NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Emperors Pledge Part two. As people are waiting for me to make the thread I'm going to detail what's happening. The Death Star is on the way to Bastion. The Executor is on the way to deal with the Battlestar. The Thrashian fleet has left orbit and are preparing to change the guard so to speak. The attack on the Jedi temple is still going ahead however the order to execute all civilians is not. The Beam Weapons firing onto the surface is also not happening.

This is agreed between me and CW Nuff Said. OOC is to be strictly kept to the OOC thread. Debates, squabbling inability to get on with your foe is grounds for summary expulsion from the thread. GE or Allied. Don't care who you are no rubbish stuff.

I will have an IC post later but keep to being civilised.

OOC: Don't forget that you retconned the hypermatter bomb in Jurai's mantle.

Now the Line's but a man with a gun in his hand,
An' Cavalry's only what horses can stand,
When helped by Her Majesty's Engineers,
Her Majesty's Royal Engineers
With the rank and the Pay of a Sapper!

-from "Sapper", by Rudyard Kipling

Ober-Felwebel Roth stared across the seemingly limitless white blanket beneath which the trees and grass he had seen only days ago froze and died. It made him uncomfortable. Odd though it might seem for a country whos ruler had a heavy vehicle fetish and whos general staff were proven psychopaths, Boozia set much store by what they considered "natural".

And this wasn't.

He shivered. His fur greatcoat, taken from the hide of the Bärmammut, an animal that lived in no less adverse conditions on the Fortress ice-caps and enhanced with all manner of artificial fibers, had still only managed to reduce the cold to a bearable level: comfortable was a long way away. And not in the direction he was moving.

As the platoon sergeant, he wasn't strictly required to be helping with the work, but he did, leaving the barking to Leutnant Schnaebeli. They had known each other for a long time, Boozian officers and units being paired at formation and trained in unison. And no matter how superfluos the back-breacking drills on Frölisch proving ground had seemed at the time, all the members of the 37th "Joachim Krämer" engineering battalion, indeed of the like-named parent division, were glad that they had trained in real snow... and fire real enough to leave extremely persistant marks.

Infantry could be trusted to dig a hole in the ground, but very few units could produce a true dugout, and as for an artillery firebase... it was bad luck even to ask. As such, engineering units had to be moved down the line enhancing on the (F)FFFs, "Five-minute field fortification" (you can probably guess the optional addition used in the more scathing engineer units) set up by the infantry, artillery, and panzer units. It was quite a quick process when well handled, and when done by a particularly good set of commanders and their enginerring officers could be used to rapidly finish up the veteran divisions and pour more resources into the lower quality formations just pulled out of the reserves and Landwehr, or even freshly raised.

In this case the ring of snow-works round Kanta and Hakudo was progressing well, with some divisional and even corps level sectors already reporting "dug in 100%, ready for offencive or defencive action".

And should hostilities recommance, the sappers would prove that they could destroy every bit as much as they could create.

ooc: It'd help if you actually linked the OOC thread in the OP

IC:
The No Endorse fleet continued screaming towards Jurai, watching for the impact of its fire. However, just as they were projecting the fire would impact, the Death Star winked out of existance. The beams continued out into infinity, and would dissipate eventually.

"SON OF A-"

"-Commander Farsee! Incoming Whyatican comms!"

"Open a link to Rabban, we need to discuss this."

"Aye sir... Link opened!"

The commander stood squarely in front of the small video recorder, ensuring that she wasn't obscured by the flurry of activity on the bridge. "This is Commander Sandra Farsee. Those bastards got out just in time. I'd like you to take those nightcloaks out. We'll keep other fleets at bay and start to purify the surface, unless you have other ideas."

Tag

Unbeknownst to the allies of the Core Worlds, the Elmeth and arrived via jump space to the darkside of the moon. The pilot, Admiral Feronen Selinorasi, deployed the Elmeth's ten bits to scout ahead while he brought the Elmeth to rest on the moon's surface.

The small little machines sped at near-light speeds (approximately 290,000 kps), gathering data on the present battlefield, which was fed directly to Feronen's mind. He could see what they saw, thousands of ships covering the space around Jurai, shooting between each other like two trench lines.

Hmmm...this looks pretty bad, he thought, noticing the compared fleets had a vast size difference. I better cause a little mayhem before I move in.

The bits speed made for limited detection by anything. Coupled with the fact that they were only controlled psychically, and it made them practically invisible.

It was only a matter of time before the bits would be on top of their target. But which ship would it be?

OOC: Reposting with edits since major parts of the Godulan 'entry' were affected by the retcon.

Arcturus...

Yes, Baron?

This has gone on long enough. Prepare to commence hostilities against all invaders. Drive the imperial dogs from this system.

Oh how I have waited for such an opportunity! I am assuming extreme prejudice?

Indeed. Try to avoid civilian casualties. Despite our differences in outlook we are still allies with the Coredians and we must preserve their civilian populace as much as possible.

Right-o. I'll show them pain. What about the Jedi Temple? Sensors show that its coming under heavy assault.

Maximillian is preparing himself for the counterstrikes.

*GONNA KILL ME SOME SITH GONNA KILL ME SOME SITH GONNA KILL ME SOME SITH*

Oh... well... um... that might be fun to watch.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

It still annoyed the Godulans somewhat, being asked to sit back and watch as the world of Jurai fell under increasing levels of assault. That the planet was placed under siege by itself was sufficient to make them simmer with liberal amounts of malice and hatred directed at the invaders. The imperial dogs. The self-righteous, self-deluding, lying imperial lapdogs. Sheep of the emperor.

No more.

Still, the nature of the attacks left them in prime position to counter-strike. Despite the fact that many Coredian civilians had moved towards the Godulan held territories for the warmth and safety of the massive crystalline spires, none of the invading forces had seen fit to target the massive installations. Now, they shimmered into renewed activity, energy crackling across the surface of each spire, providing the refugees with a dazzling display of light and color, along with bathing the entire world in brilliant green light that almost seemed amplified by the shroud of darkness blanketing the world. With a deafening low warble, a great shield flickered into existence over each Godulan Spire across the globe.

Planetary strength in each case, but now optimized towards covering only each spire and the surrounding area, each spire would be able to withstand enemy orbital fire for a very long period of time even in the absence of secondary charging.

After this, multitudes of secondary spires began to burst from the ground with a great rumble and spray of diplaced dirt and rock and clay. Staring into the sky like great sentinels of crystal, they stood beyond the limits of the Spire shielding, despite having shields of their own to compensate for the lower level of protection. Being defended was not their purpose. Being a target was not their purpose. Causing pain was most DEFINITELY their purpose.

Planetary data funneled through the Spires and the subterranean networks that allowed them their seeming mobility. While battles raged above ground, Arcturus had whiled away the days by preparing for the ultimate eventuality of entering combat by extending each spire beyond their recognized above-ground limits through massive networks of channels and filaments and coils through which power and drones could be directed and enabling an amusing level of mobility despite the lack of Kython battleships in the area. For much of their work, the Slaughterstars would not be necessary.

In any case, the spires swiftly became aware of the location and strength of each enemy ground force and began 'shifting' network assets towards each concentration. Kython drones chittered and hissed as they burrowed their way with phenomenal speed towards the enemy forces. Thousands of drones. Millions. Many millions of the vicious little demons ground their way through the firmament with unmatched dedication and focus, making more of themselves from the excavated earth and bolstering further the forces that would rise to challenge the imperial forces.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

We need targets. These emplacements are useless if we have nothing to shoot at.

This strange shroud of darkness prevents many of our sensors from operating properly, but it would appear that clairsentience penetrates without difficulty, though discernment will be limited to neurotronic and electronic signatures. We can discern location and number, but little else.

That is all we need. Shunt power from the other sensors, see if we can expand the radius of our psionic detection capabilities to the required scales.

Executing order... sensors are up, General.

To Achaedus, individual ships did not register on the low-focus clairsentience common to Gendarmes and Kythons. All that they could read with such a means was the locations of the minds trundling about the system beyond the planet, and their general disposition to the Godulans and Coredians. Friendly vessels showed up as concentrations of pleasantly glowing sparkles of light, while enemy ships showed up as groupings of violently shuddering and pulsing points in the sky. The size of the ship could be gleaned from the number and distribution of each point for a rought guestimate of the vessel. The various Super Star Destroyers showed up nice and clear, and the Death Star showed up abundantly clear, being selected for a most auspicious of purposes.

Excellent. That should do nicely. Be sure to keep standard sensor distributions for the secondary spires. If they drop the Nightcloak to shoot back at us I wish to ensure that it is brought down permanently.

IC: The snow around Haduko was endless, an unbroken mass of flat, white land, stretching away to the distant horizon in every direction. But if you looked carefully, you might see the little bumps where once there had been crags and mounds, or where even now the Boozians lay in their covered trenches and concealed bunkers, taking turns to sleep, watch, eat, occupy themselves with whatever was available and back to sleep again.

The confusingly named Ober-Gefreiter Pieter Hauptmann lay watching the store room and occasionally taking a sip of brandy. Alongside him, half-reading a book (knowing him, it was probably a field manual), was Ober-Soldat Rudi Friedenhoff. The senior private quaffed and gave an exagerated burp out of habit.

"Hey, Rudi. What do you think of the new old man?"

The oxymoron was compounded by the fact that their new company leader was female.

"Good officer. Keeps calm, stays firm but fair, delegates, and gives the sub-units the right amount of micro-management."

The veteran chuckled to himself.

"I certainly wouldn't mind if she micro-managed mine a little..."

Rudi put on a textbook "baffled recruit" expression.

"What, you don't think Leutnant Pfeffer's fit for command?"

"Hell's of damnation, how old are you! Eight? When I asked you what you thought of her, I wasn't expecting you to give me the field unit evaluations!"

This did nothing to enlighten Friedenhoff.

"Oh, I give in, I'll give you an education in the B section barracks when our shift ends."

"You men! What are you lying around binging for! The rest of us are pulling out! If you really want to take full responsibility for the divisional sector, fine by me, but don't expect company!"

The voice was that of Haupt-Feldwebel Kriechbaum, and of every company sergeant major in the history of mankind.

"Pulling out? Why? We were just getting comfortable!"

Hauptmann was obviously against anything interfering with his night in the B section dugout. B section, if you are confused, was the female tank in the segrated platoon.

"Change of the watch, apparently. Some ships have arrived. Say we're switching over."

"Then why aren't they here? It's not like we can just stick an out to lunch sign on the trench," piped up little Friedenhoff. The burly NCO shrugged, a few snowflakes dropping from his shoulders.

"Those above know better than we."

They found the company massing in a communications and support trench, shivering, for the overhead cover was thin here and there were fewer heat-packs. There were perhaps 50 of them, a mere platoon in infantry, with ten tanks, a variant of the famous and venerable Leman Russ. Machinery was being checked and, in many cases, thawed, and the same could alomst be said for the troopers.

"Don't worry. It'll be a short sprint to a landing craft, and then back home. So look on the brightside, Hauptmann. Or I'll just have to organise a little rearguard excursion, won't I?"

Jurai, a smoking heap and wreck of a planet. Torn asunder and ruinous months of terror and warfare. Desolated by hate and polluted by fire. This, once a lush world of green had been transformed into a white landscape of renewed innocence, this sphere knew nothing of happiness, purity or kindness. This world had forgotten love, forgotten serenity.

Imperial vessels rose from darkened surface passing through the tranquil clouds and sky. The Nightcloak removed by the Imperial forces was now on her way back to Imperial center. But high above, stewing over the ineffectiveness of the grand campaign, Inquisitor Malorum waited, stewing in the depths of his own failure.

This was supposed to be the final defeat of the Coredians; their last stand and final suffeage before the eventaul fealty to the Emperor. But things were not as they should be, and Inquisitor Malorum had failed his master, his lord, and living God.

Outside the vast bridge windows the Imperial fleet was breaking up, countless Star Destroyers and frigates each entered Hyperspace descending towards their sector of operation, leaving the final evacuation of Jurai to Malorum. The emperors political representative in the system.

The Bits moved in on Malorum's personal ship quickly, their speed making them hard to track by anything. Soon, they were on top of it.

Each individual Bit did not stay in one place for long after each shot, and they'd sometimes fire their shots while they were moving. Each shot had the power of a light cruiser's main guns, and with the amount of Bits buzzing about at such speeds, it would probably drive the anti-fighter gunners out of their mind.

It was surreal. Too good to be true. Repeated pinching and blinking only increased the Twilight Zone feeling of the most recent situation.

The Temple, despite its ruinious look, despite the Empire's greatest attempts, still stood proud over the snowy landscape. The Empire, for some reason, has decided to throw in the towel and once more, light and heat made its way down to the planet of Jurai, where the five million survivors of the planet blinked at the sudden reversal of fortunes.

It was like a wave of euphoria. People started laughing. Dancing and teasing the Empire. Flinging snow into the air as if they were capable of hitting the Star Destroyers in the air with snowballs. Although there was still the matter of a few enemy capital ships in orbit, the fact that the Nightcloak was down and many ships left the Jurai system served to let the people know that.

We. Have. Won!

The Media is going to have a field day for sure. A propaganda boost for the Rebel Alliance is just what the doctor ordered!

Master Press Tilton, who suspected Godulan influence in defeating the Empire, wasted no time in powering up the massive counterjamming systems of the Temple's Communications Center to break the jamming the remaining members of the Imperial Fleet imposed on Jurai and send the latest report of Jurai to Konoha.

"Members of the High Council. I bring to you quite confusing yet good news from Jurai. As you can see, the Nightcloak has been lifted and for some reason, the Imperial Navy has decided to lift the seige of Jurai. It is not known how many enemy ground forces remain on the planet, but we do know that we still have much to do. It is imperative that you send reinforcements *immediately* to take advantage of this sudden lull and make amends to restore Jurai as the capital of Coredia. Once again, the Empire appears to be leaving. Make haste and may the Force be with you!"

The Jedi Master encrypted the message and powering up the trancievers to full, blasted it into space with enough power to fry a city. He was taking no chances with Imperial jamming equipment.

=====

Konoha

It was 21 days after the invasion of Konoha by Lady Nightshade. That comes to about 45 days since the Seige of Jurai began. Hard to believe that it was only a month and a half since the Empire unleashed its Surprise Attack of Doom and chased us away for a time.

I strode around the room, still feeling achy after the battle with my sister. I have only just come out of the bacta tube a few days ago and while I'm feeling much better now, I still felt the creak of healing bones and muscles. Still, that wouldn't stop me from doing my duties as Emperor of the Coredian People.

