you still have that spark of loyalty, that trace of memory of what we used to be, of who we are, then I ask you to stand with me. I don't want to be a part of this any more."

There was an ominous silence as the transmission ended. In the tiny shuttle, drifting so vulnerably between the two massive warfleets, the three people inside watched for any reaction. Finally, the Inspiration began to move forwards. Cautiously, the rest of the Chandaarian forces followed in its' wake.

The comm unit in the shuttle crackled to life. "Sepid, is that you?" asked the voice on the other end - a woman's voice.

Sepid rushed over to the comm unit. "Janice!" he exclaimed.

"Are you sure?" she said, her voice carrying deep tones. "Are you absolutely sure that what they're saying about the Taj is true? Are you sure about the path you're taking?"

"I'm not so sure about anything right now," said Sepid, sadly. "What I do know, though, is that if I'm not absolutely sure about the Taj any more, I can't die for him. What I am sure of, though, is that I love you, and I'm not going to force you to follow my decision. I just hope you trust me that if what I've seen is big enough to shake my faith, it must be serious."

There was a pause, with nothing but faint static filling the silence of the shuttle. Eventually, Janice came back on. "We do trust you, captain. I trust you. The Inspiration is coming over."

As the Tion-class Star Destroyer headed towards the Coalition fleet, so too did the other Chandaarian ships follow in its' wake. "If... If I'm wrong..." stammered Sepid into the comm. "If I fail you... can you ever forgive me?"

"I said the Taj's love is without end..." said Janice. "But my love ends with you and our child, Sepid. We're ready to go."

The silence of the emotional moment was broken up by an intrusive beeping in the cockpit of the shuttle. Puzzled, Panacka pressed the command for the energency comm. "Carver, what's the matter?"

"News from Mon Calamari!" gasped Carver. "Ruuvan's been defeated! The capital's under siege!"