Fandom Star Wars-Something beyond

“Entering the atmo now Senator. Looks like we have four escort craft guiding us in.”

The pilot of the Coppergrin shot a glace behind him. The Senator was in her full diplomatic wear and made for a darkly elegant but intimidatingly militaristic figure. Red, black and gold with a single exposed shoulder. Sharp green eyes looked down at the ship’s controls as his fingers smoothly moved around the console’s controls. The clouds of Corusant were beginning to part before the Coppergrin’s red and white hull as the piercing durasteel skyscrapers of the city planet below came ever closer towards them.

“Good job. Maybe next time I can fly, ehh?” She slapped his shoulder and walked off from the cockpit; black heels clicking down the narrow passageway.

The pilot gave a small sigh of relief. Senator Sphyrna had a very respected and slightly frightening reputation among the Corellian guard and doubly so for any pilot in the Corellian sector. If she had decided he had done a poor job and fired him, he likely wouldn’t be able to get another repectable career on Corellia or a job flying anywhere within the Core. Not even the smuggling rings would likely take him; it was an open secret that her influence in the underworld was pervasive. All ships and goods that flew to and from Corellia, and the people flying those ship and goods, were damn near under her full control and will.

“Coppergrin you are clear to dock at Senate platform 212. We wish Senator Sphyrna a warm welcome. Let us know if you require anything.”

The pilot of the Consular-class cruiser almost rolled his eyes at the bureaucratic words from the Senate control tower personnel.

“Copy that control tower. Beginning landing.”

He eased the Coppergrin onto the large starship platform next to the Senate building. Despite the heavy air traffic around the Senate building, it was an easy landing. The Senate fighter ships clearing a path and hovering around the Coppergrin even after landing, like buzzing silver bees guarding their queen.

“Welcome to Corusant Coppergrin. Have a pleasant stay.”

---

The Senator of Corellia opened the hatch and walked down the silver ramp as soon as the starship’s powerful engines fell silent and began to cool. The red and black coattails of her diplomat robes trailing behind her as four of her guards hurriedly fell into two flanks on either side of her. Her emerald eyes scanned the open-air docking platform ahead of her; it was a murky day with sickly sunlight falling on the ecumenopolis. The air blew pleasantly though, fluttering the few strands of her black hair that weren’t tied up into her elaborate bun. She smirked behind her thin black face veil at the dock’s scrambling Senate Guards hurryingly falling into formation to create a welcoming flanking path for her entrance into the Senate’s terminal building.

Her walk from ship to building was silent and quick. The meeting was happening soon, and the Senate Guard knew that she had no time for pleasant greetings at the moment. Ten guards from the formation followed and flanked her own personal guard into the building, down an elevator and into a ground terminal tram that sped them into the actual Senate building. She smiled at a few of the older guards that she recognized who smiled silently back, and smirked at the younger guards that were likely new to the position. They looked away hurriedly.

Once they exited the tram and entered the Senate building, she saw the anxiety fueled buzz that hurried the steps of the various Senators, aids and staff of the Senate. She was no Jedi or force-user, but even she could feel the strained nervous energy surrounding the galaxy’s most powerful diplomatic and governmental body. The Senate Guard were the only bedrocks of calm that seemed to be in the building. Her own blue armored guards carved a path for her down the Senate’s corridors. She saw only a few other Senators with nearly as many Senate Guards as her. The Senators from Coruscant, Mon Calamari, and Naboo had perhaps a larger escort than her own.

Once the marching troop and herself arrived at her Senate seat she thanked and dismissed them. Her own original four man guard she had wait just outside her Senate seat chamber. She had no droid, aid, or guard with her. She wanted the other Senators to see her alone. It was statement on her own personal position, philosophy, and stance; and in turn also Corellia’s. Strong, independent, and confident.

Capable of protecting themselves with their own power and influence.

She wanted everyone here to know that even with the current situation that Corellia didn’t need the Republic, the Republic needed Corellia.

Lilya sat down and crossed her legs. The other Senators were abuzz with nervous chatter as everyone waited for the proceedings to begin. She however was silent, resolute, demure. There was no reason to be anything but. Her own and Corellia’s power and position were growing and strengthening. This newest “crisis” was another chance to expand and accelerate that growth.

Leaning back and relaxing her shoulders; Lilya smiled. Unlike most Senate hearings she felt this one would be interesting… and possibly very beneficial if she had a chance to take the lead in the Senate’s worries…

Eriadu City, Eriadu, Morning

(fig. 1, artist render of sh*thole industrial planet)


Morning greets Eriadu like a neon sign greets customers at a tropical bar. Eriadu is an industrial world. Half of it is a jungle filled with angry animals, the other, terraformed in steel and dotted with smokestacks reaching for the stars. Strata of hundreds of years of industry perched carefully on each other, supported by building-sized support pillars doubling as storage or housing, belch all sorts of creative gases from the legion of refineries. As such, when the sun prowls on the horizon the sky lights up like napalm, a thick halo of blood red advances across the sky followed by a heavy orange. Then, a creamy yellow followed by a ring of shimmering green. All of it undulates and wavers through currents of thick smog lingering in the planet's upper atmosphere. Then, blue rushes from the horizon and it all fades to a single wispy cerulean. The temporary rainbow never reached the curved window of a dingy silver junker perched on a deep platform, cheap to rent from some cantina owner. Even without the rude sun reaching this dim, industrial dungeon, Xon sat bolt upright in his slab of a bed in a tiny room located to the starboard side of his space dumpster, looking around excitedly and shaking out a sudden case of the heebee jeebees. Stirred from a dreamless sleep by a restless sensation, the feeling of The Force washing over him in that moment a short time ago, when something new breached the galaxy's shell so improbably, was the source of more than one sleepless night. Apparently over in Coruscant, a bunch of Republic fellows were gathering together to discuss it. It's all over every silly news broadcast on every teeny tiny planet in the galaxy. Even now, he can feel it, like the ringing of the ears after a loud concert or the stinging of skin from a sunburn. He was warmed uncomfortably by the tittering of excitement all around him, all through The Force. As strange as a new star appearing in the night sky, he pondered while peering down at his armor, laying on the floor of that tiny room on some cloth pads. The scratches, dents, and burns in it drew a concerned frown, then a panache-laden smirk. It ought to gain some more by the end of all of this.

Maybe before the kindling of this new star in the sky, he would be caught dead before sedulous. He's fled more diligently than any criminal, after all, enough running to last a lifetime certainly earned him a break of some kind. With a glance at the clock, the number on it read far too early and he winced before sighing a ragged sigh and sliding out of his cot to fasten his armor. It's time to slip away again, to be a ghost once more. He had to go see what the buzz was all about. There was nothing holding him back from it, no responsibilities -- except probably paying that cantina owner the other half of the 'fee.' Bah. So, without any responsibilities holding him back, the only other thing was fear, a thing he hadn't felt for a while. Inevitably, all the time he spent running for his own sake, if he went there, he would meet everyone. Those who wanted to kill him, those who want to kill him because he's affiliated technically with those who want to kill him, and the Kybal want to kill everyone they can't use. The other two are just another galactic bureaucracy, which he considered himself all but immune to. But of all the strange forms he's seen in the galaxy, butt-headed humanoids, six-legged antelopes, slugs the size of tanks, humans -- a completely new civilization or two? Sure there are thousands he could go look at, a few of them might have been to their nearest moon, most of them don't even know there's a whole galaxy out there, but a completely new civilization that actually matters? It's worth a death-duel or two.