I looked over the latest reports from the front lines. Mationbuds appears to be getting a spanking from Palpatine, according to the CIA's Spynet. I smiled. It seems to me that no one, not even the Empire, really likes the fool that is Darth Matter. In other news, someone from Copenhagen has decided to whisk our people off to their own systems as part of the refugee situation. I'd better follow up on that and make sure that they are who they say they are. I wrote up orders to initiate the followup procedures, which involves sending no-nonsense diplomats and/or Jedi to them and probing for the truth. Next came the actual warfront. Last report from the probe we sent weeks ago indicated that Jurai was still under seige and that it'd take a major effort to throw them off. Thank goodness all Coredia's allies were ready to strike at a moment's notice. It was up to us to provide the word. Then came the disputed territories in the Midrim. A skirmish near Dubrillon, a minor incident at Thula, and something indicating that Knight Hawkins is MIA. I might want to look into how I might rescue the man. Now that I suspected that he was on Coruscant back during the Flashy Black Sun incident, I felt guilty about leaving him to face the galaxy's worst government alone. I made another note to look into where he might be hidden.

Someone hammered on the door, almost to the point of breaking it down. I chuckled and shook my head. "Overzealous Padawans..."

But the feeling that came from the panting teenager as I opened it was not of awe but a rush of emotion. Mostly, it was confused happiness. "So what makes you want to break down my office door, kid?"

"Masaki-sama. A report. From Jurai!" The kid breathed out.

"Calm down, Padawan Lawson." I instructed. "What do you mean there's a report from Jurai? The probe isn't due for another twenty--"

He cut me off, which was rare for an apprentice to do to a superior. "It's not coming from the probe, sir. It's coming from the planet! The Temple!"

The Temple? I frowned. "Where's the Council?"

"They're heading towards the Command--" A sudden *pop* of air displacement left Lawson blinking as he then closed the door. "Now I know how that feels..."

=====

Konohagekure Military Command Center, Konohagekure Village

A sudden pop started the troops, but a second look suddenly had salutes hastily raised. "Sir!"

Naruto came up to me. "That was fast."

"Where's the Council?" I asked.

"In the Control Room." He said.

I nodded and headed swiftly towards the control room. Once we arrived, Admirals Pellaeon and Horvath, General Solomon and General Mustang, Hokage Tsunade, Sannin Jiraiya, Masters Elendil, Rydo, Lowbacca and Blayden were all sitting or standing, looking at a hologram of deep importance.

"Nice of you to join us, Daniel. We've just recieved word that Jurai itself is once again in contact with the rest of the galaxy." Tsunade said.

"Wasn't there a Nightcloak in orbit?" Naruto asked.

"There was, but now...well, you'd better take a look, sir." General Solomon said and turned on the message.

"Members of the High Council. I bring to you quite confusing yet good news from Jurai. As you can see, the Nightcloak has been lifted and for some reason, the Imperial Navy has decided to lift the seige of Jurai. It is not known how many enemy ground forces remain on the planet, but we do know that we still have much to do. It is imperative that you send reinforcements *immediately* to take advantage of this sudden lull and make amends to restore Jurai as the capital of Coredia. Once again, the Empire appears to be leaving. Make haste and may the Force be with you!"

Kriff... I reached into the Force, asking if it was authentic. The room disappeared, throwing me far into space and my Force Sight formed an image of a planet covered in whiteness with some ships in orbit. Then I came back to Konoha.

I took in a deep breath. "It may be a trap. It may be authentic. What matters now is that we take advantage of this. Elendil, will you please notify the Woodians and all other interested parties? They would be most interested in this. Admiral Pellaeon: Get me a SitRep of the Fleet, stat! General Solomon, the same goes for the Corps and the Army. Mustang, I want a plan on my desk within two hours, covering all possible space and ground scenarios pertaining to this situation! Tsunade, begin recon of the Jurai system immediately. If Vader picks his nose, I want to know about it!"

Great image there, Daniel. Naruto snickered.

Shut up. I answered.

"We have a planet to liberate, ladies and gentlemen! Let's get to it!" I ordered.

OOC: Skipping ahead three weeks like CW...

--------------------------------

The Siege of Jurai had had implications beyond what the Empire had even cared to notice, for some backwater nation that no one at all would have noticed were it not for a stray Woodian Force-sensitive who had found his way to the Jedi Order a few decades back.

Such had caught the attention of CoreWorlds, a nation that later intervened to help end the most ruinous war in Evil Woody Thoughts' history. When Jurai was sieged, and Evil Woody Thoughts found itself unable to return the favor, it sent the nation (barely) known at all to the Empire through third-party rumors, into dezgra...a state of such shame that a few million Woodian civilians committed ritual suicide upon learning of Jurai's fall.

The drastic and decisive intervention that Evil Woody Thoughts had mustered two weeks later was without question the most drastic reversal of anything in the nation's history--the Legion Cross, the nation's highest honor, was awarded for the first time in the nation's history posthumously to Admiral Riordan for ramming and destroying Lady Nightshade's flagship; the Parliament had met in closed session for the first time in eighty years and returned with a declaration of war against Huntaer; after seven months of gloom, doom, and lament there were fireworks and celebrations in the streets once more; the White Diamond Stock Index, which had fallen some fifteen percent after Jurai, posted its largest one-day gain ever the business day following Konoha, with a gain of more than twenty percent, then continued to recover from the effects of the civil war itself as a nation that had been in more or less a Great Depression, both literally and figuratively, mobilized itself for a single purpose.

Given Konoha, citizens started openly talking about what was previously unthinkable. Liberating Jurai.

It was, therefore, incumbent upon Prime Minister Jacob Whitfield (who, coincidentally enough, happened to be that stray Force-sensitive and was now a thermokinetic Jedi Master) to convey such to the Government of CoreWorlds. Such had largely already been conveyed, but there was something called "in light of new information..."

Upon receiving his own reports on the apparent situation on Jurai, the Jedi Master sought out one Daniel Masaki through the Force. We need to talk...

I took in a deep breath. "It may be a trap. It may be authentic. What matters now is that we take advantage of this. Elendil, will you please notify the Woodians? They would be most interested in this. Admiral Pellaeon: Get me a SitRep of the Fleet, stat! General Solomon, the same goes for the Corps and the Army. Mustang, I want a plan on my desk within two hours, covering all possible space and ground scenarios pertaining to this situation! Tsunade, begin recon of the Jurai system immediately. If Vader picks his nose, I want to know about it!"

OOC: What about me? Did you forget about little old me? I have a good size fleet in Konoha. http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=11653239&postcount=72 You need to send a message to Friedrich, too. Or tell Raidon that’s on like bees on honey.

OOC: I know, I know. Have them beam in or something. Ha'taks are good for that, hehe!

IC:
We need to talk...

Those four simple words conveyed the Prime Minister's voice over the rivers of the Force. And I agreed with the statement.

Yes, we do. I answered.

OOC: I know, I know. Have them beam in or something. Ha'taks are good for that, hehe!

OOC: I got something, hope you don’t care.

IC: On the surface of Konoha, the dragon master Raidon was watching over some Coredian younglings being trained by a few Coredian masters. He was bored of all of this waiting, when will the fleet go off to kick butt like they were send here for. He called out with the Force…

Daniel, anything new about Jurai?

At the same time, two Mugen Ligers were running across a large open plain. They were running a practice mission with some of the Coredain Zoid pilots. Charles and Shiro were piloting the Ligers.

OOC: And you don't have to role-play the second part.

Nashorn was typical of tanks in the Fifty-Seventh Panzer Regiment, the armoured component of the Third Infantry Division. It was painted white, grey, and blackish blue in a pattern of angular patches. Passive camouflage seldom actually worked in these days of sattelite recon and multi-function Surveyor packages, but it never hurt to try. Especially since it gave the over-enthusiastic new enlisted, of which Friedenhoff was so representative, something to feel important about on long nights.

That was an odd thing about campaigning in modern times, you fell out of the usual Boozian 20 hour day/night cycle due to the need to catch a rest whenever possible, frequent interactions with 18-hour Furnacers and 27-hour Harvesters, and visits to foreign planets. Hauptmann, a veteran of fighting in the warlord systems, some of which had 14 or 12 hour days, had learned the importance of catnapping, and was doing so now, at his gun. Unteroffizier Traschel was sitting with the rest of them, his hatch slammed thoroughly shut. Soldat Steuben and Friedenhoff, respectively loader (a task which chiefly entailed pushing buttons) and radio operator who doubled as the sponson gunners were only half awake. Gefreiter Eberstark, driver and bow gunner, was the only one truly focused on his duty.

The only noise was the rhythmic rattle of the engine, heard softly, as though there was a blanket round your head, and the occasional mutter from Steuben as he composed a letter home. Home... there was a nice thought. After a campaign such as this, the troopers would not be shipped straight back to Fortress, but instead rewarded with the back pay of those rations they had abstained from during combat and leave on their homeworlds, Boozia, Furnace, and Harvest.

It was easy to tell them from one another. Boozians, unsurprisingly, were typical Boozians. They spoke with the stereotyped accent, neat, sharp, and clipped, they had an average physique comparable to that of a Terran, and, being the most closely linked to the old Imperium families, they were the most likely to have names like "Von Tieschowitz". Harvesters fit the archetype of the big, musclebound rural who spoke softly and drew out all the vowels. And Furnacers were lanky and slight, courtesy of their planets 0.91 Gs, and spoke in quick, gutteral tones laced with plosives that would've said "working class" to almost anyone familiar with Human linguistical stereotypes.

"There's our ticket out of this hellhole."

Traschel waved his hand in a sweeping gesture towards the turret camera screen. It showed the imposing bulk of a heavy Boozian landing craft, sitting half buried in snow. For the benefit of 21st century readers, you've probably seen the picture of Cadians in a melee around their standard, head on, with a Warlord titan in the distance. A Boozian landing barge is a scaled down version of the thing in the left background. And it's still big enough for a division and then some, plus air support and a few weeks' supplies.

"I just want to get this damn greatcoat off."

"You'll need heavy machinery. I've been sleeping in mine."

"Same, but personally I'd use the tank gun if that was what it took for a hot bath."

"Hot bath, warm bed, cooked breakfast..."

"I've got dibs on the first shower!"

The tank rumbled up into the belly of the beast, water creeping down the flanks as snow and frost met the heat of the barges machinery. It took a lot of large, complicated devices to move the thing down, let alone up. Amd it wasn't the comfiest of rides. But it was a world away from the frozen hell of the campaign, and this served as more than a little consolation to the soldiers as their vehicles roared away into the stars.

Time for phase two. The interesting part.

As soon as the Boozian craft began acending into orbit, the main battlegroup commanded by Supreme Commander Feronen folded into orbit around Jurai, training their guns on any Imperial ship, daring them to fire their turbo-laser batteries.

Feronen soon joined them, whipping around from the dark side of the moon and moving into formation with the main fleet. He was soon joined by several fighters and mobile suits, who flanked him like an honor guard.

The SDFs of the Nosferatu Battlegroup began moving towards the Boozian ships, ever wary of the Imperial ships nearby. They were ready to engage at a moment's notice.

"All Boozian ships, proceed to form into the Nosferatu Battlegroup. They'll be the ones taking you."

Troopin’, troopin’, troopin’ to the sea:
’Ere’s September come again—the six-year men are free.
O leave the dead be’ind us, for they cannot come away
To where the ship’s a-coalin’ up that takes us ’ome today.
-Rudyard Kipling, Troopin'

The barge had never been meant for space operations. It went up, it went down, mostly in places where such concpts were applicable. Trying to cross a system in one was akin to the famous archetype of crossing the ocean on a log. But they didn't have far to go, and there was a steam-liner waiting for them.

They hadn't had time to exit the tank, and however insignificant it was in a clash of star-juggernaughts, the armour gave Traschel's crew a feeling of invincibility. So they lay, chatting and nibbling at the last of their rations as the barges manouvred into the midst of BG Nosferatu.

Daniel, anything new about Jurai? Raidon said.

Something tells me that we're either going to finally free Jurai or find out that it was way too easy. I replied to Raidon.

Two Hours Later....

Several plans were formulated based on the current information. Here are what they boil down to:

Plan A: If the Empire truly has left, we'll blow up whatever's left and take Jurai like the good little Jedi we are.

Plan B: If the Empire intends to come back and smack us silly in some blindingly simple plan, here's what we'll do.

We'll send a token force of each of the allied fleets to sniff around and spring the trap. Then when the trap is sprung, the main fleet will jump in and annihiliate the Empire's forces.

Plan C: If Plan B involves the Death Star and/or Executor and/or GA Thrawn nearby, waste no time in firing EVERY DAMNED WEAPON we have at the flagship or Death Star. Singularity and tachyon torpedoes are to be immediately fired at the superlaser at all possible.

Plan D: If we don't find a trap and the Empire ends up attacking somewhere else, we'd best find out what's the most important target the Empire would attack next and plan accordingly. That probably means either Bastion or another row at Konoha.

Plan E: Stay at Konoha and do nothing for Jurai.

I frowned at Plan A. Whoever came up with that is an idiot, probably a politician. I smiled as a plan to give that politician the chance to lead the charge began to form. Great way to get rid of an incompetent without trouble. Plan E is probably the safest bet, but not one that the people would like, for sure. I would say that a combination of B, C and D will have to be employed, but once my allies arrive, we'll hash it out further.

As for the fleet: the 1st and 2nd Fleets have been further decimated by the attacks and will stay at Konoha to continue healing and to protect it. The Chimera's task force will be involved, though. Why wouldn't it be?

The Third Fleet...well! With them transforming into the renamed Black Fleet, I would suggest they be the token force, led by the Battlestar Coredia.

I would probably take the Fourth and Fifth fleets and send them to bolster the forces of Konoha and Bastion.

Then the Sixth and Seventh Fleets will be the main forces to attack anyone at Jurai. I will lead that force with Chimera. That means the Dragons will be involved, and they would be pleased.

The 8th Fleet will send a number Shinobi Heavy Cruisers, Katana Medium Cruisers, Nova Destroyers and a Hokage Battleship to flank the main forces. The rest of the 8th Fleet will remain at Konoha.

And the 9th Fleet, which is the fleet of the Duel of the Fates, will be held in reserve to attack from a position of advantage.

The latest report from Jurai came in thanks to the recon:

Copenhaghen was helping Nova Boozia leave the planet! How suspicious. How suspicious indeed...

Seismic signatures were poofing with startling speed before the expanding range of the Kython incursions. It rather swiftly became apparent to General Arcturus that the Imperials were leaving the planet.

They're bolting! The Nightcloak is down and we can start challenging them!

WHAT? NAW MAN NAW! I WANTED TO KILL SOME OF THEM DAMMIT!

I am trying to find where the evacuation centers might be. It might be possible to stage a sneak attack on them. Give them a swift kick in the ass as they try to crawl out the door, so to speak.

With the vanishing of the Nightcloak, only a few moments passed before the sky and the space around Jurai suddenly lit up with activity. Targets were acquired almost instantly as sensor sweeps picked up the evacuation of hostile-tagged forces, and the opportunity was noted...

All across the planet, strange pods, the size of large buildings, burst forth from the ground and immediately opened fire on all enemy-tagged vessels in range. A strange thudding sound preceded each bolt of transparent rippling energy that rocketed into space after the fleeing Imperial forces. Each bolt, a pulse of condensed momentum, would strike enemy vessels with force equivalent to mass-driven asteroids, causing damage as expected and also flinging the ship about due to the sheer inertial buffeting strength of the assault.

