And Imperial Center was born anew.



































*

The old woman of Imperial Intelligence moved a little slower nowadays, shuffling through the corridor of an underground wing of their newest facility on Coruscant. Ysanne Isard knew she was getting old. It was a prospect that many contemporaries of hers would have fought tooth and nail over as if one could haggle with Death. She, however, did not mind the passage of time for the journey carried it's own rewards.

One of those rewards being that with age came... exhaustion.

Someone might frown at this, curling their lips at the thought of being tired all the time but Isard had come to enjoy her brief moments of respite. She needed more sleep now that she ever did and most, she realized, was due to her lifestyle and a catching up of the way she had lived her life, patterned after her father, Armand Isard.

Too many sleepless nights. Too much stress. Too much plotting and planning and too much burning the candle at both ends made for one tired old Director.

She knew that her time was ending and despite all, it was something she had come to welcome and eventually look forward too.

She looked at how the retired Grand Moff Zell walked the corridors of power with an ease she envied. Being retired, it was not his neck on the line if things went wrong because he held up to no 'official' responsibility. It was his experience that the active officers of the Empire tapped and, in doing so, allowed the old Moff to keep a finger on the High Command's pulse. He said what he wanted when he wanted and was held to no accountability because policy was no longer something he directed.

Officially.

She thought about the time that he and Kaine seemed to spend together and wondered who was grooming whom? Did Zell think to mold or shape the younger Simon Kaine into a mold of himself?

She thought the prospect unlikely for where Zell was loud, public and had a passion for the Imperial ideology (as he saw it) running headlong into the fire and coming out unscathed, Kaine was quiet, secretive and had a dispassionate sense of duty that rivaled that of machines.

It was Kaine's greatest quality. An ability to look at anything with a measure of dispassion and plan for the failures that would inevitably come; even from him. When a plan was made, he assumed failure and made arrangements accordingly to turn even such failure into a measure of success. Yet, when Zell planned, he assumed success and dealt with failure in not so constructive a manner.

Eventually, she saw, the two personalities would collide and who would end up on top was anyone's guess. For Kaine's successes also insulated him against the reality that the pieces of the game he played with were, in fact, living, breathing and every bit as ambitious and committed to the success of their endeavors as he was of his.

People like Theren Gevel who worked tirelessly and capably for an eventuality that some thought would never happen: The destruction of the Imperial Leadership from the Imperial High Command to the Emperor himself. Such an occurrence, from whatever source, was something planned for by the secretive Bastion Conclave and while others worked to ensure it wouldn't happen, Gevel worked to ensure that if it did, the Empire would be able to respond quickly and effectively marshaling it's vast resources against the enemy audacious enough to try and kill them.

Then there were the Moff warlords like Bhindi Drayson, who's attempts at amassing more and more power through better soldiers, ships and single minded obedience was both a source of pride and source of worry. The Moff was powerful for one so young and a potential catastrophe waiting to happen. But where Kaine took it on faith his enemies would fall before his feet, Bhindi didn't seem to trust the history of her enemies and prepared for the worst by reinforcing. Perhaps this was why Kaine left her to her own devices for he saw his own shortcomings and equally saw that Bhindi was answering them in her own way.

In any event, if Kaine died, Bhindi seemed to be the next in line for complete mastery over the Imperial Armed Forces.

The files of various able officers slid through her experienced mind: Park Kraken whose loyalties were under investigation at first was all but King of the Mid Rim, Telan Desaria, thought by some to be Kaine's right arm as he had a hand in many of the Supreme Commander's operations, Kach Thornton whose exploits reminded Isard of the blunt old Navy under Palpatine where he and his cronies did whatever they wanted and damn the consequences, their purpose as transparent as glass and their contempt so thick even a blind person could feel it. But under Hyfe, the Empire not only kept much of it's original intent and purposes alive but it did so in obscurity. Where the galaxy marshaled against Palpatine, it lay in confusion at Hyfe's feet and endlessly debated the right or wrong of it's actions.



Her thoughts came to an abrupt end as she entered her office, one of the most secure locations in the building, and could not help but react in startled surprise as she saw a figure seated in her chair leaning against a wall.


"Ciscero," she growled half in irritation and half in admiration.

Of all her agents, this one was the most realiable in terms of success. Of all her agents, this one was one of her most talented. And of those she had trained so many years ago under Palpatine, this one was one of the few still alive. There weren't many of them around as the newer recruits were all about gadgetry and technology.

Ciscero was from the old school of where it was taught that for one to gather intelligence, one needed to be intelligent. Now, all it seemed the youngsters wanted was a tight-beam, infrared digital recorder to feel themselves super-spies. It was this type of thinking that Imperial Intelligence, under her leadership, strived to eliminate from those wide-eyed and starry-eyed recruits. Other counter agents from foreign governments thought the same way about intelligence gathering and relied more on their machines than on their agents. As a result, the Empire executed hundreds a month. 'Monkeys with machines' they were called. And an Imperial Intelligence agent who did not learn from the mistakes of their counterparts were themselves eventually killed in the line of duty.