By the time he was finished convincing himself for the hundredth time that plunging right into danger for the sake of having a look is worth the trouble, he threw himself into the captain's chair of his hyperspeed trashcan, it spun around slowly as a result of the momentum, just in time to see the wide form of the Rodian cantinero waddling out of his cantina toward him to collect the remainder of his 'docking fee.' He huffed a chuckle and reached over to flip a few switches. His rustbucket wheezed to life with a full-body rumble and belched a cloud of smoke. The landing gear retracted as he pulled a few feet off the ground and the cylindrical atmospheric thrusters lit up yellow. The shining dull-green silhouette of Xon waving to the guy could be seen just before he sailed away smoothly. As it turns out, Rodians DO have middle fingers.

TWO HOURS POST-EGRESS, HYPERSPACE LANE TO DARKKNELL:

(fig. 2 Hydian Way - encircled in black - connecting Eriadu to Darkknell. Naos, far right, just offscreen.)

How does Mechu-deru work? Xon has no idea. Machines don't have midichloreans. Machines don't have brains, minds, they do not awaken to The Force. Nonetheless, when Xon closes his eyes in the center of his cold and dead ship puttering its way through the hyperspace lanes, he breathes in the empty space around him, between him and the metal. It closes in gradually, becoming closer and nearer. The echo of the engine whining in the next room becomes louder as the empty space fills him, and his bones buzz with the noise. Something broke down between him and machines a long time ago. Now, when he reaches out with The Force, they get in the way. They respond, they move with him, dance with his thoughts, sometimes he can hear them. Like electricity to metal, as he meditated, he exhaled and his very own breath conducted throughout the machine. His mind coursed like a signal through the systems, sailing along the circuits, jostling over the spinning turbines pressurizing gas in the cabin. Holding it for a few moments, he became more used to the feeling of the ship, him, rumbling, business as usual -- except for that loose bolt on the landing gear. It's wiggling. And there it goes, careening off through hyperspace. May The Force be with anyone who gets a hyperspeed bolt through their cockpit. He could feel the tingle of signals, communication, though garbled and redshifted to hell by this form of travel, as they passed through the receiver. None of it would be decoded, the signal was filtered out.

From his place in the communications array of the ship, he began to will. To arrange, to grow, to let himself be carried away by emotion and whim -- something no Jedi would dream of doing, and something few Sith are capable of after the first month of their training. What if? What if? What if, was the nearest thing to his thoughts, now esoteric and strange, now descended into the pulsing tide of the universe's imagination, The Force. He bobbed on it, washed to and fro on it, whipping winds of powerful thought brushed past him, snatches of conversation; he learned long ago how to shut those out and 'move' it. With a soft implementation of the same basic approach that all Sith use, though not out of fear, anger, hate, or malice, nor out of benevolent and infinite -- boring calm, more out of curiosity, glee and whim, excitement, his influence and power trembled in the machine and played. Reluctantly, he began to reach out, push through The Force rather than coax it out or succumb to its warbling. Perhaps he would draw some unwanted attention; he would be ready for them. Unmoved by that lingering thought, he pushed further, reaching and stretching toward that new presence, wishing for contact, attention, information, truly anything. He could not fully tell in his meditation what sort of presence it even was, whether it was few or many, only that it is unlike anything he has felt before. Even with the infinite tube of blue encasing his ship, doggedly destroying any signals trying to breach the sheer speed of it, he was engaged in mechu-deru, and his ship began to respond on its own to his efforts. The Force does not travel at merely light speed. Deep in the transmitter, a strange resonance blinked back, he could feel it tickling his brain. It began some sort of automatic interplay with the receiver. A confluence of will and meditation buzzed, generating an entirely novel sensation which jolted him out of his concentration. It distracted him utterly from his efforts to make contact and an audible zapping from behind him in the cockpit stirred him finally from meditating.

With worry written on his face, he pushed himself from the ground and jogged into the cockpit to find the small green panel, the interface in the ship for communications, blinking unsteadily, unfamiliar symbols flashed on the screen addled with artifacting. Even he could see that it was incomplete. He reached over and slapped a button. His ship veered mildly and the infinite tube of blue light encasing his ship slowed and stilled into a sea of stars coalesing from stretched lines to points in the matter of a moment. It was then that the symbols began tracing themselves across the screen stably, but it was all still gibberish to him. They seemed to be composed of all kinds of characters from any and every language in his ship's database. He sat down and began pushing buttons, to find that for some reason his console had begun displaying some kind of datastream. Bewildered, he closed that view and began running whatever automatic parsing tool his ship had; he's been so far removed from programming that any attempt of his to decode this thing on his own would surely fail, mechu-deru or no. Miraculously, the ship did end up detecting a nonstandard filetype, the patterns in the file's data were apparently close enough to some other format, and he squinted at a set of travel vectors. There were no end coordinates, and they seemed to begin from his location. Understanding dawned on him and, overtaken with vertigo, he sighed heavily through pursed lips and sank into his chair, armor clanking together where its panels bunched up at his back and began pinching his skin. He could hardly bring himself to care. Apparently The Force is good with computers. After a moment to confirm that the vectors made any sense, and they did seem to correspond loosely to the general location of a known planet. In a daze, he punched a couple of buttons and sailed back into hyperspace, pondering his existence.

Imperial Task Force 58



The cosmic abyss of countless dots of starlights outside the trapezium bridge viewports could easily encase a person in an overwhelming sense of infiniteness.

The bridge of Endeavour, an Imperial-II class Star Destroyer had a clear view of the interstellar space outside. In the radiant starlights and varicoloured distant nebulas, the dark patches are the dense dust clouds in an inner spiral arm of the local galaxy; such clouds can block view of stars toward the centre.

The lighting in the bridge keeps the interior in a dimly somber, it’s a necessity for the bridge crew, not only to gain a better view outside, but also for them to better retain their valuable night sight in their service among the vast darkness of outer space.

A myriad of screens, consoles, computers and communication devices are arranged in a geometric pattern in the crew pits situated on either side of an elevated platform that bissected the bridge, in which bridge officers would move around in a way that resembles a school of fish swimming in a current.

The electronic smell emanating from the machinery mixed with the recycled oxygen created the scent most familiar to starship operators.

Outside the bridge's window, the fleet began to emerge from hyperspace. Triangular starships varied in size, the largest one, second only to this Imperial class flagship, is an Interdictor class heavy cruiser. It's silvery metallic surface, spanning over 1,129 meters in length, is covered with intricate patterns, like an infinitely wide etched circuit board, and the space dust brought by the hyperspace jump is ionised into a cloud of dark red mist over her hull, glittering around the four spherical gravity well projectors.

One by one these starships form a neat defensive fleet formation. Pure, dazzling silver elements set against the eternal dark wall of the cosmos, the fleet floats solemnly among the stars, their sublight ion engines activated simultaneously, surrounding the flagship with several dozens blue suns.

After consuming energies so enormous that entire star systems, throughout their history, could not expend as much, the Imperial fleet has made a leap through time and space--a routine operation carried out by one of the most powerful military forces in the Galaxy, which is also but a shadow of it's former self.

The public address system can be heard with the voice of the boatswain being broadcast across the Endeavour:

"Hyperspace sequence complete. Set condition 3, secure from hyperspace station. Set condition 3."

"Lay before the mast all eight o'clock reports. Eight o'clock reports will be taken by the Executive Officer in the Executive Officer's stateroom..."

To an Imperial officer, this experience is just another day in the office.

"New reconnaissance report, Admiral." the OOD (officer of the deck) straightened up his body and approached the commander of this fleet who is standing in front of the bridge viewport. "Our second probe droid send these images back from Naos system. The unknown new arrivals had their capital ship landed onto Naos III, their other fleets and battalions are in mobilisations. The probe was destroyed shortly afterwards."