Many thousands of these Turrets formed across the planet, spanning the Godulan-held territories of the world and also showing up in various portions of Coredian territories.

At the same time, a great rumbling could be heard through many Coredian cities as swarms of green-glowing monstrosities surged forth from underground tunnels and moved in, searching for Imperial forces with intent to destroy and absorb...

Holy Shit! was all Raidon said back to his friend. His massive form disappeared from the beach he was sitting on in a cloud of white smoke. A brimstone smell filled the air around the smoke. Riadon knew that the younglings would be asking question why the dragon-man leave as fast as he did. The poor Coredian Jedi Masters.

A few minutes later, he reappeared be hide the form of an armored knight with long white hair. The man (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/FriedrichLehnsherr.jpg) was sitting in a garden in a house that Daniel allowed him to sat in. The young looking man had his eyes closed. The man, along with some of his family, fought the hordes of Lady Nightshade.

“Sorry to arrive without warning you, my Lord.” said Raidon with a bow.

Friedrich opened his eyes and looked at the dragon-man. “What is it, Master Raidon.” he asked.

“Jurai, the Nightcloak is down because Daniel said that we're either going to finally free Jurai or find out that it was way too easy.” said Raidon, like a kid at a candy store. “The Nightcloak has to be down.”

“Master, control yourself.” said the Prince. “Go find out everything they know, I will be there later.”

“Yes, my Lord.” said Raidon, who then said something in elfish and disappeared in cloud of smoke.

He reappears in the same room as Daniel. “Emperor,” he said with a bow. “What is it that you and your men know?”

Back at the garden, the Prince looked around at the plants in the small area. “I hope this is for real because I’m tried of this waiting game.”

The main body of the No Endorse fleet continued on its vector, coming slowly but unstoppably into the shattered system. But there was no nightcloak to break. The fleet therefore seemed out of place. Almost dressed up with no place to go... No Death Star was there to greet them with its superlaser, no huge fleets to combat. Only the Boozians, and the Copenhaghenkoffenlaugh fleet.

But why were they helping the Boozians escape? Were they turning traitor? Or were they merely escourting the Boozians out of the system? There could be only one response to this.

This is commander Sandra Farsee of No Endorse fleet Juliet. We request that you cease airlifting the Boozians away from Jurai and turn them over to No Endorse, Coreworlds, or the GFFA protection as Prisoners of War, to be dealt with as required. These forces will be exchanged for forces which are currently held by Nova Boozia and the Galactic Empire, in order that innocents may once again breathe free.

The fleet began to fan out, silently preparing itself for a conflict over these troops, as well as an attack from the remaining Imperial forces. The Empire was being wierd... this had been too easy. And why were these guys helping the Boozians? Something was afoot...

===================================================

In the nearby system of Valc III, dozens of warships, as well as a good number of supply transports and refueling vessels appeared. As the hours passed, the number of ships in-system increased dramaticly. This would soon become the staging ground for all No Endorse fleet efforts in the area. But for now, there were only a couple frigates, some cruisers and a lot of supplies.

OOC: To clarify, the barges are mine. I'm airlifting the troops out, and Copen is tessing them home. It's all happening very fast. And I'm assuming that this wind-band is aubible to my ships? If not, I'll edit.

IC: The Godulan turrets scarred the landers, blowing away superstructure and making many un-spaceworthy. But they were being tesseracted out quickly and efficiently, and very few if any would be completely destroyed. The problem was a shortage of barges. Two full armies were trapped on the surface, and it would take several hours and a lot of communications and co-operation between Nosferatu and the army HQs, S3A and S6A, and Nosferatu.

Pioneer battalions hastily fortified natural defences as weakened and demoralised kampfgruppe were herded into positions. It would be a desperate operation, but there was hope. Seismic disturbances indicated potential attacks from below, so sites were selected for the solidity of the earth and the snow was hastily melted with incendiary shells. To counteract the dip this caused and as a general principle, the forts were on higer ground than their surroundings And they were also kept away from the turret concentrates to ease evacuation. The remnants of the marine units skimmed along the nap of the earth to spot for the warships. Imperial orders could be damned, the troops needed ortillery to clear the pickups, and the commanders held the lives of their soldiers above the doctrines of scheming trans-humans.

Now for more problems. No-one wanted a direct fleet engagemnet with NE forces, so this one had to be handled carefully. No-one had asked for their opinion, so the commanding HQ, SAGA, transmitted to Copen forces, although the NE would easily pick it up if they were listening. That was the idea.

"Tell these people that since we never surrendered, treatment as prisoners is unlawful. Tell him we are going to officially severe ties to the GE once the troops are safe, and explain the nature of our alliance."

Feronen was bewildered by the blatant assault by the Godulans against the Boozians, and was even more appalled by the Endorsian fleet stating that the Boozians were war criminals. He sighed, knowing that this is what happens when you keep people out of the loop. Feronen finally opened a wide-band frequency to all forces in the vicinity of Jurai.

"Attention to all allies of the Core Worlds. My government has placed the Boozians under protection on the basis that the Boozian government plans to secede from the Galactic Empire. The Boozian government has also stated that, when the time comes, their forces will assist us in beating back the Imperial forces. So, please, cease your firing and let's stop this nonsense."

Once the Supreme commander's message had been transmitted, the Super Dimension Forces began moving in the way of the Godulan fire, using their Omni-direction Barrier Systems to prevent any damage to themselves, as well. Although this act of defense happened, the Copen fleet did not return fire.

Debris had been cleaned up and some of it was used in making repairs to a few damaged ships in the fleet. All in all they had performed well in handling the Rancor fleet attacking Konoha and the compliments from the Admiral to Commander Sobach were well deserved. Her first losses ever, while commanding something on this scale had sullied her mood after the victory. It wasn't easy loosing crew mates on your first command job and she knew that with war everywhere, the ships lost would be hard to replace. But they would manage. Somehow. Now she occupied her mind and time by overseeing the repairs. A few reports had come in from Head Quarters, updating them on the current situation of the war elsewhere. Many allies had fallen under attack recently and the Empire was doing everything within its power to protect them all and deal with the agressors. There was just simply too many.

Doron took some of the news the hardest, learning that his friend and mentor was currently invading one nation and his fleet had been completely surrounded with the flagship heavily damaged. Still, he was fighting on. He knew though, Richard would not give in easily and would not let himself die on some distant battlefield if for no other reason than to see his wife and son again. Richard was competent, strong, and above all cherished life. No, Doron expected to see that man waiting for him on D'Hara whenever he got a chance to head home. His lips pulled back in a small smile thinking about the stories they would share while their wives spent their own time talking. Doron and Kanna had no child of their own, but after this, perhaps it would be time for one of their own. It would certainly give Cypher someone to talk other than the Mord-Sith lurking about over Richard's shoulder.

For Jinto, he knew little about how his home was faring under all this. He couldn't remember the last time he visited the exotic planet that was his home. How many years had it been? It didn't matter. Whether back within the Empire or out here at the fringes of their next battle, he could look at two things and smile. One was that he was with his wife at all times and no matter the outcome of the battle, he would be with her til the end. The other was that despite that his home no longer felt like home, Jinto was here helping a friend take back his. That would be enough for him to make everything worthwhile and given meaning to the dead. He looked at Lafiel from the corner of his eyes while they walked. To his other side walked their son, Doron. No matter what could be said about this war in this part of the universe, it had brought the three of them together for a time.

The three Abh were being shown to where Daniel was staying during his time of recovery. Much work lay ahead of them and it was time to get started. An oppurtunity seemed to have presented itself and now was their chance to take back what belonged to the Coredians. The doorknob turned, and the door was pushed open for the three...

OOC: Boozia- Keep in mind also that the turrets are attacking space-borne targets as well. It'd prolly be safe to assume that the maximum firing range of the Kython Guns would be about the distance to Jurai's furthest moon. I... probably should have mentioned that in the first post. I KNEW I forgot something... Land based targets are not as much of a priority because attacking them would require line of sight. These turrets are not artillery platforms. It would be better to consider them planetary turbolasers in general strength and... application.

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The Godulan fire continued unabated, hurling massive bolts of pure momentum into the sky and across the globe. Additional attention was paid to any Copen vessel that attempted to intercept Godulan batteries, fire focusing like light through a magnifying glass on any vessel that attempted to do so before returning to challenging the fleeing forces. If possible, they would ensure that none would be capable of leaving the system alive.

There was nothing personal about it, that was just how they worked. After all, training endlessly to challenge the nigh-unstoppable might of the Chronosians, challenging them on equal ground and learning not to back down in the face of such overwhelming strength, had ingrained in them a certain amount of... ruthlessness. Their moves were meant to inspire fear and confusion in addition to destruction of all opposition. They ruled the battlefields, and they would allow nothing different until the death of the last man... or Kython.

As the message from the Copen forces came through, a response came from planetside after only a moment's silence. A screeching voice like metal grinding on metal wrenched its way through the airwaves, ensuring that all knew exactly who was talking...

They participated in this attack that darkened the sun and pitched this world into darkness. They joined in the killing of Coredian civilians. Innocents. Men, women, and children laid low by the Imperial guns. For this, we care not for their future intentions. Future secession from the Imperials or not, they shot at our realm with bullet and shell and blaster bolt.

For this they will surrender, unconditionally, and face the consequences, or die. We will not stop until either of these conditions is satisfied.

Penance will be exacted.

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For the Boozians on the ground, they didn't so much see the approach of the above-ground forces as much as hear it. A dull rhythmic thud of many thousands of inhuman feet of varying size marching towards them from several directions at once.

The Starspiders would be visible first, 30 meters of green glowing death on eight bladed legs, two pincer like arms bristling with energy, and a great tail curling overhead, similarly bristling with energy. They strode forward at a ponderous pace, matching that of the rest of the army marching with them. As they came into view of the Boozian fortifications, their pincers sparked with coalescing energy just before unleashing sizzling and ripping beams of disintegration at the enemy.

Visible after them would be the Gendarmes, massive humanoid creatures seemingly covered in full crystalline plate and carrying smaller pincer-like weapons akin to those on the Starspiders. Amidst all of these were the Impalers, small beings of crystalline manufacture that hunched forward with their four arms slung forward with energy blades at the ready.

And beneath the Boozians' feet... a dull hammering, growing in strength...

"Attention to all allies of the Core Worlds. My government has placed the Boozians under protection on the basis that the Boozian government plans to secede from the Galactic Empire. The Boozian government has also stated that, when the time comes, their forces will assist us in beating back the Imperial forces. So, please, cease your firing and let's stop this nonsense."
"Naive." Master Press Tilton shook his head and contacted Feronen. "We have absolutely no proof that the Boozians would do this. After all, they slaughtered and aided in the slaughter of millions of Coredian citizens. Do you really expect us to stop firing on the basis of mere words? Besides, the Godulans are not as forgiving as we are."

The few planetary turbolaser batteries surrounding the Temple boomed as they aimed to shoot down Boozian craft.

Then another message was picked up and replied.

"Tell these people that since we never surrendered, treatment as prisoners is unlawful. Tell him we are going to officially severe ties to the GE once the troops are safe, and explain the nature of our alliance."
"Give us one good reason why we should trust you at your word. For the Coredian blood on your hands, compensation is the only recourse." Was the reply. "At least you have the good sense to leave Jurai while you still could. Unconditional surrender or death is your choice now. And believe us when we tell you that surrender would be preferable to death at either ours or Godulan hands. Especially Godulan hands."

The tattered but remobilized Army advanced on the demoralized Boozian defenses now that the Godulans have begun the assault. Turbolasers blasted Boozian positions. The last reserves of missiles streamed into the air and fell upon the dead and the dying. And between them, Godulan-made animal mecha, Cougars, Bears, and Wolves (oh, my!) charged forth and activated their Feed mode, meaning not only men will die, but they will be eaten as well and replenish health. And then...blood will run red on the snowy lands.

Coredians can be the best of friends, but they can also be the worst of enemies once aroused. The Boozians have chosen to become the latter when they invaded with the Empire. They have sown the wind. Now they shall reap the whirlwind.

The three Abh were being shown to where Daniel was staying during his time of recovery. Much work lay ahead of them and it was time to get started. An oppurtunity seemed to have presented itself and now was their chance to take back what belonged to the Coredians. The doorknob turned, and the door was pushed open for the three...
Guards saluted the threesome from the Humankind Abh as I greeted them. "Hey. You're just in time. By the way, meet Raidon, the Dragon Man from Transylvania. Once Prime Minister Whitfield gets here, we can begin planning. Right now, you can look over these plans (see Plans A through E in my last post) and make suggestions or whatever."

Guards saluted the threesome from the Humankind Abh as I greeted them. "Hey. You're just in time. By the way, meet Raidon, the Dragon Man from Transylvania. Once Prime Minister Whitfield gets here, we can begin planning. Right now, you can look over these plans (see Plans A through E in my last post) and make suggestions or whatever."

Raidon cocked a looked at Daniel. “They have not gone by the name ‘Transylvania’ for a long time, Emperor.” he said. He looked up at the three people that entered. “Greetings, I’m Master Raidon of the Dominion. A Warlock in the Dominionite ranks.”

The massive crimson dragon-man bowed to the three people then looked back at Daniel. “The Prince should arrive soon.” he said, but it was a little too late.

“The Prince is here.” said Friedrich with his lovely sister (http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y101/CountJWolf/LinMingCai.jpg) beside him in a green dress.

He and his sister bowed to Daniel. Then bowed their heads at the three Abh. “I don’t think we have meet,” said the Prince, “Prince Friedrich Wildegraf Lehnsherr of the Dominion, Field Marshal of the Dominion Grand Army.” And this is my sister, Princess Lin Ming Cai.”

OOC: This entire post is Boozia. My fault entirely. Now, as far as I am aware, the Copen ships can resist most conventional weapons for an extremely limited time, but time enough to duck into the atmosphere and tess out the ships. And since I have orbital platforms and one helluva lot of artillery, I'm going to have to fluid time.

IC: They were making it clear, one by one, occasionally puncuated by one energy signature sparking and dying. But they were making it. And the ships were not sitting idle. Frigates, destroyers, and kight cruisers scattered like agile (comparatively speaking) fish and helped the fight with their long-range torpedoes from beyond the range of the Godulans, while the massive cruisers and battlewagons ducked in and out, engines, arrestors, engines, arrestors, guns blazing in a rhythm that could shatter cities. That was the disadvantage of fixed defence.

Gun platforms weren't the only target. Shells rained on the enemy as they advanced while the remaining aircraft screamed above them, whirling around the larger spider vehicles, peeling off from burts of fire. A crashing rumble like a fast-moving train filled the air as artilery brought all manner of chemical concoctions down on the enemy infantry. And their was always the good old grape-shot shell, something of a misnomer since the things that came out of Boozia anti-personell weapons tended towards the sharp. Missiles concentrated on the big ones, while a few batteries scatted mines ahead of the advancing troops.

As they came over the horizon, the enemy would be hit with a storm like hellfire. Heavy bolters... you couldn't beat a 15mm high-explosive rocket-assisted shrapnel shell for suppressive fire. The bigger enemies could be bealt with the tank cannons, which where much the same, except a lot bigger. And the sub-terrainien minefields were nearly done.