Ciscero eyed the Director of Imperial Intelligence with something akin to concern as he saw her slow gait.

"I am not dead yet, Ciscero." Isard murmured dryly, releasing the file under her shoulder and handing it to the agent.

"What's this?" the agent asked accepting the file. He at once saw that the file was old.

"The name of a person you will either capture for interrogation or eliminate." she said, putting in an electronic request for a hot beverage to be served quickly. The order was placed and someone would be by shortly.

"Any particular reason?" Ciscero asked. Normally, an agent was not supposed to question orders from their superior but Isard waved the minor irritation away. Ciscero had earned the right to a little more rope before she would decide to hang him.

She sighed as she sat down in her comfortable chair her bones aching, "Oh the usual, direct threat and obstacle to the success and continued life of the Empire."

"Is that all?" he questioned, sounding bored.

She grinned, one of her colored eyes flashing, and sat up slightly refusing to let her body be tempted by the soft chair. "Yes, but the difference is, this time, it's true."

Ciscero's eyes instantly became alert. This was starting to become interesting.

The Past - Endgame



General Simon Kaine stooped over the reports and sector maps set all over the obsidian table before him. The Galactus, his refuge from the outside world, allowed him to be a little more careless with the hard copies of his plans as his crew were handpicked 256th, soldiers who had been with him from the beginning and whom he trusted his life with.


His eyes scanned the tabletop for any sign of something missed, any small item that he failed to take into account that would set back the operation.

The nebulous goals of the Endgame operation very few could even grasp and those that could, very few of them did not regard him with some sort of wariness that came with identifying someone who was stepping out of character with an open ambition to seizing Coruscant itself.


Without authorization.


Without Regent Exceron's orders (or Isard's orders which is what it would amount too) he was off the reservation. He was in uncharted territory where success might be the only thing that would save him and where failure would doom he and his followers to certain death.

It was a risk and he felt the adrenaline rush and his hand shook slightly with the enormity of what he was about to put into play.

Black Operations Orders under Exceron's name, generated by him and therefore unauthorized and counterfeit, were simply waiting for his decision. If ISB, acting as Military Intelligence, did not get to Exceron then nothing would save him from Isard's wrath once the operation was uncovered.

He had already sequestered an Imperial Intelligence asset in the form of Ciscero working as a Governor of Coruscant and, if reports were to be believed, doing not a bad job of it.

The Empire needed to move now lest this overzealous agent actually turned the situations around on Coruscant and actually strengthen the New Republic.


His eye stopped at a photo of Coruscant and lingered there for a moment. His hand almost timidly reached out and moved other documents out of the way and his gaze of the world that he once called home brought back memories of his earliest recollection.

His mother had died the day before his exile. An orphan alone amid the harsh elements of a galactic wilderness. It was the last time he had seen his grandfather, his mother's father. He remembered the sad, defeated eyes of the Imperial Senator.

Endgame was not simply the capture of Coruscant. No, it was to be the triumphant return of it's child, Simon Kaine, one time discarded exile... the child that gods, monsters and men collaborated to destroy throughout his life.


No more!


He bore the physical, emotional and mental scars of his long journey back home; a journey that had taken more than two decades.


Two decades of exorcising his inner demons by climbing to the top of his class at the Academy despite his label as the son of a traitor. Of wiping away the stain of his father's actions upon his life when he triumphed over the elder Kaine on Sotel. What was to be his triumph was shortlived for at the very cusp of his victory, the Jedi destroyed the Emperor and fractured the Empire almost beyond recovery. In the Dark Ages that gripped the Outer Rim, while the New Republic focused on the Core (and more important) worlds, Kaine and his men fought back the barbarism and anarchy. A hand felt the ring under his glove and he blinked back the memory of Mya. His success towards his men and upon finding the Empire on Bastion almost washed away the sense of defeat Mya left within him. Almost.


They had prospered in the New Order that grew in strength on their Outer Rim bastion and he could see the pride coming back as they looked fondly back on better days.

When they were the Masters of the Galaxy.


And now, here he was, about to gamble with the lives of his men and the entire Imperial Navy.

If he failed he might be labeled as the worst traitor since Mon Mothma and her rebellion.

And while the halls of Bastion resounded with the glory of the Empire and despite the egos of officers such as Azrael Zell, Daemon Hyfe, Chau Ming and Telan Desaria, he knew differently.


The ideology of Mon Mothma, Leia Organa, Han Solo, that cursed Jedi Luke Skywalker and everyone who rallied to the banner of the Republic was alive and burned well.


He'd seen it first hand.


In the eyes of Searthen Jiren.


The solid resolution in the man's voice as he called for Kaine's surrender as they blasted a shipyard to bits.

The galaxy had reared back and would not be lashed down quietly. It was still dangerous and it's claws could still kill.


