- Old Saying






They move like graceful thunder. With power and with stealth at the sametime. The stormtroopers of the once proud 210th Brigade. Steps rumble across the surface. They march in almost perfect form, as they were trained, under strict teachers they were molded students, but somehow their indoctrination went wrong, somewhere along the lines the division between right and wrong became blurred for these men. And especially for their commander, Maverick Elara.

His well groomed face, smooth and defined by a chiseled jaw was typical of a clone, but Maverick was very untypical of any of his fellow troopers. Trained by the finest at the Imperial Academy he had excelled in areas his fellow clones may not have. His marksmenship was on an almost inhuman level and his body remained in peak physical condition even as he stretched into his later years. But what the Academy's professors had once called "the future of the Imperial Military" had in many ways become their worst nightmare. Over the past five years he had slipped into a more and more severe mental disease that was altering his view on reality.

And as he was of the same batch as his fellow clones, his squad was slipping into insanity just as quickly as he.

Twelve of his men lined up behind a group of twenty-four female Mandalorian captures. New Holstice was litered with small villages of struggle Mandalorian survivors. The males had already been executed a few hours prior. Lined up in rows of two, the females shivered with fear. Maverick stood before them, standing at dead center and looked into the black visors of his men before nodding with the order.

Their blaster rifles fired once, piercing through the skulls of both women in each row. The Colonel watched as their bodies fell lifeless to the ground. He nodded once more as his men fell back into place.





Circe had spent almost seventeen days on Bakura trying desperately to negotiate the approval of an outpost. Although he hadn't the backing of Imperial Command, he felt it very plausible to attempt to do so himself and then inform Imperial Centre as a boost to his own career. A base on Bakura would be giving launching territory to hundreds of Outer Rim worlds. However, he was growing impatient with the stubbornness of several VindaCorp executives, that refused to allow him an audience with Mr. Vinda himself.

However Circe also had an interest in the main base of the Sacred Way. A devout follower of late, the Captain had made a promise to himself that he would visit the origins of his religions. And in addition to the proposition of a staging area he had had a chance to visit such. The aging man decided it was best to do so before he got to old or worse he just continued to push it forward until he realised it was too built up to do so.

He had been sitting on the bridge of the Skullprey for several hours now, without a single word. He had been enjoying the almost entire silence. All the filled the room was the beeps of the ship's systems and a low rumble. But the silence was quickly broken by Lieutenant Brody. He came stumbling over as he usually did. Circe was growing more and more loose with Brody. It wasn't healthy for either of their careers. Brody was useless in real action and mostly a bookworm. He had no spine and not a single tactical or strategical bone in his bone. Circe mused about his 'boneless-ness'. But in all actuality was fearful for the boy's future in the Navy.

"Sir, you have a priority message from Command." He said.

"Put it through." Circe said sitting up and trying to straighten himself up.

What appeared was the image of a male officer, probably a few years older than Circe. He wasn't familiar with the man, but knew him as Admiral Pix Terrix. Somehow the man who had joined in his late twenties had managed to weasle his way to the top of the navy. Circe dispised men like him.

"Captain Davian, I have a probably that requires your finess." He said jokingly.

Circe had many things, but finess was certainly not one of them. And after the situation on Metropolis Prime it certainly showed so.

"I am prepared for launch now, sir." Circe lied.

"Good. You are being dispatched to nearby New Holstice. I am also sending an outside source to aid you."

"Bounty hunter?! We don't need their scum." Circe replied.

"You will need him. The situation has gotten out of hand. I'm sending you the dossier now." Pix said.

Circe looked to his console reading the information as Admiral Terrix continued.

"Colonel Maverick Elara is a specially trained Clone trooper of batch 34327-ss. During his years at the Imperial Academy, as you will read, he was praised as the future. But for some reason he has gone on a rampage. Normally the Empire would ignore any such massacres, but Elara has information sensitive to the New Order and he cannot continue to run free in his mental state. So far we've accounted almost sixty dead Mandalorians. We suspect he's moved on, hence the reason we're sending the Bounty Hunter. His entire squad has aligned themselves with him, making a lethal combination."

"Why are they so threatening?" Circe asked.

"They are one of the Empire's 'Black' squads. They have been sent into numerous worlds in order to dispatch threats to the Empire with excessive force--"

"In other words you send them to kill." Circe interrupted.

"Uh.. well... yes. Colonel Elara was recently given a mission to eliminate a threat to the Empire. His targets were eight Mandalorian warriors attempting to over throw the government on New Holstice and posing as stormtroopers. This is good news for us, considering it provides us with cover from media attacks. However, Maverick created a massacre killing all Mandalorians, female, child, every single one with a hundred metre radius. And we fear he has moved on to other systems in order to dispatch previous threats in a similar manner."