Know for the diplomatic side of things. The unpleasant bit.

"So these are the rightious, are they? These are our liberators? You want a reason? Okay, we wanted to. Now, give us a reason why we shouldn't! I give you my conditional surrender. Safe passage home, that's all. And we can offer reparations. But if every death must be avenged, I'll let you avenge forever more. No-one's going to stop the killing anytime soon, and especially not you!

"So, noble liberators, is there room for honour up their with truth, justice, and freedom?"

Lafiel and Jinto both snapped off salutes in a greeting to Daniel and the others from Transylvania. The other cloaked figure simply curtly bowed his head displaying pointed ears, the same as his mother. Jinto smiled seeing Daniel feeling better. "It's good to see you again Daniel and healthy. As far as introductions go, I am Count Jinto of the Lyn Sune Roc Hyde. This is my wife, Admiral Abriel Nei Dobrusk Paryunu Lafiel and this young lad in the cloak is our son Doron. One of two Abh force users within the Empire."

With the pleasantries dispensed with, the Admiral was already at work looking over the several plans being considered to retake Jurai. To Lafiel, it seemed that most of the basics had been covered. She quickly surmized that the last option was not an option at all and threw it out. It was not her policy to allow the enemy a beach head within allied territory, but her opinions would wait until they were ready to begin discussing strategies.

"So these are the rightious, are they? These are our liberators? You want a reason? Okay, we wanted to. Now, give us a reason why we shouldn't! I give you my conditional surrender. Safe passage home, that's all. And we can offer reparations. But if every death must be avenged, I'll let you avenge forever more. No-one's going to stop the killing anytime soon, and especially not you!

"So, noble liberators, is there room for honour up their with truth, justice, and freedom?"
The Jedi Master knew the other man had a point. But he had a parting shot of his own. "It must be said, that this talk of honor is not worth the fact that millions of noncombatants have died by you and your allies' hands. As you leave, here is something to chew on: The spread of evil is the symptom of a vacuum. Whenever evil wins, it is only by default: by the moral failure of those who evade the fact that there can be no compromise on basic principles.

That said, we can negotiate the terms of surrender. After all, we still have honor. We will end our offensive and you shall end yours. Instructions are as follows: cease firing immediately and put up white flags so that we know you are sincere."

A few minutes passed as the Coredian infantry and mecha ceased the advance under fire. They began to pull back a few hundred meters, but only just. It would take but a word and the advance will continue. Now the ball was in Nova Boozia's court.

"Godulans, the Boozians will surrender to us. Please cease the advance on their ground positions."

"Cease all fire on Coredian forces, this order is immediate and cannot be countermanded at any level of the chain of command. I mean that, Oberst Herschel."

The comm was flipped back to Coredian command staff.

"We thank you for an honourable deed. I will not say good. Good and evil are no more solid in my mind than them and us. But it was an act of honour. We can negotiate on the ground. Between forces."

"Cease all fire on Coredian forces, this order is immediate and cannot be countermanded at any level of the chain of command. I mean that, Oberst Herschel."

The comm was flipped back to Coredian command staff.

"We thank you for an honourable deed. I will not say good. Good and evil are no more solid in my mind than them and us. But it was an act of honour. We can negotiate on the ground. Between forces."
Moral ambiguity. Great. Master Tilton sighed. "Very well. Between forces."

Master Tilton waited for confirmation of Boozian cease-fire before he, his nephew and apprentice Robert, and the warrior known engimatically known as Hiei took a command LAAT out to the front lines...

OOC: As far as I am aware, the Copen ships can resist most conventional weapons for an extremely limited time, but time enough to duck into the atmosphere and tess out the ships. And since I have orbital platforms and one helluva lot of artillery, I'm going to have to fluid time.

I assume that yer one of Boozia's alternate accounts, so I'll just work from there. Orbital Platforms are considered as targeted along with any vessels. Just so you're aware.

IC: They were making it clear, one by one, occasionally puncuated by one energy signature sparking and dying. But they were making it. And the ships were not sitting idle. Frigates, destroyers, and kight cruisers scattered like agile (comparatively speaking) fish and helped the fight with their long-range torpedoes from beyond the range of the Godulans, while the massive cruisers and battlewagons ducked in and out, engines, arrestors, engines, arrestors, guns blazing in a rhythm that could shatter cities. That was the disadvantage of fixed defence.

But neither did the Godulans sit idle as the Boozian ships attempted to return fire. They recognized the speed and agility of the enemy vessels, noting swiftly that the Quantum Render charged pulses would not be quite as effective against such acrobatic vessels. Torpedo after Torpedo thudded one by one into the ablative shielding around various Towers across the planet, but there were simply too many towers, and from the looks of how little each torpedo damaged the shielding, it would swiftly become apparent that the towers were recieving energy from secondary sources.

And so, the fire slackened momentarily, eventually dwindling to nothing, each tower morphing slightly in the process. However, the lull broke as quickly as it started, the planet entire seeming to shudder slightly under the sheer magnitude of the renewed assault's own recoil. The sky itself lit up with light as massive fireballs and thunderous reports coincided with great sizzling bolts of energy roaring into the sky, visible for some distance even on the daytime side.

These bolts had much further range then the previous bombardment, capable of traveling for entire light-minutes before dispersing. They seemed to move slightly as they traveled, suggesting some form of magnetic-type attraction to enemy vessels, though not to the extent of following fighters around like guided torpedos. No, these bolts did not NEED to follow anything.

On proximity with a targeted vessel, each bolt detonated into a massive concussion shockwave and arcs of disintegrating energy that latched onto nearby ships, stripping shield energy and molecular layers of armor. Protium Arc Disintegrators were the heavy artillery of the Godulan forces, used primarily to buffet and rip at enemy forces as they attempted to approach, depart, dodge, or flop about aimlessly. Their range and 'effect' had seen great use against invaders of the past, and would see use now.

Gun platforms weren't the only target. Shells rained on the enemy as they advanced while the remaining aircraft screamed above them, whirling around the larger spider vehicles, peeling off from burts of fire. A crashing rumble like a fast-moving train filled the air as artilery brought all manner of chemical concoctions down on the enemy infantry. And their was always the good old grape-shot shell, something of a misnomer since the things that came out of Boozia anti-personell weapons tended towards the sharp. Missiles concentrated on the big ones, while a few batteries scatted mines ahead of the advancing troops.

Missiles thudded into ablative shielding on the StarSpiders, giving amusing displays of light and fire to those who cared to watch. In response, the tails of the Starspiders turned upwards and began unleashing torrents of rapid-fire disintegrating energies upon the aircraft overhead, while the main guns continued to pummel right back at the Boozian fortifications.

As for the Chemical weapons, such gases and sprays and viruses fell upon the Kythons like a rain of death... that had absolutely no effect whatsoever. The marching did not slow. The marching did not even hiccup. The grass died though, and the soil would likely be unusable for generations to come, but the Kythons simply continued as though the chemical attack had not even occurred.

As they came over the horizon, the enemy would be hit with a storm like hellfire. Heavy bolters... you couldn't beat a 15mm high-explosive rocket-assisted shrapnel shell for suppressive fire. The bigger enemies could be bealt with the tank cannons, which where much the same, except a lot bigger. And the sub-terrainien minefields were nearly done.

As they closed upon the enemy positions, Kythons fell before conventional attacks, not so much keeling over and dying all nice and clean when overwhelmed by such firepower, but popping like balloons, spreading Kython-stuff all over the landscape. As more died, more infection struck the ground, pooling, coalescing, buzzing and humming with activity until eventually the ground would burst open with disc-shaped fighter-craft that roared into the sky as though they had no need to get to speed. First only a trickle, increasing in volume as the Kythons fell before the enemy artillery. More Kythons would form from the blotches left as Kython corpses, crawling out as if removing oneself from a pool before rejoining the march. Though, only limited reinforcements came through this means. Away from sources of secondary power, the Infectious blotches could not sustain themselves as they could against enemy vessels or as larger self-powering blotches. The infections quickly burned off as they restored some numbers before poofing unto dust.

The Impalers, the smallest of the attackers, suddenly burst forward at phenomenal speeds, their small size belying the tremendous agility they could bring forth as they jumped entire stadium-lengths in single bounds, blades at the ready and snapping to deflect and vaporize enemy bullets and even launch an occasional plasma blade back at the defenders like a blaster bolt before restoring the blade on their arm.

And below the defenders, the thudding seemed to get more insistent. Changing into a thunderous *BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM* that shook the ground more and more as though the ground were being pushed up beneath them...

Know for the diplomatic side of things. The unpleasant bit.

"So these are the rightious, are they? These are our liberators? You want a reason? Okay, we wanted to. Now, give us a reason why we shouldn't! I give you my conditional surrender. Safe passage home, that's all. And we can offer reparations. But if every death must be avenged, I'll let you avenge forever more. No-one's going to stop the killing anytime soon, and especially not you!

"So, noble liberators, is there room for honour up their with truth, justice, and freedom?"

The response was relatively simple.

All we demand is you face the consequences of your actions. It is not your soldiers we seek to kill. It is those who gave them their orders to do what we find so abhorrent.

It is your own fault you followed the Imperials. It is your own fault you came to the aid of their murderous ends. It is your own fault you stand now suddenly alone. There is no honor in the actions you perpetrated here. There is no honor in what you did. You have no right to speak to us of Honor.

We are a gracious people, merciful even. But we will accept NOTHING less than unconditional surrender. We cannot. We will accede nothing. We will, however, GIVE you our word that if you do surrender, your troops will be allowed to depart peacably.

We will NOT, however, stop until that surrender is offered. Lay down your guns. NOW.

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Gotta use a bit of Fluid-time because CW and Boozia posted while I was working on this. Consider this bit as occurring just as the Coredians and Boozians have 'reached accord'.

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The ground, heaving with each resounding thud and the occasional secondary explosion of a mine, suddenly mounded up slightly in several spots. Great gaping piles of dirt and rock coming into existence throughout the Boozian complex.

*KRAKOOM*

Several feet of ground suddenly burst upwards like an earthen geyser several hundred feet high, possibly even over a thousand, raining dirt, gravel, and slabs of limestone upon the defending forces. As the clatter died down, a great roar shook the area, and crystalline talons half again as long as a man latched onto the rim of each gaping newly-made hole and heaved, bringing forth first the head and then the shoulders of massive crystalline dragon forms, shimmering with energy and snarling at the defenders as their razor-bladed wings cleared each hole and flapped once in agitation as they brought their great maws about to speak in unison, same as the voice in the communications but now sounding like it came from amplifiers the size of a house.

"LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS OR BURN IN RIGHTEOUS FIRE. YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS TO COMPLY."

OOC: Fluid timing this.

IC: The Copen fleet had taken considerable damage from the attacks. Even though they had switched from omni-barriers to pin-point barriers, they couldn't block all the fire from the Godulan or Coredian forces. Casualties were high. Several ship were barely in working condition, and those that were only had life support and gravity running, and even against this onslaught, not one of the Copen ships had fired on the Coredian or Godulan ships.

Upon the announcement that the Boozians were surrendering and that they were discussing terms with the Coredians, Feronen had returned to the ship, and was preparing a drop pod that would send him and a squad of ten Copen marines down to the surface to mediate, just in case the terms were not accepted by either side.

"Sir, we're ready when you are," came the announcement from the marine lietenant.

"Alright, boys," replied the Supreme Commander. "Let's go keep things peaceful, like we were assigned to do."

Feronen punched his hand on a button on the side of the pod, and it fired out of the flagship. The pod descended at a rapid pace, eventually hitting the atmosphere. The hull of the pod kept solid, super-heating on the exterior, but keeping its interior at about ten degrees farenheit above room temperature. As the pod hit the upper atmosphere, the pod ignited its retro-thrusters, slowing the pod down to a point were it could deploy its steel chute long enough for it to decrease in speed to engage primary retro-thrusters. The chute popped off as the pod reached a speed of four hundred miles per hour, eventually coming within sight of the meeting area, and slowed down at an increased rate. The pod, moving at nearly fifty miles per hour, hit the ground with a loud thud approximately ten meters from the meeting site, and the pod doors opened to let the occupants out of the confines of the pod.

Feronen stepped out first, flanked by his 'honor guard.' He noticed the large Godulan force, but he was undaunted, keeping his cool even though he knew his men were very nervous.

"Men, stand down," commander Feronen. "We're going to keep peaceful in this situation until the need for violence arises. And remember: not input from the peanut gallery, got it?"

"Sir! Yes sir!" The men knew their orders clear, and they would keep to themselves until needed.

Now all they had to do was wait.

OOC: Gah, I didn't make things clear enough, I see. I only said my escorts were agile in comparison to capships. By galactic standards, none of them are particularly acrobatic. "Orbital platforms" was simply refering to anything in orbit that could use sensors and weapons, including ships. By "chemical concoctions" I meant the various chemical based explosives and incinerators, not an actual chemical weapon.

IC: Weapons were thrown down, and the troops crawled as far out of vehicles as was possible in ten seconds. Sometimes under orders, sometimes out of the will to live, the fire stopped. But in one of the forts, one soldier, a grizzled looking major lacking a left arm, half marched and half staggered towards the nearest burrower, his friends, peers, superiors and subordinates backing away. The man had probably cracked with the shock, they concluded.

"You know, a long time ago, I was an Ober-Leutnant in a FlaK company..."

Definately insane.

"And on a far away planet in somewhere called the Cassiopa galaxy or something, I rember seeing things just like these. We burned cities there. No objection. In fact, I seem to recall you doing something that can't have been all together healthy for the local civvies..."

He was standing right in front of the thing now, some of the more squeemish soldiers starting to look a little pale in anticipation as his voice crescendoed.

"So tell me, if honour has friend and foe distinction now, where can I get me the guidance device?"

OOC: I know, I know. Have them beam in or something. Ha'taks are good for that, hehe!

IC:
We need to talk...

Those four simple words conveyed the Prime Minister's voice over the rivers of the Force. And I agreed with the statement.

Yes, we do. I answered.

OOC: Whoa, this thread wasn't going anywhere, I get my identity stolen IRL and have to deal with that and then everyone posts? What's up with that?

This is basically a placeholder post until I get that cleared up. Sorry for the crappiness. CW, don't get too far ahead of me, should be able to poke my head up later in the week...

-------------------------------

There was a momentary pause in the telepathic conversation as Master Whitfield traced, through the Force, the Light Side Emperor's location.

Unfortunately, I was summoned back to White Diamond to deal with certain...issues...while you were incommunicado. I can be there in three hours. Hold the line, please.

With that, Whitfield scurried off to abuse his position of Prime Minister of EWT hijack the fastest military shuttle he could get his hands on...

The rumble of the guns and the rhythmic marching came to an abrupt stop as soon as guns clattered to the ground, plunging the area into a deafening silence save for the one Boozian officer.