"Continue to tape and monitor all transmission from Naos system. Upload the them through our datalink, see if they can get some linguist to analyse their language." Rear Admiral Emilia Hohenjäger turn around and said to the officer "Get more droids out, I want a closer look on all hyperpace, realspace and planet surface contacts within 12 parsecs of Naos."

Emilia is a tall blonde woman, she had her hands relaxed behind her back, and her womanly curves fill her double-breasted tunic uniform superbly. Her pairs of crimson red eyes carry a smile that hid whatever calculation she is having behind them. The Rear Admiral then turn to the Captain of this Star Destroyer. "Skipper, I want some TIE Recon and a medium strike force to be put on 30 minutes alert."

She gave the instructions she had in mind, before turning back to gaze at the vast sea of stars. A vast expanse, with endless possibilities, and an endless darkness that hides them all.

The war between the Empire and the Republic had been going on for so long, bloods that had been spill are enough to cover the ocean of a thousand planets. Yet, Emilia doubts whether the Galaxy would be prepared to fight a threat from without. It is highly likely that an extragalactic alien civilisations would have completely different logic of thought, standards of judgement, with very different principles. Their 'good intentions' are not necessarily good, and their 'bad intentions' are not necessarily harmful, what if they regard devouring the life of a friend as a virtue, and a friendly greeting as a declaration of war? It is impossible to say for certain.

Emilia had learn from old records the existence of an extragalactic species called Yuuzhan Vong, the Far Outsiders as the Chiss called them. War and conquest are ingrained in every line of code in their gene, which are the ultimate goal of their existence. Of course, so far the actions of these new arrivals doesn't match the archive, but......who's to say they would not be so different.

Dilapidated Corridor, Coruscant Underworld

Fenris hadn't meant for the situation to turn out this way. However that didnt seem to mean much to the Rodian with a blaster ready to put a hole or two in him. It was supposed to have been a simple job. The droid at the bounty office had given him a simple task. He was just grabbing a Rodian who was behind on payments for a new speeder. The target was part of a gang but was supposed to just be their data-rat. Yet the moment he made eye contact with Fenris, the guy had bolted like an Acklay was on his ass. Their chase had taken Fenris through the underbelly of Coruscant. Despite all the shiny buildings and fancy clothes up top. Down here it smelt of oil, exhaust fumes and death. Which is why it sucked that Fenris had to run a gauntlet through all that just to make sure he didn't lose his target. Bumping into a Basilisk who seemed ready to tear him a new one. Fenris somersaulted over the guy and continued to follow the Rodian. It was times like this that made him regret ever taking up this line of work. Most of the time it was back-breaking work for negligible pay. He thought the high population count on Coruscant would mean better jobs. Instead he just got a steady supply of shit jobs with even more shit pay.

Finally catching up to his quarry in what appeared to be a rundown series of shut up apartments. Fenris was met with the business end of a blaster pistol. "I ain't gotta clue what you've got on me... but you'll drop it if you know whats good for you" said the Rodian in his native tongue. His gun looked old, probably hadn't been used in a while. Regardless it could do some serious damage if the bastard got a good shot in. "You just need to come into the bounty office to pay off the payments on your new ride" replied Fenris, careful with his words. The Rodian didn't seem to like the term Bounty Office. "Alternative. How's about I pull the trigger and we end things here?" answered the Rodian. Fenris tilted his head diagonally to suggest that such an action wouldn't be the best idea. The Rodian pulled the trigger anyway, a burst of blue light firing out. Although the speed of a blaster bolt was difficult to notice with the naked eye. Fenris had an inkling of what his prey might try. So he had managed to move out of the way just in time. The Rodian stared at Fenris with his bulbous blue eyes. Fenris dusted off his clothes and smiled at the guy. "My turn" said the bounty hunter as he drew one of his pistols. With astonishing speed, he placed a shot through the Rodian's head. As his target lay dead on the ground. Fenris lamented the inevitable pay cut for killing his target.

Noticing a vagrant sitting against a nearby wall. Fenris guessed the shabby looking dude had seen his fair share of back alley gunfights. So the sight of someone getting shot near him was probably just a common occurrence for him. Crouching down and grabbing the few credits he could scavenge from the dead Rodian. Fenris chucked them over to the grubby man. "No Death Sticks" warned the bounty hunter as he proceeded to contact the droid back at the office...

Somewhere in the Western Reaches...


The Starship approached the fleet with little fanfare, despite being the single thing keeping them in that particular sector. Comprised of multiple Star Destroyers and Heavy cruisers with smaller corvettes hidden behind the bulk of the larger ships, the sight of such a small, seemingly insignifcant vessel approaching all on its own might have even been humorous to the less aware. But the Imperials on board knew better, had been biding their time for the moment that particular ship came.

Yet protocol was protocol, so as the starship approached it was hailed by an officer aboard the Capital ship.

"Approaching Starship, please provide your Operating Serial before entering close-perimeter distance." the officer asked, prompting the single occupant of the starship to recite a long string of numbers.

When it was finished, the line went silent as the Starship came to a halt. Several seconds later it was given the all clear and allowed to finish its approach to the capital ship.

Aboard the Imperator's hangar, multiple technicians and soldiers were moving about, preparing squadrons of TIE Fighters for what was to come. Amidst it all, the Admiral of the fleet stood watching the Starship finish docking with another Officer at his stead.

"Are you certain its-?" the officer asked, but the Admiral held up his hand before she could continue.

"Yes." was all he stated before folding his arms behind his back as the starship's ramp descended towards them.

Emerging from it was but a single droid, but a model unique to only one person in the entirety of known space. Standing a foot taller than any average man and with a red piercing glow emanating from its opticals, it still wouldn't have cut such an imposing stance had it not been so recognizable. Not even the Lightsaber hilted at its side would've struck such caution in Imperials as weathered as the Admiral and his subordinates. No, beyond all those was the simple fact that standing before them was a Saber Drone.

One of the Emperor's personal servants.

It descended the ramp from its starship with a mechanical fluidity one wouldn't expect from an 'Aide', but most imperials knew that referring to them by their official label was an almost tragically laughable understatement. Unlike the protocol droids or even most maintenance bots, the Emperor seemed keen to have his 'Aides' be well versed in numerous styles of Lightsaber combat with the armor, training and combat potential of a full-on siege weapon. And while any worthy Imperial of high rank would undoubtedly have the resources to defeat such a foe, they would also be fully aware of the losses they'd have to incur to do so.

Thankfully, it was not here to test their might, rather to offer direction if the previous messages sent their way were anything to be believed.

The Drone paused before the two, its opticals going from one to the other before settling on the Admiral, "Proceed, Admiral Torson."

At the simple order the Admiral nodded to the Officer before turning and following the Drone to the Turbolift. The Officer proceeded to pull out her Holo-communicator and hail the Bridge. Moments later the message was relayed to the other vessels which began to form up. Soon enough, the larger vessels had jumped into hyperspace, leaving the Corvettes behind. It was as had been rumored. Despite the shifting in the force that had led so many other arms of the Imperials Hands' Navy to be redistributed, they would continue on their previous mission.

"But what of the Extragalactic forces?" Admiral Torson asked as he and Drone made their way back to the bridge "From the way command had been speaking it almost sounded as though half the entire Navy would be deployed there."

"More level heads prevailed." The Saber Drone stated "Such reactionary intent is more befitting of the Republic. We shall not sacrifice the intent of such operations for the sake of an unknown factor."

"So we shall allow the Senate to get their claws in first?" Torson raised an eyebrow, only to look ahead once the Saber Drone turned its gaze on him.