A memory of a Chiss pirate backhanding his face as the alien killed his childhood friend. The ghost of the pain lingered on the side of his face.

He had taken Arcadia and wiped away any memory of the Chiss being on the world.

All his enemies were being subjugated and made to regret their action against him.


Endgame was the cleansing.


The final move to fully come out triumphant.


He would take all his victories, all his triumphs, all the deaths of his enemies and even those of whom he had held dear and bring them to the feet of his mother.

A galaxy that conspired to keep him from his home would fall to it's knees to Simon Kaine. One way or another, succeed or fail, live or die, it would all be decided soon enough.


His gaze lingered on the picture of Imperial Center and his mind recalled the resolution in Jiren's eyes.


There was an element missing to the Endgame Operation.


He would steal Exceron from Isard and someone stronger would assume the throne of the Empire!

He would put Imperial Intelligence back into it's proper place!

He would dissolve the Imperial Senate!

He would smash any government who stood between Coruscant and him.

He would destroy Cryonics Industries and make the Empire a slave to no corporation.

He would smash the Jedi!

He would cripple the Sith by throwing them into the meat grinder.

He would smash the New Republic once and for all and end this Rebellion that caused him so much heartache.




Let Gash Jiren try to save his precious Republic!

Let Gash Jiren try to save his precious Jedi!



Those eyes.


Resolute.


No.


The man was a former Sith. He had taken to the Darkside and reveled in it and it was the Jedi who struggled to rehabilitate the man.

Now, he would walk the halls of Death itself to protect the Jedi Order and those under his charge!

Even if he self-styled himself a 'Rogue'.



Kaine would have to destroy Gash Jiren by pulling down the pillars of everything he took stock in.



What good is saving the helpless Jedi if own your home burned?


A slow smile formed. The systematic destruction of Jiren's base and foundation.


I am resolute as well, Jiren. You should have killed me when you had the chance!


And so, he formed the last of the 'Black Ops Orders', to be sent to a Captain Zallan and his fleet.


Black Order: ENDGAME-#854625



He sat down slowly and rubbed his face with both hands realizing that he was exhausted.

After a moment, he looked down and pressed the button that would transmit the orders in their entirety to the organizations, groups and naval fleets called for in the operation.


He had stepped over the line.


But success has a way of blurring the line.


In one stroke, all his enemies would be either crippled or crushed forever.

Black Order: ENDGAME-#854625


To: Captain Zallan, Imperator Class Star Destroyer Titan
Naval Fleet Asset E-5486

From: General Simon Kaine, Authorized CIC of Operation: Endgame, Bastion, Cmdr: Second Sentinel Fleet



Greetings Captain.

Your orders are to ready your fleet for immediate combat action. After refueling and resupplying at Muunilinst, your fleet is to proceed directly to Ossus and upon completion of pacification directives, to proceed to the system of Asthentia.

Your orders are to destroy the home of the Rogue Jedi Order and the home of Gash Jiren. Local submission is to be absolute and examples made of all who defy Imperial presence.

There is to be no mercy and no quarter given to any known members of the Rebellion found.

Resistence is expected to be light as any military assets will have been sent to Naboo for reasons that do not concern you.

Your action is but one part of a greater plan that brings Imperial authority to the galaxy once more.

You are to maintain communications silence until after the date listed below in the logistical addendum.

After listed date, the Regent and I expect the Ossian/Asthentian systems under Imperial control. Upon successful completion of this mission, a governorship of the very system you are taking may be in the offering so act accordingly.


Good hunting, Captain.


Gloria Imperium!


Simon Kaine
CIC: Endgame Operation

Imperial Intelligence


"His name is Teverek Shal and right now he is the most dangerous person in the galaxy." Isard said, handing Ciscero a data disk.


"You will pardon me if I do not quake in fear." Ciscero replied dryly inserting the disc into the receptacle. Instantly he had access to operational reports and as he checked the index he found that quite a bit of effort went into capturing this individual.


His eyes quickly grasped the content of each page read and in his scanning he located a common denominator. He looked up in slight enlightenment. "It seems you are chasing a Jedi, Director. A Rogue Jedi from Ossus to be exact."


Isard had walked over to pour herself a drink and shot back, "Do you take me for a fool, Ciscero? You think I did not immediately grasp the Ossus connection? Believe me, this man is no Jedi."

As Ciscero's eyes scanned action report after action report he noted quite a large number of failures.

"Are these numbers correct or is this disinformation?" he complained pointing to a correlating document.

"No operation, Ciscero... No task has been beset by obstacle after obstacle and ending in utter failure more than this one. I sent good agents and each one met with failure. I would have sent you but, to be honest, I could not lose an asset like you over this."

Isard gestured to the monitor, "Besides, he's always remained on Ossus. Now, he's in play as they say and that makes him a problem. A very large problem."


"I don't follow." Ciscero remarked, pulling the data disc out of the receptacle allowing the monitor to go dark.