A single humanoid Kython emerged from the gaping hole that had spawned the colossal draconian Sentinel. Standing slightly over seven feet tall and adorned with multiple shimmering discs of crystal that crackled with electricity, it hovered before the Boozian Major with a strange grin. Its mouth did not move as it spoke, instead vibrating the air around it directly to produce a hollow, metallic voice that regardless radiated power.

YOU burned cities there. We did no such thing. All of our anger in that campaign was focused on military targets. We have never, and will never, endorse genocide. So many others throw away the lives of civilians without regard for consequence, and it saddens us to no end that they continue to get away with it. We are not one of these others however, and it is insulting that you would believe such of us.

The sentinel behind the Avatar scanned the surrounding troops with glowing eyes.

We never used the Sentinels either. They are better suited to ground operations than space-borne theatres, and the only landings we made on the Cassiopeian worlds was only what was necessary to accept each world's peaceable surrender. It was an invasion by many, to take over an entire galaxy. We deemed it a mission to remove from the Cassiopeians the government that had placed them in such unfortunate circumstances, others, such as yourself and even a good number of then-allies, took it as an opportunity to lay waste to entire worlds, after all, funeral pyres need no occupation forces, do they?

When we were in the Federation, we prevented a great many attacks against even the Imperials we so fervently loathe that would have cost millions, possibly billions of civilian lives for no other reason than a simple tactical advantage. We were not afforded the same courtesy, but then that is what separates us.

That is what makes us different, it is recognized. We will not protest the actions of those who take the lives of noncombat folk in other campaigns. But we will REMEMBER. We will remember ALL OF THEM. We will remember all those who commit such atrocities, so that if combat is joined on another field between us and them, it will be understood that we will neither give nor accept any quarter and that they will understand the wrath of the Godulans. We might not be capable of stopping it all, everywhere. There is no point. However, we can still make the perpetrators feel the sting of Godulan wrath when next we meet on hostile terms. Our memories are long. Our vengeance is strong.

The Avatar's face shifted into an open-mouthed silent cry of agony, its gaze shifting skyward and energy arcing about its body.

But we still know mercy. We mourn the loss of each and every life inflicted by our retribution. We regret each death, but it will not stay our hand. For even soldiers have some measure of innocence to them. They are ordered to perform the actions desired by their commanders. If they disobey they are punished. It is the commanders who have the option to avoid civilian casualties. To order discriminating fire. To ignore civilians while in pursuit of the opposing forces. It is in the power of the commanders to avoid the battles altogether.

No, sir. Our honor knows no distinction between friend and foe. It knows RESPONSIBILITY, a concept far more easily abandoned.

OOC: Keep in mind, the Godulans never actually GOT to any major inhabited Cassiopeian worlds because Hatarian TCG kept bloody ignoring everything before we got too far in. In the end, if I remember correctly, it was just assumed that various stretches of the galaxy were laid fallow by various forces, but I claimed no such thing, and for the most part I made certain to take many steps to avoid even having to think about attacking civilians.

"I see the Godulans are ensuring Boozian compliance." Hiei noted as the LAAT landed several meters from the meeting site.

"And I would have thought they'd take the opportunity to slay everyone." Young Bobby shook his head. "Perhaps they, for all their intimidation, still have their honorable moments."

"Perhaps. But now is the time to use what is normally referred to as 'diplomacy'." Master Tilton said, hopping down from the gunship. He noticed the Copen delegate, of course. Something tells that this meeting with Feronen would be quite interesting.

The Jedi Master hiked his woolen cloak closer to his body to keep the cold away and then spoke. "Who is the commander of the Boozian forces here?"

OOC Clarification: As for the invasion of TCG, the final consensus between me an TCG was that TCG was driven away from NE borders, but the NE war effort promptly fell apart again due to internal conflict. TCG gave up on the idea due to TREMENDOUS casualties (well, an Emperor class USD and its escourting formations, plus everything it was carrying) as well as the significant military assistance given to NE back when I was still good at diplomacy. It was the best we could do, he wanted to blanket ignore the whole thing and all of us.

As for what others did... well, that's up to them.


oh, and I'm not dead. I'll post soon.

OOC: Whoa, this thread wasn't going anywhere, I get my identity stolen IRL and have to deal with that and then everyone posts? What's up with that?

This is basically a placeholder post until I get that cleared up. Sorry for the crappiness. CW, don't get too far ahead of me, should be able to poke my head up later in the week...

-------------------------------

There was a momentary pause in the telepathic conversation as Master Whitfield traced, through the Force, the Light Side Emperor's location.

Unfortunately, I was summoned back to White Diamond to deal with certain...issues...while you were incommunicado. I can be there in three hours. Hold the line, please.

With that, Whitfield scurried off to abuse his position of Prime Minister of EWT hijack the fastest military shuttle he could get his hands on...
Alright. I sent back. Now all we needed to do was wait for him. Nevertheless, I liked getting reports back from the front. Seems that Nova Boozia has surrendered to Coredian and Godulan forces. A nugget of victory amidst a sea of defeats is quite rare indeed...

OOC: So, are we assuming that the bit where I had to pull off a world as you Kythonised it is retconned out of existance? I don't really feel comfortable posting IC until I'm sure what you mean.

OOC: I didn't Kythonize jack. My movements in the whole TCG invasion were geared towards dissolving the Cassiopeian government so Balrogga would have to abort his G'tan'dehr Genocide War as his targets would no longer count as 'Cassiopeian' and the conditions required to stop would be fulfilled.

I did infect/absorb TCG's Ultra Star Destroyer alongside Balrogga, but no planetoids were eaten in the making of that RP storyline.

OOC: Well, I'm presuming that's what's been retconned in IC, since this (http://http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=476553&page=14&highlight=Nova+Boozia) seems to contradict that comment if you meant it OOC. Just scroll down till you find your name. And forgive the crude method, but apparently I can't quote from locked threads.

OOC: Yeah I think that one got retconned big time.

OOC: Are we going to post or are we going to keep talking? Boozia, you have a post to reply to:

"I see the Godulans are ensuring Boozian compliance." Hiei noted as the LAAT landed several meters from the meeting site.

"And I would have thought they'd take the opportunity to slay everyone." Young Bobby shook his head. "Perhaps they, for all their intimidation, still have their honorable moments."

"Perhaps. But now is the time to use what is normally referred to as 'diplomacy'." Master Tilton said, hopping down from the gunship. He noticed the Copen delegate, of course. Something tells that this meeting with Feronen would be quite interesting.

The Jedi Master hiked his woolen cloak closer to his body to keep the cold away and then spoke. "Who is the commander of the Boozian forces here?"

OOC: Soz, computer difficulties.

IC: It was a scene of defeat, so pure and obvious that a photograph of it would appear in every respectable history textbook for the next few decades, or so reckoned the Kriegsberichter. Some soldiers waved holed and battered standards and sang the regimental march, usually out of tune. Some lay in dressing stations, resigned to the pain of their treatment and seldom bothering to scream or wimper. A few packed their bags for the coming march. Worst of all, some just lay there, purposeless and staring at the sky.

Haldwische's coat was torn, his cap lost and his insignia blackened. He might have been an Oberst or a Major or an an unusually old Hauptmann. Reddish patches dotted the remains oh his uniform. He had his arms around the shoulders of two troopers, who between them carried a rifle to support him. Stretchers were for those who really needed them.

"Gentlemen? You wanted an interview?"

The Jedi Master actually felt pity for the beaten men. For so long he has seen the enemy only as faceless goons of the Empire. But now...their lives were in the hands of him and his allies. He sighed.

"Of course. First, what is your name?" Master Tilton asked.

"Generalfeldmarschall Haldwische."

Ernst Haldwische had never been good at judging people by appearance and through a strange mix of cause and effect was deeply untrusting of it as a method. But, for no reason other then pure curiosity, he wondered what the Coredian was thinking.

Perhaps he really did think of them as animals i an inconveniant place and an inconveniant time. Perhaps that was what he wanted to think, but seeing the bad guys in the flesh was making him wonder. Perhaps it was vice-versa, and he hated them deep down, but dared not sink to their own level after the earlier comments Ernst had made about who was really right and wrong. Maybe he saw them as beaten soldiers.

Beaten, betrayed, left in the lurch by a distant and nominal leadership, the popular leader missing an arm by no fault of the enemy, plans frustrated at every turn by "friend" as much as foe. Some withdrew. Some cracked. Many sat their, getting angrier and angrier.

Ernst had seen it before, in many armies. He called it "Freikorps syndrome". It was about duty and trust. When defeat left trust betrayed and duty unfulfilled, some men were unwilling to march home and give up arms. Somehow the emptiness of a defeat or even a victory which left such a scene as this was a thousand times worse than shaking your enemies hands over your surrender after firing to the last shot.

No-one was sure who the enemy was now, but when they made up their minds, it wouldn't be a tale of heroism for anyone.

The Avatar, its initial assessment of surrender proceedings concluded, stalked up to the Feldmarschall and the Jedi Master. "We would like to request permission to assist in tending to any wounded. As hostilities have been terminated, it is necessary to ensure that no secondary casualties are inflicted."

Turning to Hiei, it continued. "Recognized. Our primary condition for surrender was for the lives of the commanders of the force in question. It was they who executed the orders to come here and they who gave the orders for the soldiers to attack. Responsibility for any and all civilian deaths by means presented by Nova Boozian assault force conferred upon them. Recognized. It was not the Godulans who lost any civilians in the attack. Recognized. Casualties were wholly Coredian. Recognized. Decision regarding terminal fate of Nova Boozian Assault Force leadership personnel conferred to Coredian authorities as per standard procedure. Do with them as you will. Recognized. Hostilities terminated, military protocols suspended until further notice. We are all just folk now."

Turning back to the Generalfeldmarschall. "Mister Haldwische, perhaps the Coredians will be lenient, in light of any circumstances you would present to them. It is not our position to care. You were part of an assault that claimed a great many lives and caused a great deal of damage. For this alone, we would kill you. But it was not our people who died. As such, it is not our place to exact penance. It was not you who was responsible for the Darkening of our skies. The flaying of our soldiers' minds was not your doing. No. That was the Emperor. And we shall reserve special consequences for him when the time is right and it shall be glorious.

"Though your, however potentially 'former', Imperial Overlords pulled out of the system entirely, leaving you to pick up the pieces, were it our prerogative we would make them pay even more bitterly for what they have wrought here today. You and your compatriots, and all of your countrymen and women, are little more than sheep with an Imperial Brand. In the eyes of the Emperor little more than wool and mutton. We can only feel exasperation at the naivete shown when other nations attempt to add themselves to the Imperials' Glorious Future of ignominy and oppression. It is when they begin to realize what they have gotten themselves into, and begin to take steps to separate themselves from their predicament, that we can only smile in the knowledge that people can learn.

"If what is purported, that you seek to distance yourselves from the Imperials, a single bit of advice: You might look into evacuating your homeworld. There is no telling what devices might have been surreptitiously implanted in the planetary crust of one or more of your worlds by Imperial hands. It is their way. It is... their means."

Ernst pushed off the rifle with both hands and wobbled, visibly. One of the troopers caught him, but he waved her away, stepping forward, slow and shaky but a picture of defiance, towards the avatar.

"You do like looking down on people, don't you? Perhaps you need a fround view to get the whole picture. But still, we could use a bir of medical help. I suppose I'm not allowed to ask, since you want to kill me for commiting declared assault?"

"Perhaps it is shell-shock that has hindered your auditory senses," the Avatar replied, its expression grim and stern. "The battle is over. You have surrendered. Our condition is met, and we place your terminal fate in the hands of the Coredians. It is not our place to exact penance for that which we did not suffer from. If they show you mercy, so be it. We shall not argue.

"Like many, however, you ignore our words and heed only the tone. We speak to you of finally understanding that the Imperials see you as little more than resources to be abused, and you believe that we are looking down on you. We speak to you of understanding that the Imperials may well have hypermatter bombs inserted within the crust of one or more of your worlds, and you see 'Arrogance'. This is not arrogance. This is not hubris. This is many years of watching nations allied to us past and present fall under the Imperial dominion, and upon seeking to escape such hegemony, are destroyed without a second thought. This is experience, sir."

Ernst pushed off the rifle with both hands and wobbled, visibly. One of the troopers caught him, but he waved her away, stepping forward, slow and shaky but a picture of defiance, towards the avatar.

"You do like looking down on people, don't you? Perhaps you need a fround view to get the whole picture. But still, we could use a bir of medical help. I suppose I'm not allowed to ask, since you want to kill me for commiting declared assault?"

"No one is killing anyone at this time." Master Tilton stepped in. He looked at the Avatar. "Medical assistance is granted."

He turned back to Ernst. "It is true that my government will demand reparations for the deaths of the millions of civilians in this war. However, it is also true that there is nothing you can really do, short of reviving the dead, to fully repay us for your actions. And, it is also true that it Emperor Palpatine that is ultimately responsible for everything that has happened so far. Him and his high command. Therefore, I am not going to order your execution, or that of your men. More blood spilt will merely grant us more hatred."

Tilton looked over the sorry excuse for men. "General. Believe me when I tell you that I could have chosen to kill you and I would be well within my rights to do so. But I let you live so that you would be shown Coredian mercy and that you will speak of that mercy to others in your nation and beyond."

Prime Minister Whitfield must have broken the speed record from the Milky Way to Konoha, because he managed to arrive in just over an hour. With him he brought paperwork, directives of Parliament, and the amended budget that Parliament had passed, and he had signed, in the wake of the unexpected post-Konoha capital gains tax receipt windfall.

He knew all too well that certain items within that budget would be of great interest to the Coredians, and it was therefore with great urgency that he hurried to the Konoha Military Command, where Daniel seemed to be waiting for him.

Master Daniel, I am arrived here...with presents. You will want to come down to meet me...

I smiled when I heard his thought-speak, reached out into the Force and...

*POOF!*

I stood in front of the Prime Minister, the smoke receding away quickly. I lead him back through the command center. "How have you been? I presume these are the same presents I learned about when going through the usual mounds of paperwork, right?"

I smiled when I heard his thought-speak, reached out into the Force and...

*POOF!*

I stood in front of the Prime Minister, the smoke receding away quickly. I lead him back through the command center. "How have you been? I presume these are the same presents I learned about when going through the usual mounds of paperwork, right?"

"Oh, it gets better. Budgets and directives from the closed session of our Parliament." Whitfield flipped through one of the thick binders he had on his person for a moment until he found what he was looking for...one of the line-items he had highlighted, and presented it to Daniel...

"Parliament passed an amended budget in the face of the unexpected capital gains windfall...and there's something you're going to be interested in..."

The Prime Minister allowed the Emperor's eyes to fall upon the highlighted line before continuing. "REINSTATE IMMORTAL II PROJECT...$696,340,000,000" jumped out in yellow.

"Such an appropriation is an indication that Parliament expects the keel of the prototype to be laid this fiscal year," Whitfield continued. "Which ends in four and a half months. The second generation of Immortal is slated to be a tri-reactor vessel with slightly more than double the reactor output of the original, which will result in significant gains in shielding and armament, as well as have the ability, based on reverse-engineering the cloaking devices on the Warbirds that appeared over Konoha, to cloak. I am directed to inquire if CoreWorlds would be interested in participating in such a project, and to what extent you would be willing to engage in such participation. And this is only the beginning..."