"The Rear Admiral has been dispatched to take stock of the situation, and her reinforcements have been marshalled should she need them." the Saber Drone stared at Torson, leaning closer after a moment "Do not allow yourself to be distracted from your mission, Admiral. The Emperor is not keen to ignore the scenario, but unlike you and so many others, he's unwilling to let his vision be focused on it solely. So allow more capable hands to worry for the distribution of his armadas, and focus on your role to play in the Endeavors of the Imperials Hands."

With the Saber Drone practically hovering over his shoulder, Admiral Torson nodded, "Of course."

"Of course..." the Saber Drone repeated as the doors to the Bridge slid open before them.

Before them numerous technicians and Officers were working at their terminals, one of which saluted the Admiral as he and the Saber Drone made for the front of the bridge. The other Imperials on board did their best not to look to closely at the Saber Drone as it kept behind Admiral Torson, for the Presence of one could only indicate that the Emperor himself had a vested interest in their mission.

"The Approach to the Sollust System is undeterred, we have approximately half an hour, Admiral." the Officer that had saluted relayed before stepping off to his post.

Nodding, Torson looked out of the viewport as the glowing stream of Hyperspace passed along them, untold distance passing by in a fraction of what it would take in normalized time. With their approach solidified, Torson turned back and looked over the Bridge before stepping aside and activating the Comm Unit.

"Strike Forces must be prepared to depart as soon as we exit Hyperspace. The Probes sent to investigate the Ship Yards may not have lasted long, but indications of fierce Droid resistance are practically guaranteed." He stated, "Twenty-Seven minutes to exit and counting."

Stepping back to the front of the Bridge, Admiral Torson swallowed dryly as he glanced to the Saber Drone. It hadn't moved, remained at the forefront of bridge with its focus seemingly locked onto the viewport before them.

"Ask your question, Admiral Torso." it stated without moving , prompting the Admiral to close his eyes for a moment.

"Do you hold doubts over this mission?" the Saber Drone asked.

"With all due respect, the force the Metal Bones Clan had when taking Mustafar indicate they'd been building forces long before they emerged." Torson began, "The numbers they attacked Endor with were before reports of them activating Sullust's Ship Yards. Forgive me for believing greater reconnaissance is necessary for any significant push to be made."

"You said it yourself fleshling." the Saber Drone stated as the passing light of Hyperspace reflected off its chassis "The Clan is exceptionally focused on denying efforts of surveillance. The very reports your mention are what motivated this effort, allowing them to continue cultivating numbers at such scale is unfeasible."

"But to do so without full knowledge of their abilities-" Torson turned on the Drone

"A luxury we have been denied too long." It stated as its glaring red gaze turned on Torson "Make no mistake, Admiral, this push on enemy forces shall double as reconnaissance. A proper surveying of their defenses must be made no matter the risk it poses. We will push with all we can spare at the moment."

"Then what of the Recon Forces?" Torson asked "If the Probes were unable to venture far on their missions, then the idea of those Corvettes making it through the defenses those droids mustered is."

"A three-fold manuever, Admiral." the Saber Drone turned its gaze back towards the Viewport "You must offer those teams the chance to slip through undetected, so be sure to hit hard on the first run. We want all of the Clan's forces focused on us."

Frowning deeply, Torson took a deep breath before turning back to the viewport and carefully folding his arms behind his back. With their mission drawing ever closer, he steeled himself for the role he would have to play coordinating the inevitable battle they were about to engage in. The desire to hamper the Metal Bones Clan's ability to make use of Sullust's shipyard had been a pressing concern for the Imperial Hands ever since they had emerged. Whether it was the Emperor's desire to take the Shipyard's capabilities for himself or the rest of the Imperial Hands being unwilling to have another foe with such manufacturing capabilities, the same conclusion was reached.

But the emergence of whatever was occuring on Naos had almost convinced Torson they would prioritize them over the droids. It was apparent that he was mistaken. If the Presence of one of the Emperor's Saber Drones wasn't enough of an indicator, then the Emperor himself saw the disruption of Sullust as a high priority still.

But Torson couldn't but wonder if the Rear Admiral's capabilities would be enough to hold off whatever new force was gathering on Naos. Even with the promise of reinforcements, anything that could impact so many force sensitives at once couldn't be written off.

Such questions were not his to ask, however, so he tried to focus on the only task which mattered to him at the moment. Whether it be to offer the smaller recon forces a chance to make it planet-side, to break through and take the facilities themselves, or to merely take stock of the foe's presence; He and his fleet would have to hit the Clan as hard as possible.

And as the time drew ever closer, he found himself suppressing those other concerns, burying under years of strict doctrine and ambition as the seconds in Hyperspace trickled to none.

So when the Seventh Fleet of the Imperial Hands emerged from Hyperspace in the Sullust Sector, they came ready to destroy anything and everything the Metal Bones Clan threw their way.

Lilya’s emerald eyes scanned the Senate Chambers in a lazy drift as the Senate’s meeting was starting. Jedi lined the entrances as they often liked to do. Privately it was a “voluntary guard” that many Senators didn’t fully approve but knew they had to accept. They were like silent, powerful statues of judgment and authority. Rarely did they intervene in any Senate business, but it certainly felt like they could if they really wanted to.

Balancing the power (both physically and politically) that the Jedi had on the Senate was a delicate issue that consumed more of a Senator’s time than any would admit. It was one of the reasons why the Senate always maintained some form of anti-Jedi sentiment in the populace. Contradictory it was equally a delicate matter maintaining the Jedi in the Order and not losing all of them to the Sages. So far things had balanced out to an acceptable level between the Senate, Order, and Sages. It required careful applications of influence though and making sure the Jedi in the Order had a reason for remaining in the Republic.

Hence, they were “encouraged” to be a part of any and all Senate meetings, no matter how important or mundane, boring or even more boring. Any Jedi was allowed to speak and offer their opinions and recommendations, no matter their rank. Lilya could count one hand how many times a Jedi how spoken during a Senate meeting however. She expected at least one to speak during this meeting, but a Jedi’s actions were usually hard to predict when it wasnt a matter regarding clear good and evil. Even with the ones she was “close” with; she wouldn’t take a bet on most of their actions unless morality was involved.

As Lilya casually eyed the various Jedi within the chambers and giving a quick smile to several that she recognized, the meeting began. The Corusanti Senator took her center spot and began her address. Flowery and a spectacle of words flowed from the elder woman as was her norm. Despite the fluff, Lilya could respect that the older Senator got to the point quickly. A vote deciding a delegate to the galaxy’s newcomers. There were really only two choices: herself or the Corusanti Senator.

Once the discussions and voting had ended she had been chosen. It was a practical choice and one that she was more than happy to accept. Hopefully the newcomers had a concept of peaceful diplomacy. She would need to pull on some contacts and prepare for the mission; it would likely be the most important and public of her career. But first she had an acceptance speech to make.

“Thank you, my fellow Senators and our Jedi friends, for allowing me to represent the Republic. It is impossible for a single person to represent even a fraction of the beauty, grandness, diversity, and unified strength of the Republic; however, if I can convey even a single spark of the thousands of burning stars that give life to our worlds; I will have succeeded. No matter the outcome. I wish to offer the Republic’s benevolence and kindness to our new neighbors and warn them of the galaxy’s threats that are grand armies, vigilant fleets, and steadfast soldiers fight against for the continuity of democracy and peace. Our new neighbors will be welcomed with an opened hand of comradeship by myself. I trust that I and all of Corellia will have the full support of this Senate and the Jedi Order, in this most important mission of diplomacy that the galaxy has ever seen.”

Lilya sat down after her speech. Short by a Senator’s standards, but she had given her warnings to all who were wise enough to listen…

The meeting continued and soon ended. Lilya left her Senator pod as soon as the meeting ended. She had several preparations to make and little time. Several different Senators and Jedi she would need to talk to. Ideally, she would have several different systems' star fleets in Corellia space. She wanted her system to be the center of military might until she had succeeded in negotiations or failed.