Ysanne remained silent as if wondering if she should continue. "Do you remember an Intelligence man named Freedom?"

Ciscero's eyes frowned. "Only by reputation. He dropped off the net after Endgame and we never knew if he was killed or simply retired."

Isard smiled grimly, "He didn't retire. In fact, I sent him on his last assignment during Kaine's Endgame Operation."

"I don't remember seeing his name in any of the operation reports and I have scanned quite a few." the agent remarked.

Isard did not seem to hear him as her mind cast back to the past. "I was livid at the audacity of Kaine's plan and even so, I had not truly appreciated the scope of his operation until after everything was said and done. But I knew something was up and so tagged Freedom to observe the last fleet sent out."

Ciscero shrugged. "Most of the assets used were for blockading purposes. The only overt fleet action that occurred was during the attack on Naboo by the Sith."

Isard took another drink, tossing her head back and looked hard at Ciscero. "So the official reports say. However, Freedom's last communication to me was that he was aboard the Imperator Titan and on a course for the Adega System."

"Ossus." murmured Ciscero.

"Ossus," confirmed Isard. She set her drink down and sat down on a sofa lining a wall in the rather spartan office. "You will be interested to know that the ISD Titan appears on no active duty rosters and there is no information regarding it's demise. In fact, you have to dig really hard to even find any mention of the ship at all. The only conclusive information I could locate in our grand datasphere was the actual build date and a small notation of a Captain Zallan taking command two years before Endgame."

"Was the ship or it's fleet lost in transit?" the agent asked thinking of the Katana Fleet Grand Admiral Thrawn had been so intent on finding to continue the war against the New Republic.

Isard handed another data disc to the agent and after activating it, immediately saw a sensor reading of a durasteel plate. There was an identification number augmented digitally and Ciscero turned back to the Director in confusion.

"We happened to find this floating near Ossus." she said.

"The ship made it then." He shook his head as if trying to clear it, "At best, we know the ship made it to the system and then lost this plating." He shrugged thinking about the Star Destroyer he had commandeered from the Diversity Alliance during their attack on Sullust, "It happens."

"Scroll down and look at the identification." Isard ordered and as her agent did so he let out a startled gasp.

"Engine Room Interior Plate?"

"The ship would have had to have been destroyed for this piece to be floating somewhere. Anywhere."

Ciscero's mind was racing. "So we have a mysterious fleet dispatched to Ossus, presumably to carry the fight to the Rogue Jedi, who happened incidentally to be on Naboo contending with the Sith. At least the Titan is destroyed in Ossus space but we must assume the entire fleet was because there is no record of this battle anywhere. No record of survivors and everything regarding this side operation of the greater Endgame is purged."

His eyes narrowed. "But if the fleet was destroyed, perhaps walking into a New Republic trap or staging area, you'd think that Kaine would send another response fleet. Especially with the success he was having..."

Isard's grim smile widened and she stood up and walked over to the monitor entering a few commands into the consol. A picture appeared of various space junk floating and Ciscero had a sinking feeling what was coming.

"Funny you should say that, Ciscero." She stared at the picture with dull red and blue eyes. "Because he did."

The Initial Strike


Ossus


Imperator Class Star Destroyer Titan
Naval Fleet Asset E-5486


Captain Zallan watched his reflection advance before him as he walked to the edge of the bridge platform overlooking the various stations designed to monitor and direct the ship's functions.

The field of shiny durasteel ended and blended into a forward looking viewport that displayed the shiny orb that was Ossus, the seat of power for the Rogue Jedi Order, growing larger.

The fleet he commanded was not a large fleet in the grand scheme of things but it was of an adequate size for him to fulfill his mission.

This operation was not a blockade and Kaine did not care if the population welcomed their presence or not. He was to subjugate quickly and efficiently and the population be damned.

It was time to end the Rebellion in all corners of the galaxy and this was it's death cry.

There was nothing left for the Rebels to throw against the Empire.

This was Endgame.


As such, with an arrogance expected of a career Imperial officer who's seen nothing but unparalleled success these last few years, he ordered a channel opened to the planet.

"Ossus. This is the Captain Zallan of the Imperial Star Destroyer Titan. You are ordered to surrender your planet or suffer the displeasure of the Empire. You have two minutes to respond."


The minute stretched as the beeps and noises of the working machinery of bridge equipment continued. Captain Zallan drew a confused brow at the lack of immediate response for at least some minor planetary official should have been trying to stall him awaiting the arrival of one with the power to negotiate.

The one minute mark had come and gone.

Perhaps they were frightened?

But then why no response? Why no acknowledgment of his transmission?


He was about to open his mouth to initiate a further demand when static crackled through the open transmission and a steady voice broke through.

"This is Evek Jiren and you just made your biggest mistake! I am going to tell you to turn around this one time and go back to where you've come from. If you do not, you will all die."


Captain Zallan jerked his head up in anger. Were all of Jiren's family this obnoxious?