"...And on an unrelated note, I'll teach you thermal weather induction techniques if you'll teach me Force-teleportation." Whitfield grinned.

"Oh, it gets better. Budgets and directives from the closed session of our Parliament." Whitfield flipped through one of the thick binders he had on his person for a moment until he found what he was looking for...one of the line-items he had highlighted, and presented it to Daniel...

"Parliament passed an amended budget in the face of the unexpected capital gains windfall...and there's something you're going to be interested in..."

The Prime Minister allowed the Emperor's eyes to fall upon the highlighted line before continuing. "REINSTATE IMMORTAL II PROJECT...$696,340,000,000" jumped out in yellow.

To say that I was surprised by the quickness of the economic recovery was like saying lightning is attracted to high places. It's the truth either way. "Looks like your economy is recovering quite nicely if you managed to find that amount of money so quickly..."

"Such an appropriation is an indication that Parliament expects the keel of the prototype to be laid this fiscal year," Whitfield continued. "Which ends in four and a half months. The second generation of Immortal is slated to be a tri-reactor vessel with slightly more than double the reactor output of the original, which will result in significant gains in shielding and armament, as well as have the ability, based on reverse-engineering the cloaking devices on the Warbirds that appeared over Konoha, to cloak. I am directed to inquire if CoreWorlds would be interested in participating in such a project, and to what extent you would be willing to engage in such participation. And this is only the beginning..."
I knew a young woman who would be positively swooning over being able to work on a project like that. Well, two of them, one being my cousin and the other being my sister-in-law. I grinned. "Definitely only the beginning. Lately, I've been getting designs for a new ship of our own, officially to be the Star Destroyer mark Five."

I popped a folder of my own into existence. Teleport does have its uses! "Preliminary designs include a multilayered energy-absorbing molecular shields with a stronger projectile-resistant hull. Weapons include heavy turbolasers, PPCs, beamlasers, rail/coilguns and pulse lasers. Engines will be vector thrust models (see appendix A for Konoha engines and B for the Battlestar class engines) for increased mobility. The 'bridge' will be inside the ship while the tower will remain but become an observation deck. We're still shopping for a reactor system but I bet that tri-reactor system of yours will be close to the mark."

"To say that we would like to join this project would be like saying cats like to play with mice." I smiled. Certainly an understatement. "We can even throw in the new molecular shields in the bargain."

"...And on an unrelated note, I'll teach you thermal weather induction techniques if you'll teach me Force-teleportation." Whitfield grinned.
"Haha!" I laughed. "That, my friend, is what we like to call equivalent exchange."

"We'll have to swap Force lessons at the end of the...aggressive negotiations," Whitfield replied. "And, as you know, Admiral Riordan has been credited with lifting Evil Woody Thoughts out of its post-Jurai dezgra, which in turn had a very large effect on our economy indeed. The business day following the Battle of Konoha alone saw our stock market post record-breaking gains of twenty-one percent, on record volume, and generated about three trillion credits in capital gains receipts. The markets have since reposted that gain, up just over forty percent since the battle. That puts said markets within...oh, about fifteen percent of pre-civil war parity. The budget pumped a huge chunk of the remainder into the purchase of construction equipment from Godular...to the tune of building more ships than we can crew."

The Prime Minister paused for a moment to allow Daniel to absorb that before adding, "Which brings me to the second proposal: We lease some of the White Diamond Drive Yards' shipbuilding capacity to you."

I felt like a little kid on Christmas Day and it showed on my face. "Wow. Just wow. How many ships can the shipyards build per year?"

"Let's see. Of the Immortal class, twelve at a time; under emergency mobilization conditions they'll take six months to build. Of Knossos or comparable class, twenty at a time; build time is three months. The WD Drive Yards are also capable of building one Super Star Destroyer at a time though this capacity has never been utilized. Our needs, including the prototype, would consist of six to seven of the Immortal slots and about twelve of the Knossos slots..."

"That would mean that the other six can be utilized to make Coredian Immortals and other assorted craft that we need. All in all, I suggest a six trillion credit investment, all coming from the defense budget. The budget can handle it with ease." I grinned. "And speaking of Super Star Destroyers, I'm wondering which of the Huntaerian-made ones will you want?"

"Our engineers have expressed an interest in reverse-engineering the Megadalon specifically; we were curious as to how a command ship of that size could survive the first hit we leveled against it. Needless to say we wish to reverse-engineer those shields and...improve upon them like we are so famous for doing. Not to mention their turbolaser and gatling weaponry which I am sure we will find uses for..."

The Avatar gave a wry smirk, then nodded to the Feldmarschal. "We were actually asking him, but he did not seem to pick up on that. Still, permission is permission."

With that, the Avatar turned and walked away. Several Kython Impalers hurled themselves into the area, and with a shimmering of electricity and a great humming buzz of activity, their crystalline bodies transformed into humanoids, male and female, that began to move towards the nearest concentrations of wounded soldiers, not hovering, or stalking, or marching, but a simple rushed walk that could be recognized as somewhat 'Doctor-ish'.

"Boozian soldiers," The Avatar said, his voice suddenly amplified as though through a loudspeaker, "These individuals will tend to your wounded. Please provide them with everything they will require in order to mend your hurts."

Sanitats-Unteroffizier Klaroth didn't look up from his work until he had finished pulling the blood soaked shrapnel out into the light and carefully compared it to the armour plate it had some crom, lying on the ground beside. Then he glanced up, motioned to the store, and because even now he was just being carried along by the currant, he felt it couldn't hurt, "The head only goes round 90 degrees." It wasn't very funny, but it might be interesting to see what they did. He went back to feeling for the fragment of uniform the shrapnel had taken with it when a pair of troopers with blood stained-hankies inexpertly secured to one arm.

"Broken back, sir, found him in the bottom of a foxhole, slumped, stopped moving and left for dead."


Haldwische looked the avatar up and down. Who had programmed this thing? Preumably the archetypal genius with no friends. That just about made sense.

"Tone can be very important. Tone defines words. Tone tells me the meaning just as much. Take "hello". The "hello" you say to a friend means " Greetings, it's is good to see you". The hello you say to your comm when it's spiting static and all the other guys have vanished means "OhgodohgodohgodsomeonepleaseanswerIdon'twanttodieit'sjustabaddreamwakeupwakeup!"

"Our engineers have expressed an interest in reverse-engineering the Megadalon specifically; we were curious as to how a command ship of that size could survive the first hit we leveled against it. Needless to say we wish to reverse-engineer those shields and...improve upon them like we are so famous for doing. Not to mention their turbolaser and gatling weaponry which I am sure we will find uses for..."
I nodded. "Of course, we get the Obliterator and will figure out how to reverse engineer the weapons that ship managed to pull off. Now, what about the smaller cruisers?"

=====

Medics from the Coredian side also went to help, lead by a Medic-nin, a shinobi with medical powers. Tents were set up and bacta patches were passed around. The most wounded of the Boozians looked like they had to be field-operated, but that was what the medic-nin was for.

"General, if you'll come to my tent -after you feel a little better- we can hammer out a more formal surrender treaty." Master Tilton said to the Boozian commander.

Though the Avatar had already walked away, words seemingly formed in his mind, a truly stern and clipped.

Incorrect, and also poor choice of analogy. Tone means nothing unless we want it to. How you take the tone is your prerogative but such is no excuse to ignore the words that are spoken. To ignore the facts due to preconceptions of perception is the mark of a poor commander, if not a dead one. You WILL understand this, and we find it surprising that you have not done so by now. Now maybe next time it would be more productive to pay attention to what we say, rather than how we say it.

Oh, and no man programmed us. We were once human, just like you. Colored perception again, hmm? You will definitely need to remedy that.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Godulan 'Shapers' moved first towards the most wounded soldiers with an intensity of purpose that seemingly parted crowds before them. Focusing directly on the wounds themselves, they used no visible technology, instead laying hands on the wound and rather visibly patching hurts through some form of molecular reconstruction. Blood vessels would seal up. Gaping wounds would shrink and vanish with no visible scar tissue. Bone fractures would mend. Infections would be cleansed nigh-instantly. Shrapnel would be removed as if crawling out under its own power.

With each prolonged healing, the 'Shaper' would inform the patient that "This... is going to hurt like hell. No point in sugarcoating it. I hope you got some painkillers in your system." Especially in the case of spinal injuries, the unfortunate necessity of reconnecting nervous tissue meant that the general sensation was of somebody playing the patient's spinal cord like a harp. Afterwards though, the spine would be mended, the nervous system restored, and very likely the healed soldier's array of curses fully worn out.

Klaroth gave the kind of cynical half-grin you get from working with people who's legs are often missing.

"As they say, the best medicine is always the nastiest tasting."


Ernst new techniques for being mind-read. He quickly concentrated most of his conscious thought on vibrant memories and emotions, sensitive information slipping down into his long-term memory while the increasingly violent thoughts of the present distracted the attentions of any probing life-form. But he wasn't willing to bow out yet.

You make it sound like the meaning assocsiated with your tone is at right angles to that of your words, you refuse to justify the poor nature of the analogy. And saying someone has the mark of something they clearly aren't will never help your debating technique. Making a unverified statement compounds the problem. Maybe you should join the after-school club.

You make it sound like the meaning assocsiated with your tone is at right angles to that of your words, you refuse to justify the poor nature of the analogy. And saying someone has the mark of something they clearly aren't will never help your debating technique. Making a unverified statement compounds the problem. Maybe you should join the after-school club.

Your analogy concerns circumstance, not perception, and is thereby flawed in the nature that multiple explanations exist for the reasoning behind lack of responsiveness unrelated to the point you sought to make. Such lends credence to our position that you are allowing preconception to cloud your perceptions. We offer you advice and you become offended because we speak in what you consider to be an arrogant tone.

We did not define the nature of the fault within your choice of analogy at first because it was hoped that you would have a better understanding of your own argument.

We did not tell you that you are a poor commander. We told you that operating according to Preconcieved notions of how things should be or how things are, rather than operating with an unbiased and un-tainted view is among the greatest signs OF a poor commander. We did not call you a poor commander, we told you that you are displaying the signs, and that you should strive to remedy the situation.

Now, if you would please be so kind as to put your own ego aside for a moment and bloody well

LISTEN

to what we told you before, rather than getting annoyed at the volume or inflection of our speech patterns, you might realize that we were actually complimenting you and offering you advice on future actions. Please try to pay attention next time. We would hate to have to take back our words.

And with that, any percievable sign of the Avatar's mental presence vanished. The Avatar itself beelined towards a group of wounded soldiers and began chattering purposefully with a pair of medics before setting to work.

Another Godulan Shaper walked up, eying the Feldmarschal's missing arm with a curious intent. Female in appearance, her long auburn hair and kind features seemed a stark contrast with the hard and angular face and crystalline body armor of the Avatar.

"We've moved up to restoring amputations. As none of the patients are critical in this nature, we were curious if you would... like that back."

Ernst grinned. Or perhaps it was a grimace? Not even he could tell.

"Backed down... the old offend everyone in a square mile is as good as ever."

He looked up, sharply, as the female approached.

"It'd be appreciated... I could live with the better class of claw, but those nerve-endings are killing me."

The Shaper smiled slightly. "He didn't back down, you just stopped paying attention, and he had other business to deal with. I suspect that had you truly offended General Arcturus I would be replacing more than just one arm. And I can only dread how many buckets we would need if that had been Maximillian, so you should count your blessings there. Still, you just had your collective behind handed to you on a silver platter, so some frayed nerves and hot tempers are to be expected, so we don't see too far into your old salt schtick..."

She took the Feldmarschal's arm stump in both hands, gently holding with one while making curious movements with the fingers of the other. "Of course, Arcturus is somewhere around 540 years old, so trying to hold age over someone's head is a little difficult...

"I must warn you, this is going to hurt like hell."

Of course, that warning, despite the emphatic at the end, would seem like an understatement. A strange pulsing radiated from the Shaper's feet as molecules of sand and metal were discorporated and funneled through her body into the working fingers of her right hand, which had somehow picked up speed until they were rather literally a blur.

Suddenly, the flesh at the end of the Feldmarschal's arm sliced open in an X-pattern, though no bleeding seemed evident, with each flap spreading out as though laying out a base work for the rest of the arm. Trails of dust began to drift onto the arm, focusing first on the bones of the arm, crafting new skeletal structures that bore an almost metallic sheen, though they remained organic in general appearance. Next came muscles, nervous pathways, and blood vessels, snaking out of the stump as though being pulled into place by unseen cables and machinery, although the musculature itself seemed to look unlike what normal humans would be born with. Finally came the nerve endings themselves, and the skin. In a manner that looked like a catastrophic acid burn progressing in reverse, and feeling very much like it looked, the final layer simply... manifested itself above the other layers. Even body hair and fingernails were restored, though the arm would be tingling for some time to come. All in all, however, the arm looked like it had never left the Feldmarschal's arm. There was not even a scar to mark where the old flesh ended and the new flesh began.

The Shaper let go of the arm and stepped back, looking the arm over before nodding, pleased with her work. "That should just about do it. You will be wanting to put that in ice for a bit. The pins and needles sensation you're currently feeling will die down faster if you try to numb it up a bit, though I suspect that's the last thing on your mind right now. Genetic markers have been kept in place, so there should be no issues about rejection. The muscles are far more efficient now, so you should avoid arm-wrestling matches as you might hurt your opponent. We also took the liberty of reinforcing the bones of your arm, so they're lighter and stronger now. Full range of motion though you shoud be keeping it stationary for a while until the pins and needles go down, remember to clip the fingernails, don't crack your knuckles, so on and so forth. Any questions?"

The Jedi Master looked on in interest at the Shaper's prowess, feeling like a child even in his 50s. "The exact method is different, but that technique appears quite similar to Alchemy..."

"Yeah... for such an amazingly advanced species, where's your anaesthetics? It's not hard, lots of beer does the trick, or a solid blow to the head. And thanks for all the stuff. Maybe I should try harder next time, I can get it done to my other three. But I don't quite follow you. Old salt schtick?"

"And as to the butts... come back when I've got a full strength unit in sane climate and haven't just been stabbed in the back. Until then, don't boast about what was effectively a mop-up. You'd be stealing credit."

By way of elaboration, he gestured at Tilton.

"Well, its not that we do not anesthetize, so much as it simply would not work. In order for us to make certain that the nerves are working properly we have to ensure that each one gets a proper feedback signal, which means we have to stimulate each and every one. With cloning and such, it isn't so much of a problem, though it takes so much longer. We just rebuilt your arm from scratch in two minutes. Doing it that fast and with that much fabrication, I daresay you would not want your sensory reception to be spotty."

"As for the old salt comment, its basically you trying to out-reason a man who has been general-ing for the last half-millenium. Fought against Chronosians, Imperials, even those we later, but no longer, called allies. He was present when the Chronotheurge annihilated our world of Terivine. He has been through shit, and the one thing we have all learned from the loss of Terivine is that outward appearances and disposition... mean jack shit.