Additionally, she wanted an influx of Jedi on Corellia, its moons, and on her ship. If there was anytime to ask for repayment from the various Jedi she had helped and befriended over the years; this was the time…

Lilya quickly walked to-and-fro from Senator, to Jedi, to Senator, to Jedi within the Senate halls. Her steps quick and purposeful, but always calm and confident.

"Coruscant was on fire today with all of the bustle and hustle around the newcomers in the Naos system. Senator Lilya Sphyrna was named head of the Senate delegation tasked with establishing contact with the new presence in our galaxy in one of the most succint senate convenings on record, ranked number fifty-eighth at four hours, sixteen minutes and twelve seconds. Details of the plan have not been publically released but it is expected that . . .

Click to expand...

Xon's eyes roamed unfocused over the scene behind him, the murmur of a holographic newscast projecting from the corner of a nearby stall fading away behind the sounds of hissing emitted from some other machine. Crates of technology and supplies being haggled over, workers crowding a table and talking seriously, vendors at stalls and others standing about, minding their own business, an inconsequential bustle was taking place around him. This little warehouse shack in Enarc gave him a cozy feeling. The agricultural planet's clean air was easy to breathe for him and it's replacable by a hundred others. That means low poplation, low interest, and most importantly, low prices. After his little stint on a deserted jungle planet, he never thought he'd miss dirt. Halfway off of a short rusted stool, mismatched with the others around it, in front of a tired old stall manned by a droid, Xon crossed his lower arms over the bar and used one of the uppers to cradle his chin. With the last arm, he pushed a credits-card (lol) toward the droid and swept up a case of utterly tasteless nutrients and a gently glowing metal canister of some kind of food, to-go. The food would be dinner and the nutient cubes would keep until the heat-death of the universe. The Triellus Run is closer to civilized than he wanted but Naos is off the end of the Corellian Run.

The probability that he gets shaken down by a Republic vessel is growing. The probability of running into an ISL hunter slipping through every crack in society there is, also growing. Absently, he thanked the droid and collected his change. A tinny "thank you for shopping at . . ." faded to nothing beind him in his progress out of the little covered market and back to his hunk of junk. A few hitchless takeoff vectors later, he jostled out of the atmosphere and made his way back onto Triellus, whispering nervously to himself, "on to Llanic..."

As the Elderrock fell out of hyperspace the sith master Darth Siberious sat on his commander's chair in the center of the room, looking out to the planet below him with a small grin plastered onto his pink skin. The nautolan sat with his head resting against his fist, looking as if he was completely bored whilst his crew members worked in utter silence from the horrendous waves of fear that seeped from him unconsciously. This power alone is what made Siberious such a feared and respected sith master, making the inhabitants of any planet he visits cower in fear before submitting themselves to be in his service. This was how Siberious kept his many subordinates in check, especially the force-sensitive crew members. the only thing stronger than this force ability is his skills with a saber but both combined would spell death for any who dared to move against him.

”We have arrived Sir” a young crew member who visibly shook with fear, stood in front of Siberious with his eyes firmly rooted to the floor “good” The word came out as a raspy groan and the boy shrunk back in fear. He stood to his feet, towering over the boy with that same shark-toothed grin that stretched his entire face. “The Sanctuary Moon, how fitting” As Siberious stepped down from his elevated seat, the boy fell backward making the sith master sneer in disgust. Without a second thought, his long fingernails pointed towards the boy and he was yanked off the ground by a unseen pull. The boy now hung suspended in the air, grasping at his neck while struggling to breath. Siberious walked towards the viewing window where he could look down on the forest moon of Endor with the boy gasping for oxygen following whilst suspended in mid-air

”Seven long years” he growled, his hand closing into a fist which caused the boys neck to snap with a sickening crunch “can’t you feel his power” the sith let out a cackle that seem to form in the pit of his stomach before erupting like a long-dormant volcano. The now-dead lieutenant floated alongside sibierious as he took great strides towards his chair which housed his cloak and lightsabers before releasing his grip on the boy through the force causing him to fall into a group of droids that tumbled over because of the dead weight. He picked up his cloak and threw it around him, and as the cloak laid against his body his lightsabers seemingly jerked on their own before flying to his hip.

“Launch him into the void and prepare my ship” without another word, Siberious turned on his heels and walked into the elevator, a massive sigh of relief emanating from the entire room.

As the sith lord glided down the corridor, he couldn’t help but to fall into his madness or contain the excitement that presented itself in a toothy grin with his pitch-black eyes wide with enthusiasm. An imperial droid greeted Siberious as he walked into the hangar

“Starskipper has been prepared sir” the droid spoke but Siberious simply ignored him and jumped into the air, landing in the cockpit with ease. “ST-03 open launch bay 1” the droid nodded in response before pressing a few buttons on his keypad. The ray shield dissipated and Siberious immediately forced the throttle forward whcih in turn forced the engine to life and propeled the Starskipper forward into the blackness of space.

-Radio Channel 1- "ST-03 keep an eye out for other ships" "Roger sir"

As Siberious landed his ship on a flora covered landing pad, he jumped out of this ship and landed with a small thud. He could feel the presence of his master but now the presence of the jedi sent a tingle through his salmon colored skin. With his signature grin, he set off into the deep foilage and his smile grew wider when the presence of the jedi grew strong enough to the point where he could taste the lightside of the force on his tongue like a flavor that has been eternally burned into his mouth. Siberious knew the lightside of the force well and was once a jedi knight who made a name for himself through his dueling skills. His embracing of the darkside came as a shock for most, devestating the temple while siberious painted the halls red with the blood of his padawan. Nanploo was the sith master who found the once Kaen Tsta alone on mustafar with his blood soaked sabers and groomed him into the ruthless sith lord he was today, dawning the name Darth Siberious and inflincting fear on those who are unfortunate enough to be plauged with his presence.

As he ducked under a massive leaf, Siberious could sense his master directly infront of him and immediatly dropped to his knees with his lightsabers on the ground infront of him. "My master" he started, his voice quivering with excitment "It has been seven years since you've last had use for me" the sith lord bowed his head deeper, the shark toothed grin growing by the second. "Please tell me how we shall purify this world."

Coruscant : Jedi Temple Council Chambers

All eyes fell upon the single Holotransmitter as everyone watched and listened. It was finally happening.. The Senate meeting that could very well change the course of the Galaxy. Each and every member of the Jedi Council was watching, whether they were actually in the High Council Chamber or watching via their own Transmitter each and everyone of them waited listening. When an elderly woman, the Senator of Coruscant took her spot at the central pod, one particular figure leaned forward in their chair hands clasped under their chin.
Grandmaster Cadeus listened intently.

"“My fellow servants of the people I am sure many of you have heard the fire news that even now spreads through the galaxy like wildfire. These extragalactic visitors have half the galaxy arming up claiming the return of the Vong and the other half gearing up ships thinking the hyperspace anomalies have finally ended. Whatever the case may be the people of the galaxy need answers and we intend to give them some. We have a proposition to select a delegate to attempt to make diplomatic ties with these visitors on behalf of the entire republic, a vote will be taken by the senate. Afterwards we will discuss the Growing threat of the Droids and potential solutions to the growing criminal element. The problem of the Imperial remnants and Sith will continue to be handled by the Republicus Grand Moff and the Jedi council of the temple… I now submit the floor to our first order of business, please cast your votes for the republics representative.”"

It did not come as a surprise that the Senate voted for the Corellian senator Lilya Sphyrna. The most practical and logical choice. The Senator with the most power and resources was of course the most obvious choice. When the time came for her to speak Cadeus glanced at the other members within the room watching them all. Leaning back into his seat when her speech was over the attending Council member at the Senate building spoke.