He turned to his Exec and ordered the fleet to cross into the mass gravity shadow of the planet and advance at attack speeds.

"Prime the weapons for orbital bombardment," he snarled under his breath but loud enough for his officers to carry out the command.

"Your last warning..." the voice of Evek Jiren called over the channel.


Zallan's lips curled into disgust. "Be prepared to surrender, Jiren!"


And as the ranges for the weapons counted down, his snarl turned into a feral grin as he prepared to give the order to open fire.

As he opened his mouth, a shout came from the science section.

A warning?

He held his command at the edge of his lips and turned to the increasing commotion coming from one of the department bridge pits.


"GET US OUT OF HERE!!!" came the desperate shout amid advancing Stormtrooper guards responding to the bridge outbreak.

The Captain snarled at the cowardly comment.

"Fir...."........eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee


And the attacking fleet died...

Ciscero thought about the oblique way that the Director had mentioned the tale of the two fleets sent to Ossus and their apparent destruction. What was more surprising was that there was no information even about their supposed defeat.

There should have been at least some record of the attempt at Ossus if not the success.

He was well aware that the Empire liked to nurse it's wounded pride and think of various methods of revenge for such instances of humiliation.

There had to be some records of the operation that Kaine had drafted. Any absence of these indicated such a high level of classification or at the very least, record deletion. Such practices as deletion were untidy to the orderly Imperial mind but it was also the most effective if one wanted to hide something.

But Kaine had been so wildly successful that even full, public knowledge of the failures at Ossus would not have derailed his high ride to popularity.

So why hide it?

Was it even Kaine?

Ciscero stopped. He had not considered that thought. He had fallen into a pattern of thought regarding the operations of Kaine and the control the man commanded over them that he dismissed even the the stray wild idea that perhaps there were others that might also affect such operations.

Again, who and why?

He had trouble thinking that the man Teverek Shal was the most dangerous man in the galaxy and he also had trouble attaching to the name the downfall of everything Imperial.

The only thing that gave his scorn pause was the dead seriousness of the Director and her refusal to go into specifics. Her only bit of advice was ambiguous enough, "Ciscero. To catch this man you will have to employ every power of sleight of hand and every trick of feint and oblique approach you can think of. If this man gets wind of your pursuit, I can guarantee you will fail."

"Is that what happened to everyone else?"

Isard's eyes narrowed, "We had a breach in security and even though the compromise was slight, it ended up being enough to mean the lives of several agents."

Ciscero's frowned, "What was the information that was compromised?"

Isard looked straight at him and replied, "The transports they used to leave Coruscant."

Ciscero's frown grew. "Not even their identities but the name of the transport was enough. That speaks of more organization than simple handlers."

Isard looked away and whispered, "Perhaps.."



Years Before...


"You don't have to go!" shouted Evek as Searthen brushed through the halls of the Rogue Jedi Order Temple barely hearing his relative.

"Searthen! The calcuations have not even..."

"NO!" shouted Gash as he stopped abruptly and whirled around pointing the hilt of his lightsaber at Evek. "What you did some would consider immoral. I have no qualms with you but do not think to break down the Force into mathematical figures! Do not think to devalue the visions it gives with technical terms! A vision of the future is a vision of the future and it cannot be changed. It can only be met!"

"What good is a vision of the future if you cannot change it?" Evek started to push back in scientific indignation. "You don't have to go!"

"You know what will happen if I stay! You know what will happen to Ossus if I stay and they come!"

"Only your inaction is required. Not your.."

Gash Jiren gave out a bitter laugh. "Evek, stop thinking like a scientist. When have you ever known me to sit on the sidelines when my people, my world, my friends or my life is threatened?"


"But to Naboo?" Evek yelled out as Gash had resumed his charge to the hanger. "What does the Rogue Jedi have to do with the Jedi Order.."

"We are ALL Jedi, Evek. With the Sith moving... the Order won't see it coming."

Evek spread his hands behind the other, "Open a transmission to Naboo for frak's sake!"

"I haven't received a signal from Naboo in response to any transmission sent in the past two days! Something is going down. Something with the Sith and if I cannot remain here, I will go where I can do the most good!"

"We haven't entered all the variables yet! Perhaps another batch of information will..."

"No, Evek!" Gash stopped near his starship and put a hand on Evek's shoulder squeezing it. Evek nearly yelped out in pain but was drawn up short under Gash's piercing gaze.

"Promise me that you will shelve this! Promise me that you will do nothing until I return! You are too young to see the potential harm in this path."

When Evek remained silent, Searthen squeezed harder and Evek shouted out, "I promise!"

Gash grinned as his young relative massaged his shoulder. "Only until I get back, Evek, and when I do, I'll have stories about kicking the Sith about from one end of Naboo too..."

Evek waved the older Jiren up the ramp to the waiting craft and stepped back as the engines roared to life, lifting it up and propelling it outward to certain trouble.


As the younger Jiren absently rubbed his shoulder his mind drifted over the data he and Gash had seen not more than thirty minutes before.