"The Chronosians were thought to be our mortal enemies, yet they came to aid us, while many of our allies sat back and lounged around while a world of innocents died. A man can speak in a friendly voice of silk and sugar and still stab you in the back, while another can speak as though he wishes to kill you but also save your life without hesitation. Would you still be so eager to embrace your friend and shun your enemy?

"And if you seek a true rematch, you need only seek us out. Thorn is always open. I am certain we could fit you in."

The Shaper gave the Coredian Ambassador a slightly mischievous grin before walking out with a chuckle.

Master Press Tilton smiled knowingly back at the Godulan Avatar before turning his attention back on to the General. "Now if you will come with me to my HQ tent, there are some refreshments and water for you. As well as it will be a good place to more fully hammer out the proceedings."

With that, Master Tilton flourished, stretching his arm outward towards the tent. His apprentice and nephew Bobby and dark-clad Demonhunter Hiei looked on calmly, although Bobby had a slight vibe of boredom about him. Teenagers are no different the galaxy over.

=====

Konoha

Meanwhile, preparations were under way for the retaking of Jurai. The fleet was attended to by numerous fleet tenders and supply ships, and crew of the CIDF (Coredian Interstellar Defense Force, the navy) and soldiers of the CIMC (Coredian Interstellar Marine Corps) kissed their loved ones goodbye before heading to their assignments.

Acclaimators and Venators on the ground of Konoha waited patiently for soldiers and mecha to load onto their ships while the Third Fleet lined up to prepare for deployment. All the Admiral really needed now was to recieve the word from the Emperor himself.

Speaking of the Emperor, I looked over the plans while Whitfield seemed to look through his folders for the number of smaller cruisers captured during the Second Battle of Konoha. All in all, it was a busy place indeed.

I nodded. "Of course, we get the Obliterator and will figure out how to reverse engineer the weapons that ship managed to pull off. Now, what about the smaller cruisers?"

Master Whitfield thought for a moment. "I am not sure about the exact quantity of salvageable Huntaerian vessels involved but I would imagine that we would split said cruisers fifty-fifty. Regarding salvageable Coredian ships, naturally you should get first crack at those; I do not believe that there are any salvageable Woodian ships to worry about. That said, I am aware of a very large quantity of space debris in Konoha orbit, some of which is Coredian and some of which is Huntaerian; therefore while Evil Woody Thoughts has recyclers to salvage the debris itself, I would imagine that a remittance of seventy or so percent of said debris to CoreWorlds would be fair."

"Now that said, we are interested in procuring certain technological items for the Immortal II project. Namely molecular shielding and beamlasers, and as we intend to take full advantage of the tactic that Admiral Riordan used in the new design, any coolant technology that you may have. We are fully intent on reverse-engineering the Empire's derivitaves of advanced turbolaser batteries and gatling weaponry, in addition to their shielding systems. In exchange we can offer you full access to our Warbirds and, if our military receives approval for its proposal to produce transphasic seismic torpedoes, we will grant you rights to produce them as well."

I gave a smile. "That would be great. As always, you have your people contact my people and we can delegate all that we need to do to our subordinates. In the meantime, let's take a look at the plan we have so far."

"First of all, we have allies in the system in the form of No Endorse. With them and our recon forces, we have learned that Imperial forces are fleeing the system by the lot and if the current trend continues, we expect Imperial forces to be depleted by the time we get there. Since this is a very suspicious move by the Empire, we are operating on the premise that it's a trap of some kind. Worse case scenario is one involving the Death Star and the Imperial Fleet returning to kick our asses. That is why the Third Fleet will be sent first. Due to major recent changes - you'll find a report on the Third Fleet's changes in the folder I gave you (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=497541) - we feel that the Third Fleet should be the fleet to spring any trap they find. We wait an hour or two for any sign of a trap.

If there is no trap, then I will be moving in with the Battlestar Coredia, along with the Sixth, Seventh and a detachment of the 8th Fleets to secure the Jurai system, including Devon and Haven, our two major colonies there. Both planets have escaped destruction, thank the Force. It'd be a nice touch if the Woodian fleet and the Transylvanian fleet would flank the main forces coming in.

If there is a trap, then we will do the following:

1. We move in behind the Imperials and hit them with the combined allied fleet from there, crippling as many engines as we possibly can, especially the Executor's.

2. Our primary target will be the Death Star's superlaser, so if at all possible, we will strike immediately and quickly before the superlaser kills too many ships. After that, it's a matter of combining all our allied firepower and concentrating on the Death Star's defenses. It is highly likely that the Death Star would have fixed the old weaknesses so we'll have to either wear it down to the core and then blow it up that way or get lucky and find another weakness to toss a proton torpedo in. After that, it's a matter of dealing with the escorts."

I smiled at that. Wouldn't it be ironic if the Death Star was destroyed by yet another Jedi-tossed proton torpedo? The Empire might as well give up building the things if that happened again.

"3. If the primary commandship is the Executor rather than the Death Star, then the Third Fleet will concentrate on the escorts while the Sixth, Seventh and allied fleets bombard the ship to oblivion. Again, after that is mopping up.

4. If both primary commandships are available, then we'd have to be more careful here. But one of my commanders found a unique solution to that problem:

After the Battle of Konoha, our total number of superlaser stations are down to one hundred and twenty. We take half of the stations and we tow them with us to Jurai. Then we concentrate all the superlasers and Artillery Star Destroyers on the Executor first, then we deal with the Death Star the same way. In fact, that's what I figure we should do as part of our overall strategy to destroy the Death Star and other command ships."

Before the current war with the Empire started, we had fifty superlaser stations at Konoha and Jurai respectively. Another hundred were scattered among our Coredian planetary assets. After we free Jurai, one of our important issues will be to replenish and perhaps increase the superlaser station numbers and give them additional defenses especially against enemy starbombers.

Speaking of superlasers, I wondered if the Woodians have used their PPCs in their defense stations the same way we are about to do with our superlasers. I made a mental note to ask the Prime Minister when we're not distracted.

Anyway, on with the plan. "Now as the First and Second fleets have been damaged further by the Battle of Konoha, they will remain at that system to defend it along with the Eighth Fleet. I have recalled the Fourth and Fifth Fleets to bolster Konoha's defenses while the other fleets repair. You would remember them as the fleet that defended Earth against Darth Ebolus' fleet, and as Earth is protected by many dozens of other interstellar nations, I wouldn't feel bad about using the 4th and 5th as defense fleets for a while. The Ninth fleet will remain at Konoha as well on standby."

"So..." I rubbed my hands. "Any questions, suggestions or comments before we activate our plan?"

Whitfield paused for a moment. "Where's Admiral Makaryk when you need him? I am only the politician." He flashed Daniel a wry grin.

"On a more serious note, I would suggest transphasic torpedoes for dealing with the Death Star superlaser and the Executor. And I would hope that the Woodian fleet would do a bit more than serve as a flank. We destroyed nearly as many Huntaerian vessels in the fifteen minutes after our arrival as you did in the three hours before we arrived."

I nodded. "I know that. This is basically a Coredian-centric plan, so what we need to do is decide where best to put the Woodian fleet for maximum effect. Think you can raise Admiral Makaryk for this one?"

"Yes, it'll take a few minutes to drag him down here though. Do you expect ground force intervention to be required?"

"Last we checked, Master Press Tilton and the Godulans have already taken care of the enemy ground forces." I smirked. "So I don't expect ground elements to be needed. Bring the Admiral down here, if you please."

The Dominion fleet was ready and waiting. The Zoids were loaded back into the army carrier Ha’Taks. The clones ready to fight, the animal-men prepared to fight until their last breath of air. The fighter pilots ready to cut into the enemy ranks. The Zoid pilots ready to get to the surface and fight with their friend Zoids.

All was going to be fun for the Dominionites. But when we they get to fight.

The Dominion was ready to flank to the right side of the Cordian fleet, in which they moved into their place as they waited to jump to Jurai.

All that was need was the order to jump, giving by the Lightning Emperor.

OOC: Sorry, for the small post. Could not think of anything else but that.

"So..." I rubbed my hands. "Any questions, suggestions or comments before we activate our plan?"

Lafiel stepped up into the conversation seeming like ages since she spoke. She had been carefully going over the plans while other matters are being attended to. "For an Abh contingent we can provide enough artillery fire from what missle cruisers we have to keep any Star Destroyers busy while allied ships move in to deal with Imperial engine and ship systems. Along side that barrage, there are a number of Rambirds still parked within the fleet that can help bring down ship systems and shields with their capital class Ion cannons.

If the Executor is the flagship here, then Rambirds can help bring down the shields while Whitestars move in for strafe runs along the hull. They are the fastest ships we have to offer. If you provide my pilots with a technical readout, then they will know where to look for weapon ports and ventalation shafts. Our Paryunu destroyers and Victories will make up the bulk of our heavy vessels for the Abh and can be utilized wherever you need them. If we are hitting them from behind, then a couple Victories might be able to score a devastating hit.

Moving on to the Death Star, if you are not interested in capturing it then we can have it destroyed from the inside provided that we have the proper data and it can be lured into a designated area."

"You have good points there, Lafiel." I nodded. "As for the technical readouts, I'll have my people send your people all we know on the Executor as soon as possible. In the meantime, when do you want to strike, with the Third Fleet or with the main assault?"

The general shook his head as he stood up to follow the Coredian. It was the same the galaxy over. He touched one little thing they didn't want to talk about, or give an exact answer too, or stand up and defend, and off they ran. Being a general with a hobby in debating, he couldn't help but compare it with an enemy that retreated at every breakthrough.

The Coredians he could understand and respect. He had listened to their reasoning and made them listen to his. He had seen their blood on the snow. He had seem them fight for their lives and make him fight for his.

But these others... he had yet to see a Godulan fight. Their creations were weapons, nothing more, and they hadn't been wielded very effectively. Ploughing on through artillery fire with little support of their own... hurling light beings into a hail of bolter-fire... give them a division of his own soldiers and he was confident he could win every time, all other things being equal.

"Herr Tilton. Let's look at the situation. You have a large number of Boozian troops with their equipment in your custody. They have commited acts which are against your laws, but I don't believe there is anything to say they apply to us. That, of course, works both ways: if you killed us all now, there's nothing we could do about it. So the only way forward is for both of us to reach a satisfactory agreement. Or you could massacre us all, but somehow I suspect you're more careful with moral high ground than our holier-than-though friends."

"You have good points there, Lafiel." I nodded. "As for the technical readouts, I'll have my people send your people all we know on the Executor as soon as possible. In the meantime, when do you want to strike, with the Third Fleet or with the main assault?"

"Perhaps both. Our destroyer groups and Rambirds can provide additional firepower to the Third Fleet while the Whitestars and artillery ships arrive with the main assault fleet to take care of the Executor once it arrives."

HOLONET BROADCAST

The brave features of an Imperial spokesman materialised into view, his direct holo image appearing on countless screens and pads all over the Galaxy.

"Today loyal citizens of the New Order we celebrate our realisation of an Empire of time. Today friends is a day which heralds in greater security for us all. At 0600 hours this morning Coruscant Standard time the Emperor announced publicly the completion of the second breed of battlestations to be released onto active service.

*The images flicker away from the studio to great shipyards above Endor. Commentary begins.*

Much akin to her predecessors these newest designs have been reported by Imperial command to outdate all existing Super Star Destroyer classes and, make fighter combat an impossibility on today's modern battlefield. Though most specifications are being held secret by Imperial High Command, we can expect swift victories over the rebellion.

This news is very welcomed by the public after recent sketchy reports of an Imperial defeat above Jurai. Earlier today I contacted the office of the Emperor, which has firmly denied any such event occurring. Unofficially however GNN received this more detailed comment on the unfolding situation."

*The camera still pans over the shipyards of Endor. And the Commentators voice begins again.*

"Have we suffered a defeat above Jurai?"

"I can understand while enemy sympathisers could attempt to destroy the reality of the situation into a defeat, however the emperor saw fit that after the decimation of the Coredian military remnants upon the planet, that in order to preserve innocent life we had to begin evacuation procedures of our assets. I would like to take this opportunity to point out that unlike ourselves the Coredians are a ruthless people, they refuse to surrender, sending women and chidden into battle while the men hold the back lines, forcing their families to fight for a futile and unfathomable cause. Thankfully our Stormtroopers are conditioned against such immoral conduct on the field of battle, and do not consider ill armed and equipped women and children to be a military target. Therefore, presented with such a moral dilemma, it was decided by the Emperor himself that Imperial forces should leave Jurai altogether."

"I then asked my source if he thought this was the right course of action."

"Naturally, the Emperor understands the sanctity of life, especially human life. There was no reason for us to remain on the planet after all, we had cleared it of any potential threats that could contribute to the Coredian war effort. Within two weeks we had achieved all of our strategic goals."

"Do you think the Coredians will retaliate."

"Probably, they don't respect life the same way that you and I do, which is why the Emperor has seen fit to re-establish the Faster than light Inhibitor corridors again. Intelligence networks within rebel forces are alerting us of possible terrorist attacks upon major population centres such as Coruscant."

"The rebels are understandably pointing out that the new line of warships are just an effort by the emperor to consolidate his power?"

"Not at all, contrary to popular belief the Emperor isn't concerned with personal power, only the right to serve his people. I think we can see this very clear in the first few years of Imperial government. The Emperor after leading the Galaxy out of civil war, and re-establishing a central government didn't desire a total dictatorship, until of course senators attempted to hand classified information into enemy hands."

"Is the return of the senate conceivable."

"The emperor is eager to begin the democratic process again, however terrorists and rebels are making the process impossible."

"So our deadlock to democracy is the Coredians?"

"Exactly."

"Well there you have it, straight from the Imperial Palace itself. I think, in light of the information we've seen here we need to ask serious questions about the mysterious Coredians. Do they desire peace like they claim? Are they really fighting for "freedom", or is their emperor Daniel Masaki simply focused upon taking the Imperial throne?

I think it's clear, that the rebellion has only chaos in sight. Where was the aide for the people of Jurai in their time of need? It took Imperial forces to send medical supplies and financial assistance. Where were the Masakis when their people cried out for help? Waging war in some far off Galaxy. Make no mistake friends, the rebellion is chaos."

"Perhaps both. Our destroyer groups and Rambirds can provide additional firepower to the Third Fleet while the Whitestars and artillery ships arrive with the main assault fleet to take care of the Executor once it arrives."
"A good idea." One of the other high commanders replied with a nod. "The mission can be parceled out that way."

The general shook his head as he stood up to follow the Coredian. It was the same the galaxy over. He touched one little thing they didn't want to talk about, or give an exact answer too, or stand up and defend, and off they ran. Being a general with a hobby in debating, he couldn't help but compare it with an enemy that retreated at every breakthrough.

The Coredians he could understand and respect. He had listened to their reasoning and made them listen to his. He had seen their blood on the snow. He had seem them fight for their lives and make him fight for his.