"It seems to me he's doing his job Admiral? Are a few dead women and children bad for public relations?" Circe joked.

"Just find him and kill him at all neccesary costs. Failure is not an option, your command hangs in the balance Captain." Terrix spat.

The channel was cut by him, leaving Circe with the image of Terrix's scowl.

'At all neccesary costs'. Something Circe mulled over as he sat there while his crew prepared to depart. What a vicious cycle. He was being commanded to do exactly what a threat to the Empire was doing. Circe was not only digusted by the situation, but surprised entirely by the whole ordeal. It was pure and uttter redundance, and Circe was pretty shocked that Imperial Command had realised a fault in their 'equipment'. There was a fine line between right and wrong and both Circe and Maverick were walking it.

- the Book of Strife 1:21;2, The Sacred Text of the Cosmic Way




The water world seemed almost harmless, but in reality stockpiles of illegal weapons were present all over planet's floating cities. Those responsible were a group of religious extremists preparing for their great battle. One that their watery goddess Ludrey would lead them to victory with. Alone they are harmless, but if they managed to gain Coalition allies another war with Empire could be costly. And it doesn't aid these extremist's cause by stealing from Imperial supply frigates.

Storms raged on Aqualude like the mix of emotions that was gathering below. Elara stood over a sea of Aqualude natives. They were lithe and had pallid skin; very human-like qualities. It made no matter. The Stormtrooper was prepared to dispatch them all, just as he had numerous other threats to the Empire. It was as he often referred to it: 'the price of peace'. He always assured himself that he was doing what was neccesary to retain order. High Command gave him the order and he and his team made problems just 'disappear'. Now Elara was aligning the sights, he was deciding who was the threat. Since the Empire was letting some of them slip through the cracks, he was just continuing his duty. There would be no medals for him, no glory, not even the thanks of a peaceful Empire.

But someone had to do it.

"Sir, we've rounded up the last of them." His sargeant said, walking up behind him.

For the massive size of the oceans on Aqualude, there were only two cities on Aqualude. And only a combined two thousand settlers. They were a very exclusive sect; it was truly hurting their society in terms of numbers. Those that didn't fit the ideal image and health of their species were exterminated. They were truly a species of elitists.

"Are our men in position?" The Colonel asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Then we take our leave Sergeant." He nodded to his Sergeant who quickly walked off to prepare their ship.

He laughed inside. Their ship was a stolen frigate; something they were forced to aquire because of their lack of aid from the Empire. They were outcast now, truly isolated from their former allies.

Elara about-faced and began walking toward the landing pad when the Shaman stood up and rushed to stop him. He quickly spun around his blaster rifle in hand and pointed at the humanoid's skull; just centimeters away from his face.

"What is this? Some jest?" The aged man asked.

"Not at all." The Colonel replied through his helmet, his voice sounding mildly artificial. He would have spoken face to face with the man, had Elara any respect for him.

"Then you are letting us go?" The Shaman responded.

"I am doing nothing of the sort."

Elara pushed the Shaman back into the crowd below and took one last scan of the faces; several humans scattered in the bunch as well it surprised him. The few hundred here and the others in the other city would be dead, but not until Colonel Elara and his men were safetly away.





Circe couldn't believe how fast these stormtroopers were moving. They were slightly better trained than the normal stormtrooper, yes, but these were far more vicious. The Captain looked down at his dossier on the Colonel leading them. Mission, after mission he was successful. Graduated valedictorian Corellian Academy and top of his class at Carida. He was a clone, yes, but he had a mind of his own. The cloners and even the professors at the Academy should have realised he wasn't exactly docile. He was smart, and well trained. And just five years ago he had undergone further training to be enducted into this black-ops version of the Stormtrooper Corps.

"Captain..." Bordy mumbled from beside him.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" Davian answered.

"We've had confirmation on his last target. A world called Aqualude in the Outer Rim. ImpIntel had discovered they were the source of some raiding in the further-out transport lanes, but declared them observation only." Brody was very well informed on it. The studious nature was sometimes annoying, but times like now it proved useful.

"And?"

"He detonated the twin-cities support system and they sank into the water drowning all of the cities occupants." Brody stumbled through it.

Circe might have too. He looked at his datapad one more time, looking over the information. There was a list of possible targets; Aqualude was among them, but so were seven others now. He didn't have time for research. The aging Captain didn't have the luxury of good intelligence either.

"Plot a course for Praesitilyn."