"Well then, it seems the Senate have made their choice.."

"Indeed.. and with that in mind we need to make ours."


"I think myself and Master Kreenel should go. We have the most experience in diplomatic relations do we not?"

"It's not all about diplomacy Kreeva. This is an entirely unknown concept we are dealing with. People from outside our Galaxy.. Ones that seem to be connected to The Force. You remember the Vong and what happened there do you not?

"Of course I do. Which is why we would not be going alone.."

The conversation flowed as the Council tried to decide on who to send. Senator Lilya would most likely want a small army of Jedi with her and for good reason..

Undoubtedly these new visitors had garnered the attention of The Sith as well.. The last thing the Republic needed was for them to get there first and potentially ally and corrupt them.

"What say you hmm? Quiet on the matter you have been Grandmaster"

Cadeus turned his head to look to his right and then nodded slowly before speaking standing up slowly.


“We live to serve the people of this galaxy, we live to protect them and to heal them from those that threaten them.
While some Jedi believe that we exist as a sword to cut through the Sith, that is not the truth of our order. First and foremost we are Peacekeepers.
We serve Republic as a whole as keepers of the peace and guardians of justice. We exist as both the last bastion of conscience and the last sword to defend the galaxy.
We exist to serve the Republic, the Alliance, and Democracy itself.

However with that said..."

He sighed clasping his hands behind his back and walking over to a window looking down the city below.

"We are not the Senate, we are not politicians or senators. Our role is a delicate one. One of which we must learn from...
Looking at the past and what happened during the Clone Wars.. we simply cannot allow something like that to happen once again." He turned around and looked at the Council before him.
"In these dark and troubling times we must trust in ourselves, each other and of course The Force to guide us to the right path. I agree that Master Kreenel and Master Kreeva should go.
However I think that I shall also attend. This is a crucial turning point in our history. We know how COMPOR went... if a war should come like that then we need to make sure that we not seen as warmongers by the public. We need to make sure we are more engaged with the populace this time around. That is why I personally shall accompany the Senator on this mission if she will take my assistance."

As the bridge became alight with activity, Admiral Torson found himself standing still amid the frenzied responses of his crew. Already squadrons were pouring from the Star Destroyers in order to make use of what little element of surprise they might have, with orders being called out to attack the nearest enemy vessels they had gotten a read on.

But that was simply the normal reaction, as they'd had little to go on for what the droids fielded on Sullest. They had prepared for a worst case scenario, for the droids to have a bulwark of freshly minted vessels waiting to annihilate anything that drew near. Torson had made peace with what could very well be his last day alive, prepared to hold steady and give the smaller fleet of cruisers that would soon arrive the largest chance possible to slip through enemy defenses.

What the Fleet came across instead was a wild response from an enemy force that, while dangerous, was nowhere near the might they had prepped for. The drones had scrambled their own starships in a haphazard manner, their formations quick and vitriolic yet lack the tact of a rigid defense. As the first reports came in sizing up the planetary defenses, it took only moments for every imperial stationed aboard the fleet to realize they hadn't been given a complete death sentence.

If anything, the favor was most definitely theirs.

And so, Torson narrowed his gaze and drew upon years of experience to fully make use of the opportunity given to them.

"Concentrate fire on those Lucrehulks while the squadrons keep those fighters at bay, we mustn't allow them to even attempt to enter a defensive position." he stated

"Sir, signs of external forces emerging from the shipyards."

"Focus on the Lucrehulks first, we must take clear the way and enter defensive lines before their reinforcements offer them relief."

The space between the Lucrehulks and the fleet became alight with battle as Tie Fighters and Droid fighters contested, but with the Star Destroyers already focusing their firepower on the opposing force, Torson freed himself to check on other matters.

"Status of the recon fleet?" he asked a pair of technicians.

"Two minutes out and counting." was the reply from one.

He approached another station, "Enemy reinforcements?"

"Fighters from the shipyards and battleships stationed elsewhere already en route." the technician manning the helm stated before leaning back and looking up at the Admiral "But sir, there's more readings."

"Of?"

"The number of ships here." another helmsman continued with a bead of sweat making its way down the side of his face "They've got an entire navy's worth of battleships in wait down there."

"Active?" Torson asked, only to receive nothing as the Helmsman stared at the readings with blatant fear forming in his expression.

Torson's gloved hand reached and took hold of the Helmsman before slamming him against the display, "Are they active?"

When the Helmsman shook his head, Admiral Torson released him and returned to the front of the bridge, "Then the droids remain the primary threat. Once the current forces are neutralized, have TIE Interceptor Squadron's twelve and seven prepare to engage reinforcements from the shipyards. If we time it correctly, the recon fleet should have an easy chance to make it through and-"

"The shipyards must be neutralized." The Saber Drone finally spoke up, bringing the Admiral's speech to a halt.

"Excuse me?"

"Once the current battleships have been neutralized you will turn all heavy weaponry aboard this fleet on the shipyards itself and enact an orbital bombardment until the reinforcing Battleships enter hazardous range." The Saber Drone stated

"What?!?" Torson shook his head "But we have a chance to infiltrate the shipyards and form a perimeter. If we manage to hold out we can gain intel, withstand the assault and get saboteurs on the ground in one fell swoop!"

"If the inferior models are able to overwhelm you before then, all those goals become meaningless." the Saber Drone turned to the Admiral "With defenses this lackluster, the inferior models have offered a golden opportunity to remove the threat of the Shipyards."

"Forgive my mistake, but I was under the impression we were to prime the Sullest System for a full takeover." Torson growled.

"Depending on the results of your reconnaissance, yes." the Saber Drone turned back and pointed to the planet "But what we found instead was the Inferior Models on the cusp of creating a fleet of epic proportions, something the Emperor will not allow."

"But if we were to claim it."

"We shall recover what remains when the inferior models are unable to field fleets of such scale." the Saber Drone turned to Admiral Torson "Give the order, Admiral."

Gritting his teeth for but a moment, Torson remembered his place and nodded before turning to another Helmsman, "Have all vessels begin formation for Orbital Bombardment, target is confirmed as the shipyards themselves. Saturate and disable before they get too many ships off the ground!"

Coruscant Underworld

The taste of alcohol and blue-milk pancakes wasn't enough to wash the bitter taste of defeat from Fenris' mouth. He'd only gotten half of what he'd been promised for killing that Rodian. That stupid droid didn't seem to care that Fenris himself had only been acting in self defense. His quarry had died and he'd been paid terribly. If he didn't find some better paying bounties soon. He'd never be able to build up a solid rep. Although he didn't care about reputation. The consistent flow of work was what he was after. Just as he was about to ask the bartender for more pancakes. He felt something strange in the atmosphere. Looking over to his left. Fenris saw a pair of robed figures enter the establishment. While guys covering their faces wasn't out of place in this corner of the planet. It was the familiar glint of metal on their belts that made Fenris on edge. A couple of other patrons seemed to share his apprehension. "Shit... Jedi Peacekeepers" said the Nautolan barkeep. Jedi were some of the last people that Fenris needed to see right now.