He had taken a leap that some would call immoral.

But was the quest for knowledge immoral?

"If you come back, Gash." he whispered, suddenly feeling morose. "If you come back."


He reached into a pocket and pulled out a tablet for his depression. He had seen a little more data the day before and the conclusions he reached..

Dark times were ahead and what could one man do?


Even a man such as the Great Gash Jiren?


Even now, the tendrils of evil were spreading ever outward and Evek did not know if even he could cope.

If the galaxy could not be saved...

Could a world?

The young scientist frowned deep in thought and began to walk back to his colleagues.


Could their world be saved?

Imperial Intelligence



Could there be an agency so secret and so powerful as to derail any organized action against it?

Ciscero shook his head. That way lay paranoia.


Even Imperial Intelligence did not have such a reach. No, organizations are limited only by the limits of what people can do for it. Unless it is an organization of one man, it will not be secret. One just needed to know where to look.

So, where do you go to find information about the contemporaries of Gash Jiren but to Ossus?

He was not afraid of doing so for the series of events described by Isard did not necessarily have to be connected. Simply a string of coincidence that placed an ominous shroud over something that was anything but.

The Agent known as Freedom was not a target. Not from the data he had seen from Isard. He simply had the bad fortune of hitching a ride on one of two attack fleets striking at Ossus. That the fleets failed, while strange given the Empire's successes elsewhere, was simply an eventuality one risked in war.

That the other agents were killed cast the skepticism of how much did one apply to coincidence?

Yet, in both the instance of the agents and of Freedom, there was no indication of them being specific targets but merely an extemporaneous detail as whole groups were wiped away as if by the broad stroke of a brush.

But what was pictured on the canvas was still a haze.

Even so, if he took his analysis further and inserted himself into the variables, whatever was be sent against him would be just as broad as what happened to the other agents.

He would shy away from relying on others and trusting his fate to their actions. No, he continue with his standard modus operandi and trust noone but himself and rely on no more than his own abilities.

He would have to purchase a ship.

Taken From Eclipse: Grabbing at the Broken Slivers of Light...




Apocalypse




The morning had an air of the typical as it always had for the past year. The same... everything the same.


The same lack of water…


The same cold and hot air circulators going on the brink…


The same dismal moral that lay like a shroud on the entire Republic Fleet.


Commander Trajan Vespian studied himself in the mirror, noting how the lines of life stretched from his eyes that once held a certain mirth.


War.


War had done this to him, he thought in an emotionless mental reflection as he dressed.

On his dresser was the current status reports of the ship. Reports that didn’t look too encouraging. Systems (major and minor) were failing and the lack of parts was beginning to take it’s toll. The ration schedule for the crew for the next month was also there for his review.

An inventory from the ship’s medical department… a plea for items that were hardpressed to be found on Corellia.


Especially a Corellia under blockade.


The monitor came on and the broadcast was another pseudo intellectual analysis on the ramifications of the Imperial operation called Endgame.


The Fall of Coruscant would have been a more apt title.


A signal that heralded the return of the Galactic Empire and a drowning of everything they had all fought, bled and died for.


Politicians were beginning to become a problem as civil unrests were handled despite the falling resources.


Then the near coup from the renegade Republic Admiral Drayson.


The only calm to their situation, the Jedi Master Gash Jiren, still surprisingly in command of the Fleet despite the politician’s meddling. The debacle with Thrawn that left the Jedi Master Hexyra hurt months before was a blow indeed to their moral. Not even the Masters were untouchable.


And then the damned plague that seemed to strike out of nowhere. Not even the Imperial Capital seemed immune.


Nature had a way of balancing things... and sometimes for the worse.


Yes, things are bad.


He touched a picture of Marlena on his dresser before exiting his quarters.


“Commander on deck! Sir, the Captain wants you in his conference room immediately.”


“Then the bridge is still yours Mr. Neran.”


Discipline. Drilled and redrilled at the command of Gash Jiren. It was the only thing that was holding the Republic together now. The citizens turned to the orderliness of the Fleet and found security in the familiar.


Unfortunately, familiarity also bred contempt. The Fleet had first priority on most things.

It was the only thing holding the Empire at bay, even under siege.

But to what end?

The Republic was losing and they knew it.

Captain Laskin was speaking toward a monitor holding the image of the Jedi Master though Vespian could see that this was a conference the entire fleet was listening in on.


“With Sernpidal gone, we will be hardpressed to find any aid among the Hapans..” he was saying.


“With Sernpidal gone, Captain Laskin, there is no strategic point to halt any attack by the Empire to sever the Trade Spine. That Spine, Captains and Admirals is what is keeping us .. keeping the Republic alive right now.

If it falls, we die.”


Trajan nodded at the sentiment and sat down next to his Captain. Pulling out his calculator he began to figure the time any retreating ships would take to reach what was left of Republic space.


Jiren’s image though looked amused. “No, Captain. There are any number of other ways we could die.”