But these others... he had yet to see a Godulan fight. Their creations were weapons, nothing more, and they hadn't been wielded very effectively. Ploughing on through artillery fire with little support of their own... hurling light beings into a hail of bolter-fire... give them a division of his own soldiers and he was confident he could win every time, all other things being equal.

"Herr Tilton. Let's look at the situation. You have a large number of Boozian troops with their equipment in your custody. They have commited acts which are against your laws, but I don't believe there is anything to say they apply to us. That, of course, works both ways: if you killed us all now, there's nothing we could do about it. So the only way forward is for both of us to reach a satisfactory agreement. Or you could massacre us all, but somehow I suspect you're more careful with moral high ground than our holier-than-though friends."
"We don't go for massacres." Master Tilton said. "It's not our modus operandi, so we'll have to do something else. I propose this, we allow you to leave unharmed and in return, we shall insist on compensation in the form of either money, technology, or both."

"We have money, although not on hand, so an exchange will be necessary. Neutral territory. Unarmed vessels. As to technology, you have to be more specific, you want sensor arrays or industrial tractors or what?"

There was a muffled bout of shouting which grew in volume as more soldiers joined in for the sake of it, and a com beeped on Ernst's belt he flicked it up to full volume so Tilton could here.

"It's General-Major Klaroth here. The Imperials have already got propaganda all over the holonet and it's convincing, too. Certainly enough to cover up any news of a defeat. But I have an idea."

He glanced at Tilton, then turned back to the little device.

"Go on."

"Ask our hosts if they can transmit to the holonet and get me the most burnt out, twisted hulks and a good public speaker and I can have a direct counter-statement ready in three hours."

"Well, that's my propaganda and intel guy, and you heard his question."

"Last we checked, Master Press Tilton and the Godulans have already taken care of the enemy ground forces." I smirked. "So I don't expect ground elements to be needed. Bring the Admiral down here, if you please."

"He will be here shortly; please allow me to go fetch him," Whitfield replied. "I'll be back in a few minutes..."

The Jedi Master left to send a clear transmission to one of the Woodian Super Star Destroyers in Konoha orbit, directing Admiral Makaryk to get his rear end down here post haste. However the communication was not solely one-way; the ship's crew reported receipt of a most interesting Holonet transmission; origin identified as the Galactic Empire but its broadcast location unknown.

"Prime Minister Whitfield, commscan has identified Galactic Empire propaganda circulating on the Holonet concerning their reported withdrawal from Jurai. It claims that they withdrew to protect the sanctity of human life. Of course, more likely that the Imperials couldn't deal with scorched earth..."

Whitfield nodded, telling the comms officer to upload the Holonet broadcast to his personal data projector for later review. Apparently his services as a politician might be needed...

A couple of minutes later, some random shuttle landed on the ground, and a tall, lanky man in full military uniform stepped out, completely unescorted. Apparently he felt that being in the presence of the Prime Minister was enough protection...or perhaps it was because Fleet Admirals were actually expected to be able to defend themselves, even if from others simply trolling for a promotion. Or some combination of the two.

At any rate, Admiral Makaryk bowed to Whitfield, before Whitfield told him that Daniel Masaki was planning an operation to verify the Empire's withdrawal from Jurai...

The Admiral was most interested, and the two wasted no time in getting back to Daniel Masaki.

"Sir, there's a wideband transmission from the Empire." A soldier replied. "GNN."

"That propaganda machine?" I asked, interested. "Onscreen."

HOLONET BROADCAST

The brave features of an Imperial spokesman materialised into view, his direct holo image appearing on countless screens and pads all over the Galaxy.

"Today loyal citizens of the New Order we celebrate our realisation of an Empire of time. Today friends is a day which heralds in greater security for us all. At 0600 hours this morning Coruscant Standard time the Emperor announced publicly the completion of the second breed of battlestations to be released onto active service.

*The images flicker away from the studio to great shipyards above Endor. Commentary begins.*

Much akin to her predecessors these newest designs have been reported by Imperial command to outdate all existing Super Star Destroyer classes and, make fighter combat an impossibility on today's modern battlefield. Though most specifications are being held secret by Imperial High Command, we can expect swift victories over the rebellion.

This news is very welcomed by the public after recent sketchy reports of an Imperial defeat above Jurai. Earlier today I contacted the office of the Emperor, which has firmly denied any such event occurring. Unofficially however GNN received this more detailed comment on the unfolding situation."

*The camera still pans over the shipyards of Endor. And the Commentators voice begins again.*

"Have we suffered a defeat above Jurai?"

"I can understand while enemy sympathisers could attempt to destroy the reality of the situation into a defeat, however the emperor saw fit that after the decimation of the Coredian military remnants upon the planet, that in order to preserve innocent life we had to begin evacuation procedures of our assets. I would like to take this opportunity to point out that unlike ourselves the Coredians are a ruthless people, they refuse to surrender, sending women and children into battle while the men hold the back lines, forcing their families to fight for a futile and unfathomable cause. Thankfully our Stormtroopers are conditioned against such immoral conduct on the field of battle, and do not consider ill armed and equipped women and children to be a military target. Therefore, presented with such a moral dilemma, it was decided by the Emperor himself that Imperial forces should leave Jurai altogether."

"I then asked my source if he thought this was the right course of action."

"Naturally, the Emperor understands the sanctity of life, especially human life. There was no reason for us to remain on the planet after all, we had cleared it of any potential threats that could contribute to the Coredian war effort. Within two weeks we had achieved all of our strategic goals."

"Do you think the Coredians will retaliate."

"Probably, they don't respect life the same way that you and I do, which is why the Emperor has seen fit to re-establish the Faster than light Inhibitor corridors again. Intelligence networks within rebel forces are alerting us of possible terrorist attacks upon major population centres such as Coruscant."

"The rebels are understandably pointing out that the new line of warships are just an effort by the emperor to consolidate his power?"

"Not at all, contrary to popular belief the Emperor isn't concerned with personal power, only the right to serve his people. I think we can see this very clear in the first few years of Imperial government. The Emperor after leading the Galaxy out of civil war, and re-establishing a central government didn't desire a total dictatorship, until of course senators attempted to hand classified information into enemy hands."

"Is the return of the senate conceivable."

"The emperor is eager to begin the democratic process again, however terrorists and rebels are making the process impossible."

"So our deadlock to democracy is the Coredians?"

"Exactly."

"Well there you have it, straight from the Imperial Palace itself. I think, in light of the information we've seen here we need to ask serious questions about the mysterious Coredians. Do they desire peace like they claim? Are they really fighting for "freedom", or is their emperor Daniel Masaki simply focused upon taking the Imperial throne?

I think it's clear, that the rebellion has only chaos in sight. Where was the aide for the people of Jurai in their time of need? It took Imperial forces to send medical supplies and financial assistance. Where were the Masakis when their people cried out for help? Waging war in some far off Galaxy. Make no mistake friends, the rebellion is chaos."
Emphasis mine. Bold is important stuff. Italics is clearly propaganda.

I made notes, listening carefully between the lines of propaganda. The major points of interest is that not only does Endor now have a shipyard, they're builing a successor to the Super Star Destroyer as well as new ships. I got a glimpse, no more, of something special, but a closer look will require a intelligence operation. Secondly, the fact that FTLi inhibitors are now online in various corridors has confirmed my own intel on the subject. Many freighters, disguised as Imperial freighters, have reported being stopped at locations all around the Galaxy. Also, it seems that the better-than-expected resistance from all of Jurai's citizens stuck on the planet has helped in making conquest too expensive to maintain. Better commend the survivors ASAP.

In the meantime, it would probably be a good idea to initiate a counter-propaganda effort. Some good pictures of Jurai as of now, maybe some talk from the refugees and a plan to counter the Emperor's so-called reluctance to provide democracy because of terrorist efforts, ie the war against us.

If the Emperor Palpatine truly wanted democracy, he'd be able to do it and no one would object. As it is, I'll be talking with Whitfield as to how best to counter this with effective counter-propaganda.

"We have money, although not on hand, so an exchange will be necessary. Neutral territory. Unarmed vessels. As to technology, you have to be more specific, you want sensor arrays or industrial tractors or what?"

There was a muffled bout of shouting which grew in volume as more soldiers joined in for the sake of it, and a com beeped on Ernst's belt he flicked it up to full volume so Tilton could here.

"It's General-Major Klaroth here. The Imperials have already got propaganda all over the holonet and it's convincing, too. Certainly enough to cover up any news of a defeat. But I have an idea."

He glanced at Tilton, then turned back to the little device.

"Go on."

"Ask our hosts if they can transmit to the holonet and get me the most burnt out, twisted hulks and a good public speaker and I can have a direct counter-statement ready in three hours."

"Well, that's my propaganda and intel guy, and you heard his question."
"It may be possible to transmit to the holonet. If I understand right, the Temple has codes that could break through some of the Holonet and do what you need to do. Of course, the Empire would crack down on that, so a code is good only once, so it's best to modulate frequencies often." Master Tilton said. The Core's pretty tight. It's not likely that any counter-statements would get through, though it's nice to hope. The Midrim is our main target.

"Hiei, if you please?" The Master asked. The dark-robed youngish man nodded and disappeared silently. A few minutes later, he came back with some computer spikes and a datapad containing a few Temple codes that will allow the Boozians to break through the Holonet, even if for a short time.

"In the meantime, it would be interesting to note what you have technologically that would interest us." Master Tilton said. "Joint territory would be beneficial as well, especially if said territory can allow refugees to make new homes."

"Well, I don't exactly keep a list of tech on me, but we can get stuff straight from the national and corporate archives on Gedächtnis. As to joint territory, there's probably a thousand unhabs between here and the Boozian triangle."


Klaroth's pencil scurried furiously down the page.

"I need a corpse... in its twenties... undecayed... unmutilated... no major natural deformities."

It was amazing. He was sitting there telling an ad-hoc film crew to fetch him a man who had lived and lauged and cried a week ago. If his audience thought about the whole thing as little as him, this would be a walkover.

Not long after, he was watching the first run of the film. The basic idea was to play clips from the original and then directly counter them. It had more of an impact than saying "they said that, we reply this".

"Today loyal citizens of the New Order we celebrate our realisation of an Empire of time. Today friends is a day which heralds in greater security for us all. At 0600 hours this morning Coruscant Standard time the Emperor announced publicly the completion of the second breed of battlestations to be released onto active service.

*The scene cuts to a battered captain in her mid-thirties, sporting more medals than was the average*

"My name is Hauptfrau Porta, and I'm an infantry officer with the Boozian Expeditionary Forces. That's the "loyal citizens"..."

She practically spat the words.

"...Who got on the ground and died for your "security". I'm going to be giving you the truth, as seen by the people who were there. And the first truth is something you should have worked out for yourselves: the Coredians are not going to attack you with hordes of ravenous terrorist planets. So, who's planets are they going to destroy? Your's, loyal citizens, yours."

Much akin to her predecessors these newest designs have been reported by Imperial command to outdate all existing Super Star Destroyer classes and, make fighter combat an impossibility on today's modern battlefield. Though most specifications are being held secret by Imperial High Command, we can expect swift victories over the rebellion.

"Oh, as swift and victorious as the one on Jurai, I presume? Speaking of which..."

This news is very welcomed by the public after recent sketchy reports of an Imperial defeat above Jurai. Earlier today I contacted the office of the Emperor, which has firmly denied any such event occurring. Unofficially however GNN received this more detailed comment on the unfolding situation."

"Firmly denied? Do I need to show the loyal citizens pictures?"

*A broken Imperial flag. A twisted and wrecked hulk. A dead man.*

"Have we suffered a defeat above Jurai?"

"If you don't get the pictures, yes, you have."

"I can understand while enemy sympathisers could attempt to destroy the reality of the situation into a defeat, however the emperor saw fit that after the decimation of the Coredian military remnants upon the planet, that in order to preserve innocent life we had to begin evacuation procedures of our assets. I would like to take this opportunity to point out that unlike ourselves the Coredians are a ruthless people, they refuse to surrender, sending women and chidden into battle while the men hold the back lines, forcing their families to fight for a futile and unfathomable cause. Thankfully our Stormtroopers are conditioned against such immoral conduct on the field of battle, and do not consider ill armed and equipped women and children to be a military target. Therefore, presented with such a moral dilemma, it was decided by the Emperor himself that Imperial forces should leave Jurai altogether."

"Oh. Apparently we left Jurai all together. Maybe I'm hallucinating. Or we don't count as Imperial forces for some reason. Or that was a bare-faced lie. And the bit about the women and children is both sexist and untrue. As is the remnants comment. I'm sure you all want to see the footage."

*The victorious Coredians. A prisoner column marching to the rear. A hardfought storming action.*

"Naturally, the Emperor understands the sanctity of life, especially human life. There was no reason for us to remain on the planet after all, we had cleared it of any potential threats that could contribute to the Coredian war effort. Within two weeks we had achieved all of our strategic goals."

"Interesting. He never says what they are. Except for the one you just saw was untrue, what with the well equipped mass of Coredians sitting right outside this bunker!"


"Do you think the Coredians will retaliate."

"Probably, they don't respect life the same way that you and I do, which is why the Emperor has seen fit to re-establish the Faster than light Inhibitor corridors again. Intelligence networks within rebel forces are alerting us of possible terrorist attacks upon major population centres such as Coruscant."

"I'm fairly sure that under I'd Imperial military justice I'd already be dead for warcrimes. Let that be advice to you. The Coredians, unlike some, have justice for those who don't have any of thier own. Even us. Even you."

"The rebels are understandably pointing out that the new line of warships are just an effort by the emperor to consolidate his power?"

"Not at all, contrary to popular belief the Emperor isn't concerned with personal power, only the right to serve his people. I think we can see this very clear in the first few years of Imperial government. The Emperor after leading the Galaxy out of civil war, and re-establishing a central government didn't desire a total dictatorship, until of course senators attempted to hand classified information into enemy hands."

"So basically if the people you vote for did something he didn't like, he had them stripped of power. That's what he said without the frilly bits."

"Is the return of the senate conceivable."

"The emperor is eager to begin the democratic process again, however terrorists and rebels are making the process impossible."

"By supporting it?"

"Well there you have it, straight from the Imperial Palace itself. I think, in light of the information we've seen here we need to ask serious questions about the mysterious Coredians. Do they desire peace like they claim? Are they really fighting for "freedom", or is their emperor Daniel Masaki simply focused upon taking the Imperial throne?

"Ask him, not the government sanctioned journalist."

I think it's clear, that the rebellion has only chaos in sight. Where was the aide for the people of Jurai in their time of need? It took Imperial forces to send medical supplies and financial assistance. Where were the Masakis when their people cried out for help? Waging war in some far off Galaxy. Make no mistake friends, the rebellion is chaos."

"They may not have been there. But there soldiers and representatives were doing all in their power to help the people and the POWs. And I don't see the Emperor down here. If I did, believe you me, I'd shoot him. And a month ago I was another loyal citizen. This process of realising the regime you fight for is a seathing mass of burocratic oppression, meeting the enemy and finding he's a better person than you are, changing sides, and making a film about it is what we technically call "contact with the enemy." You should do it sometime."