The younger of the pair continued to scan the area whilst the older one moved over to the bar. Although they wore hoods to cover their faces. Fenris had been able to tell the Padawan from his excitement, the way his hand hovered over his saber. His master on the other hand carried herself with much more grace and maturity. Downing his drink and continuing to eat his pancakes. Fenris did his best to act as normal as possible. He didn't need to kick up a fuss with the person carrying a lightsaber. The Jedi began exchanging pleasantries with the barkeep. She was surprisingly good at holding a conversation despite being in a bar surrounded by scum and villainy. Paying for his food and getting up. Fenris exited the building as quickly as a non-suspicious walk could get him. He hoped that if he was able to lose them in the hustle and bustle. They wouldn't be able find him. Why he believed they were looking for him was up in the air. However he wasn't about to find out. Ducking into a nearby transport and sitting down. Fenris tried to shake off his fear. Giving in to his fear would lead to anger. Anger would provide him nothing right now. Getting out at the next stop and grabbing on the the underside of a passing speeder. Fenris soared above the heads of the unsuspecting crowds. He then leapt off onto a nearby balcony, where a pair of Twi'lek dancers were entertaining people. Somersaulting onto a pipe located on the building across from him. Fenris slid all the way down into a back alley.

Just as he thought he was in the clear. He heard the distinct hiss of a lightsaber. Blue light illuminated the alley as the smaller of the two hooded figures stood before him. The apprentice discarded his robe to reveal a young Mon Calamari. The guy didn't seem to be any older than Fenris was. He began charging at Fenris in a stance that Fenris knew all too well. Pulling out his blasters and firing at the Padawan. The young jedi easily deflected the blaster bolts with his Soresu. However what he didn't seem to know was that Fenris' blasts tended to ricochet. They bounced back at the Padawan, who blocked them again. This allowed Fenris to slide under the legs of his foe. Even if the guy was only a Jedi Padawan. He was training under a Jedi Guardian, who were known for their martial prowess. As Fenris was about to lay into the Mon Calamari with another round of blasts. His blasters were pulled from his hands with nary a breath by the Jedi Padawan using the Force. Forced to duck and dodge the blade of the lightsaber trying to cut him. Fenris began to feel the pressure of having to outdo a Force User. Eventually he had no choice but to reach for something he hadn't wanted to use. Grabbing something from the back of his belt. Fenris produced a familiar cylindrical weapon.

Igniting his own lightsaber with an uneasy hand. The amber blade illuminated his face...

Imperial Task Force 58



Contrary to the prestigious position as the flag officer having the star destroyer as flag ship, admiral's stateroom are essentially just a bedroom with a large comfy bed and a head (lavatory), up on the command tower with the flag bridge a level above the main deck. Near the cabin is the flag office, nice and spacious with a sitting room area, with leather sofa, wooden desk, it's own kitchen and a very fancy dining area, complete with pink fluffy curtains and matching paint in the room. But Rear Admiral Emilia rarely use the big office, as these spaces were there primarily for the purpose of entertaining and hosting dignitaries.

Emilia came into her stateroom, what stand out compare to normal stateroom is that there's a maintenance machine in place.


(Something like this, the closest pic I can find to what I had in mind)

It’s mechanical arms revealed her body underneath--with deformed internal organs and artificial tissues pulsate slowly in a pale pink life-sustaining liquid solution.

These biomechatronic body parts had kept her survive for years, and will continue to do so as long as her brain survive, theoretically allows her to live longer than any ordinary human could.

She looks out the transparisteel window of her cabin. The Arquitens class light cruiser “Pearl” is floating in a fixed relative position to the Endeavour. Set against the massive universe, it looked as if the Imperial fleet is stationary in place, although they are cruising at sub-lightspeed, covering hundreds thousands of kilometres in a matter of seconds.

Years ago she was standing on the commanding bridge of a light cruiser just like that Arquitens, when one third of her body was melted by the Republic fleet’s turbolaser artillery. It’s hard to say if her body is more organic or machines today.

The door bell buzzed.

“I am Flag Lieutenant Julia Lannes.” She heard the flag aide announced over the intercom “I have information about the situation around Sullust system.“



The cabin door slides open.

The flag aide straightened her tunic and stepped into the Rear Admiral stateroom.

“Come in.” Emilia gestured while her body is suspended by wires and tubes, her bionic eyes glowing a red light under her closed eyelids.

“Admiral Torson’s fleet had achieved complete superiority over the Metal Bone Clan in Sullust system. With most of the system defence neutralised, he is moving his fleet to bombardment position in order to destroy the shipyards.”

“Knowing Torson, I thought he would’ve prefer claiming the shipyards for the Empire.” Emilia said with a mechanical overtone in her voice.

“It’s reported to be the direct order from the Saber Drone.”

“The sword of state itself is involved….I see, I was just wondering what could have possibly motivated Admiral Torson to undertake such an audacious operation.” The Rear Admiral chuckles through her exposed soft metal alloy trachea. She felt the burden of responsibility rest upon her shoulder had become larger. For everyone on the Endeavour, and on the other 7 ships in the battle group.

"Ma'am." The flag aide stood at attention.

"Keep me inform if there's update from the Naos system situation. You may resume your duty, Miss Lannes."

The room once again quiet down after the flag aide left the admiral's cabin.

Emilia looks out the window, the distant stars still shining, the same way as they had been for millions of years.

Emilia do not know if it is the right call to carry out the attack on Sullust system while such a significant unknown factor had presented itself in the galaxy. Yet again, who can say for sure? The Empire had been on decline for centuries, a long drawn-out decline in which countless opportunities to save the empire were missed time and again. But the Empire endured, carry on and survived to this day.

The Empire will not go gentle into that good night.

Outside the all-encompassing Senate building, a certain Corellian Senator was flanked by various Senators, Jedi, military officials, and lobbyists as she walked from the Senate to the docks, back towards her docked starship.

“Senator truly? Only five Starhawk-class Mark 1s? I know farmhands on Corellia that build them as a hobby. If you don’t wish to support the defense of the Republic or the Corellia hyperspace trade runs; you need only say so. Corellia will not take handouts and I know that you can support more than five easily. We can discuss this more later.”

Lilya was finished with the older Senator to her right and turned her attentions to the far younger Padawan to her left. She dropped her voice to a far softer tone and even slowed her steps.

“Forgive me little starlight. I didn’t mean to ignore you, I just wanted to finish that business first. I’m afraid I can’t take you with me. Your Master would never forgive me, and I couldn’t bear to put you into such unknown dangers. Only experienced Knights and Masters are coming with me on this one.”

She placed a hand under the clearly upset Padawan’s chin.

“Next time when you're older and a knight… ok? Are you upset with me?”

The padawan blushed and turned their head away and out of her grasp. After a few shy mumbles and promises to become a “true Jedi Knight for her” the padawan left with a pout like any other teenage being in the galaxy.

Besides cheap Senators and overeager padawans; things were going well for her. A somewhat familiar voice and figure paused her steps. A congratulations and a bow had her smiling.

“Well, I am the most trustworthy, pure, and innocent Senator in the galaxy. Ask any padawan or smuggler. They all ask if I’m an angel.” She answered with a smirk.

Lilya turned to her flanking crowd.

“An unexpected friend has appeared. Please, all of you feel free to forward everything to my droid. I’ll send responses once I’m off world.”

The crowd left with various levels of grumpiness.

Lilya looked over the “Sith Hunter”. His appearance and even voice were far different from when she had first met him, but some things always stayed with a person, no matter the history or the damage they suffered from.

“You look well, and yes I am stopping home briefly. I can’t imagine what in Tatooine of all places could be more important than Corellia or Naos…”

She paused letting the question and accusation hang in the air uncomfortably. She let a small feeling of betrayal and hurt flow through her chest. Emotion was impossible to hide from an experienced Jedi or particularly “feely” padawans. She had learned it was always best to let feelings flow and not to hide them when dealing with Jedi. To them, pure feelings, were far more valuable and were far more persuasive, than any flowery words or cunning logic.

“I have room on the Coppergrin though. Feel free to claim a space. We’re leaving for the Corellian Run in three hours, I imagine I’ll have a few more Jedi hop on as well.”