He cleared his throat. “However, NR Intelligence has uncovered a serious situation developing in the Outer Rim.”


The Jedi Master pushed some buttons and tactical information began to scroll across secondary terminals.


“A planet shrouded in secrecy, the former capital of the Empire, Bastion, is the hub of a new rebellion. An emergence of a ‘New Empire’. This is why the Imperials have halted their advance after Sernpidal and why their ships blockading Corellia have departed.”


Trajan sat up straighter. This was news to him.


And the Captain’s voices drowned out Jirens…


“Strike now!”


“.. We could ally ourselves with..”


“..possibly buy us time to rebuild ..”


“NO!” shouted Jiren cutting through the chatter. “Look at what this New Empire is about..” and more tactical information scrolled by.


Trajan gasped.


So the plague had a name... Wrath..


Nature had no part in its inception after all..


“This virus was purposefully unleashed on Coruscant.”


“Yes.” Jiren confirmed. “I know Regent Hyfe will fight this upstart but Tilaric
Brel will hold the entire galaxy hostage and that, gentlemen, affects us.”


“You are proposing to join the Empire?” a Captain asked incredulously.


“We leave the Empire to deal with this then there is a gamble that they will fail. Then we will have to deal with them and we are nowhere near their strength. If we add our strength to the Empire’s there is a chance.”


“The enemy of our enemy is our friend?”


“Something like that.”


“Admiral Jiren, with respect, without Fleet presence on Corellia, what is to become of the Republic?”


Trajan had to respect the Captain who brought that up.


“What is to become of the galaxy if our presence is nowhere near the battle that will decide it’s fate?” Gash shot back and then he sighed. “It is a gamble. We win and the war with the Empire might start up. But the Empire is a known quantity. This Wrath virus isn’t. We win and both the Empire and Republic find they are too weak to fight themselves and the war is put off.

We come back to Corellia and retake it if necessary from the anarchy that would result in our absence.

Or Republic and Empire lose and then it won’t matter worth spit. Whatever happens, Bastion will be the place it is happening. Our fates will be decided there and, gentlebeings, I intend the Republic to be a major player. We depart in two days for Outpost 6512.”

Trajan looked at Captain Laskin. “What happens if the New Empire falls, the Republic falls, but the Galactic Empire remains?”

The Captain put his hand over Trajans and motioned for the younger man to put away his calculator.


“Sometimes the estimates do not take this into consideration.” He said, patting Trajan’s heart as he stood. “Come, we have a ship to ready.”

*

Elsewhere



"Gash, you cannot do this! The Republic is hanging by a fragile thread and you would throw it all away on what is essentially an Imperial problem?!"

Searthen's fingers rubbed the bridge of his nose in irritation at his relative's rant. "Evek, don't you ever just stop and judge an action on its merit and not on the probability of disaster.."

"This isn't just probability I am talking about, Gash and you know it!"

This time the Jedi Master did stop and real anger showed in his eyes. "Tell me you did not resume the project."

It was not a question so much as an order. The hard voice of Searthen cut through to Evek and the younger man actually stammered. "Not totally. You know there are certain variables that are still too unpredictable but the general outline we are getting from the parameters we can lock down are damned frightening!"

"This thing is a drug, Evek and is too addicting. I should have known it would be too much. When I get back, we toss it."

"NO!" Evek answered angrily back. "I've worked on this project for years..you.. you just can't walk into this and take it away just like that!"

"Jiren Tech owns it, Evek. I can and I will. For your own good. You are not just talking about knowledge but you are talking of manipulation. Over something that is simply probability."

Evek stared at Gash, looking hurt. "If you go on this mission, Gash. If you do this, you doom the galaxy to another decade of Imperial domination..."

Gash grabbed Evek by his shirt, "DOES HEX DIE!?" he shouted at the young man.

"What?!"

"Tell me, Evek. Does Hex, Leia, Amalia or Han Skywalker!?"

Evek's eyes narrowed in incredulity, evading. "Han Skywalker? Who the fuck is Han Skywalker?"

Gash grinned suddenly, "Nobody. Just threw that name in to mess with you. The point is, Evek, you can't see what is going to happen to us and as long as one of us is still alive the pendulum can be swung in the right direction."

The Jedi Master gestured down the hall they were headed, "But if Brel gets his Wrath Virus out beyond our capacity to contain it and obtain a vaccine, this galaxy will die! That is certain. That is what the Force is showing me."

Evek's head lowered, "I can't... I can't seem to see the future."

Jiren's eyes softened. "Evek, you are searching too hard, demanding too much and your mind is in a turmoil. The Force is always speaking but until your mind is at rest, you will not be able to listen.. you will not be able to hear the wisdom unless you ..." he grinned again, taking years away from his lined face and graying hair, "stop with these annoying projects and lend a hand in the fight for what is honest, true and good here."

Evek sighed, "What do you need?"

His victory won, Gash started to walk again, "First, I need actual coordinates to this Outpost 6512 or our fleet will be scattered like so many Padawans on orientation day at the Temple."

Years Before..


ENDGAME




Gash Jiren was on Naboo fighting the Sith and as more data had come in the results hinted at something greater taking place. Something nebulous... behind the scenes as it were and it gave Evek a shudder to even contemplate.

The extrapolations drawn from the data known to be true and augmented by data untempered by confirmation only led to nightmarish conclusions. Evek did not need the numbers to inform him that a darkness was drawing closed a curtain around the galaxy. A darkness that threatened the very existence of the New Republic, the Rogue Jedi Order and possibly every living thing in the galaxy!


He closed his eyes and as he tried breath calmly, the vision of ...


"If we stop spoon feeding the matrix and let it do the job we've designed it to do, the conclusions gathered could very well revolutionize.."


Evek's brow furrowed for his colleague Teverek Shal's voice intruded into his thoughts.


"What are you babbling about?!" he nearly barked out, a headache forming from his worry.


"Efficiency!" snapped back Dr. Shal in response. Turning from the person he was chatting with, Teverek turned to Jiren, "Evek, WE can make this happen! We are so close! Didn't the conclusions the data spat out regarding Naboo tell that kriffin relative of yours that what we have here is something NOT to be shelved? Something - "


Even as Evek agreed with the position Dr. Shal was taking, he felt a little defensive at the questioning of Gash Jiren's decision to shelve the project before he had left to (presumably) fight off an impending attack. But his own mental question haunted his thoughts..


Could the project be used to greater effect if only acted upon to save their world?


He nearly shivered in fevered anticipation. "Forget Naboo!" Jiren waved Teverek down. "What about Ossus? Could the variables be made to apply to Ossus alone?"

Dr. Shall gave an admonishing look to his Jedi companion. "The variables are what they are. The data is what it is," he chided. "Once action is inputted, they become data so can we effect an outcome that we desire? With 100% accuracy? 100% effectiveness? Perhaps, if our data was spot on and if it was incorruptible. But THAT is the bane we face. Just how reliable is the data that comes in? The conclusions the calculations come too are only as good as the data inputted and it is what it is. Whether we choose to act in a grander way, with a larger view instead of localized responses... that is our decision."


"Don't you ever give a short answer?" growled Evek, irritated.


"You want it fast or you want it accurate?" quipped Teverek in response.


"Just give me an answer!.." Evek nearly shouted and put a finger on his forehead.


A look of concern flashed across Dr. Shal's face. "Evek, are you alright?"


"Something," Evek whispered in despair, "something is coming, Shal. Here. To Ossus. Something dark and I can't... The Force is not ..."


"I would say that you've been under a terrible strain, worried about Gash and trying to be the bridge between the project and those who hold the life of it in their hands... but if you are having a force vision.." The doctor's voice trailed off in thought.


The lack of chatter from the doctor allowed Evek a moment to collect his thoughts but he could not shake the growing fear within. An emptiness that seemed to spread out touching every part of his being.


He shivered again when he noticed the lack of comment from Dr. Shal.


"What is it?" he asked wearily noting the gleam in the other's eye.


"Let's plug the matrix into Ossus's datasphere." Teverek suddenly offered. "Let's give every bit of sensor data from both civilian and military sources to the matrix and let's see what we see?"


"But what good would that do? Predictability is predicated upon having a the greater sphere of data. Data that we would lose ignoring our outside contacts in favor of localized collection methods." Evek objected.


"Now who's being long-winded?" the doctor asked. "I agree with your statement if we are trying to narrow the probabilities of prediction. But forget prediction. The Force is already doing that with YOU! And the Force is never wrong... I mean, we can assume that, yes?"


Dr. Shall continued without letting Evek answer, "So we give the matrix the best, most accurate data collection for Ossus! If something is coming, let it come! Instead of being a device of prediction, it becomes a device of prevention! Reaction! Once whatever is coming comes, the matrix will have all other secondary information gathered up to the minute..."


"Options!" Evek snapped his fingers. "The probability of success with our localized actions becomes easier to calculate..." He then frowned. "But the military will not give us priority..."


"Why not?"


"Why not? The Sith are attacking Naboo..! We are.." and then it snapped.


Teverek smiled slyly as his thoughts were voiced by Evek, "No one knows the Sith are attacking Naboo. Gash Jiren acted based on the conclusions drawn by the matrix but only he can confirm whether it is fact or not. But, we've not heard from him so..."


"Now you are just being an obstructionist," Dr. Shall complained as Jiren's voice trailed.


"No one knows.." whispered Evek to the doctor in shock.


"I must say, this gives me a greater respect for the Jedi. What the Force must show you that us mere mortals who go about our lives oblivious never know.."


Evek nodded absently until a smile stretched across his tired face. "They will give us priority!" he said confidently.


Now, it was Dr. Teverek Shal's turn to frown at the sudden change in his colleague's demeanor.