Lilya walked past Sartorius and up the ramp to the Coppergrin. The red and white Consular-class cruiser was currently surrounded by the busy activities of engineers, droids, and dockhands as the starship was restocked and given mostly superfluous maintenance. Hover-carts of supplies, rations, and other goods were steadily streamed into the Coppergrin’s storage hulls to near bursting. The starship’s crew and Liya’s personal guard kept a anxious watchful eye over everything.

TheForce

Aboard The Club, Deep Space

Empty space surrounded the single, heavily modified, Decimator and made it near impossible to spot within the field of stars. The new stealth tech and the fact that no one was around didn't hurt either, so few people would use sub-light travel these days unless they had to. Within the ship, the void outside was contrasted by music blasting within. Zerek, the ship's sole organic occupant, drumming along a console in time with the beat while humming to the lyrics. The song itself was older than he was, but he loved the general spirit of rebellion and freedom it seemed to exemplify. "So Jake, how long do you think before those new visitors show up?" His sole companion for this trip, an astromech that went by designation J4-K3, let out a series of annoyed beeps and whistles. "Hey, sorry I can't go into sleep mode for literal days on end. Like you decided to do during that blockade run." Another indignant series of beeps and whistles followed, Zerek rolling his eyes in response.

The two talked in the way that only longtime friends can, mostly through insults and empty threats. Zerek at the very least liked it, it was something to pass the time as he headed out to the meeting location. J4 had, more than once, questioned why Zerek was chosen to be the envoy to the galactic newcomers. It was always chalked up to his personable nature or trying to keep him out of the hair of the Syndicate for a while. Of course, there were other reasons, but those were always kept close to the chest. Eventually their mock argument died down to give way to quiet reflection. "Hey, any word on who the Republic chose to show up?" In response, J4 played back the speech in the Senate and revealed the identity of the chosen representative. "Figures, go with your safest bet. So how many saber jockeys do you think she'll bring with her?" His astromech companion did the equivilent of rolling his eyes. " What? Like you never wondered if the peacekeepers had their sabers polished by the politicians. Just a massive circle jerk over there." J4 once again went it for an argument that Zerek was more than happy to take part in. Luckily for the both of them, they were almost at the meeting point.

Siberious listened to his master with unfathomable glee, relishing in the chance to kill a Jedi Master. The sith had only fought knights and the occasional rogue Jedi so to fight a true master and convert his padawan to the dark side would be an immense honor for both himself and towards his master. Siberious quickly spoke up "The Ewoks won't be a problem my master, thank you for trusting me with your will" he almost growled out " I will make the padawan watch as severe her master's head from his body and deliver her to you filled with rage per your will" The sith licked his teeth and for a second his grin faded into a face only seen by his master and worthy opponents, a face a pure focus that almost created an aura of cold that chilled anything near him to the bone "I shall eradicate all of them" The sound of his masters laugh sent a shiver through his spine and he couldn't help but to bow his head.

"It shall be done"

With that the sith master jumped into the trees and began darting from branch to branch, reaching out through the force to sense where the Jedi master and the old temple resided. As the lightside of the force assaulted his senses, he snarled and jumped down from a tree directly in front of the temple. He looked around and was immediately met with the Ewok spears, held by the fluffy disgusting creatures themselves.

"I have been informed that a Jedi master resides here along with his padawan" Siberious called out, ignoring the twenty spears pointed at him until one of the Ewoks poked him in the back. Without a second thought, the sith master whirled around and activated his lightsaber, killing at least five of the creatures before swinging again to decapitate the rest. Now with the ground littered in furry lifeless bodies, he called out again... "As much as i take pleasure in killing these pitiful creatures, I would much rather greet the master of the temple" he yelled almost singing the last part before laughing maniacally. With no answer and more Ewoks flooding out of the woods, siberious's grin stretched the length of his face "No? More for me then" he laughed before lunging at a group of Ewoks before slaughtering them with his crimson blade. The sith lord's cackles could be heard long across the forest, almost as if he wanted his master to hear his enjoyment in the eradication of an entire species
TheForce

Coruscant Underworld

Fenris really wished he had brushed up on his Form II. Although he was able to leap, bound and dodge over the blows of the Padawan. He wasn't able to find the breathing room to dish out any attacks of his own. Hell, he wasn't even sure what he was going to do. His blasters were gone and he hadn't properly fought with a lightsaber in an embarrassing amount of time. Plus his grasp on the Force was tenous at best and negligible at worst. This didn't seem to be a problem for the Padawan who managed to seamlessly transition from a three hit move to throwing two trash-bots at him. Barely managing to duck under the droids. Fenris found himself on one knee as a blue bladed lightsaber came toward his face. It stopped right before it would strike him. Feeling something hit him on the back of the head. It was certainly a bad way for this fight to end. Yet Fenris was in no state to do anything about it. Fenris's world went dark as he collapsed to the ground.

Korriban, Years Earlier
"Trust in the dark-side, fledgling. Else this will hurt far more than it needs to" said the Duros holding on to Fenris by the arm. Red energy was pouring out of his limb and into the leathery hand of his instructor. All Fenris could do was screech in absolute agony. This was one of their daily lessons. Every day, at any time. Darth Shreev would use Force Drain on the fledglings. This painful process sapped the young Sith of their lifeblood as well as their connection to the Force. Not only was it excruciating. It was common to hear the screaming from anywhere in the complex. All Master Shreev would say was that they needed to trust in the dark-side of the Force. Fenris knew this meant that they simply had to be stronger than him. Which was impossible given how many of his fellow students were dying by the day. Yet Fenris had never known any other life. Master Shreev saw his mind wander and frowned. "Am I BORING you fledgling? Perhaps you need another.... reminder" uttered the Sith Instructor before sinking his fingers into Fenris' shoulder...

Coruscant, Senate Building
Fenris awoke from his stupor with a scream that could deafen. The metal around him began to morph and dent in response to his emotions. It took a moment before he realized he was currently bound. A blue bladed lightsaber was held to his throat. Although this time it belonged to the elder of the paired Jedi. Not only had he fled from two Jedi Guardians. Now he had just used the Dark Side in their presence. This was why Fenris did his best not to stand out to Force Users. His body felt sluggish and slow. They must have either used some kind of Force Ability or pumped him full of some kind of sedative. Looking around with what few of his senses remained functional. Fenris was able to tell that he was in the Senate Building. That wasn't good, that meant he was in far more danger than he thought. He'd heard stories about the guys who guarded the Senate Building. Supposedly they were some of the best in the galaxy. A two bit Bounty Hunter like him would only get squashed even if he tried to call on the Force.

However instead of taking him into one of the rooms. The two Jedi instead took him to what looked like the docking station. Starships and transports of many differing types were all parked there. Fenris had no idea why they had brought him to such a place. Yet he had a bit of hope that perhaps if he tried to escape. He could swipe one of these vehicles and get to his ship. Sure he'd be wanted in Republic Space. However there were territories outside their jurisdiction where he could hide. Such hopes were dashed when he felt an overwhelming presence in the Force. Fenris had no idea who this was, but they terrified him. Brought before what appeared to be a Chiss in Jedi attire. The young bounty hunter only felt an incredible desire to flee. Whoever this man was, he was a danger to Fenris. Though in his addled state, Fenris probably couldn't even run properly. His captors began to converse with the man as they gestured at him between their words.

"Master Khumar? I'm Master Bess and this is my apprentice Da-Paak. We were doing a patrol of Coruscants lower areas when we found traces of the Dark-Side on this boy. He gave us the slip but Da-Paak was able to corner him. I've not had as many brushes with the Dark-Side as you. So I've come to ask if this boy is a member of the Sith..." said the elder woman, revealing herself to be a middle aged Human...

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