“And where do we stand? Coruscant has fallen, and the Republic is under assault from all sides. The Jutraalian Empire remains isolated, thrown into disarray by the abdication of Emperor Fearsons. The Galactic Defence Initiative is dead, and the Hapan Consortium cares not for the galaxy outside the borders of their precious space.” The figure sighed and leaned back in the large, black leather executive chair, exhausted. The last month had been a nightmare, and it was an ongoing one, at that.
“Dxun, I have no idea where I am, anymore.” The other figure, the cloaked shape of Dxun Isstal, turned. His face was gaunt, lined with age and fatigue. It had only been a year since Seti had last seen the former Supreme Commander… but it seemed a century. The man who had led the Galactic Defence Initiative to its final end had aged ten years in the past one; the effects of a lifetime surrounded by war and death had finally caught up to him. But his mind was, it seemed, still fresh. Presently, he nodded.
“The galaxy devours its own children, Seti. We come to the full circle. The Rebel Alliance smashed the Empire and took Coruscant away from them in rivers of their own blood. The Empire resurges, Seti. They emerge from the darkness and enter the spotlight. The Republic will fall.” The businessman gave a sad nod. He could analyze the situation, as any businessman could. But Dxun Isstal could, it seemed, see further than that. Behind the aged face and disgruntled exterior, rested a genius.
“And the Republic’s collapse will leave the galaxy in pieces. And who do you think will be left to pick up those pieces?” There was silence, save for the pounding of rain on the windows outside.
Now... Commenor
Headquarters Building - Lobby
The man made no pretence at being friendly. He stalked past two LFX Home Defence Corps. security officers without acknowledging their greetings, and entered the vast building that housed LFX Industrial’s galactic headquarters. Without saying a word, he pushed through the lines of people waiting in the lobby and approached one of the receptionists – a bubbly young Twi’lek girl with a blue tint to her skin.
“I have a message for Seti Ashar.” He announced shortly, his voice a mixture of anger and resignation.
“Okay. I’ll just need your name and a copy of the message.” The man said nothing, but slowly reached into the pocket of his trench coat and grasped something.
Then the lobby erupted into fire as the bomb strapped to the man’s chest exploded, rocking the monolithic headquarters of LFX Industrial.
Headquarters Building – Top Floor
"Who is left to pick up the pieces, Dxun? The galaxy has been turned completely upside down." Rain poured down from the black heavens once more, pounding against the windows of the newly reconstructed Commenor headquarters of LFX Industrial. It was as if, on the anniversary of the eve of the Great War, the gods had once more called on the storm clouds to deliver their unrelenting fury to the people of Commenor. Those who believed in signs of the Divine would surely have called this a True Sign: a thunderstorm that turned the sky dark in the wake of a terrible and devastating war.
Seti Ashar, CEO of LFX Industrial, was not one to believe in signs. To the most powerful businessman in the galaxy – indeed, one of the most powerful men, period, in the galaxy – the vast thunderstorm was only another phenomenon of nature. And, like others, he mused; it too would pass in good time.
Seti Ashar had survived, in his time, half a dozen horrendous wars. He had been born thirty years before the Galactic Civil War, the fight for freedom between the Rebel Alliance and the Galactic Empire, and had seen that conflict come to its shattering conclusion over the Sanctuary Moon of Endor. He had witnessed the bloody conflict between the New Order and the Rogue Empire, which shook the galaxy to its very bones as another armada rallied to destroy another Death Star – this time Imperial warships assaulting Chadd Fearsons’ terrible weapon. Seti Ashar had watched as the New Order then turned its back on the Galactic Defence Initiative – and with the aide of the former Rogue Empire, now the Jutraalian Empire – attacked without mercy that faction. That war had led to the rise of LFX Industrial, and the turning of the tide for the Winger Mining Corporation and the former Tholatin Republic. And Seti Ashar had seen the fall of the New Republic and the return of the Galactic Empire, with Daemon Hyfe at its head. He had seen the New Empire’s wilful slaughter of billions through the use of the Wrath virus, and the final, suicidal, attack on that Empire by the combined forces of the New Republic, the Empire, and the Rogue Jedi Order.
The last war had torn the galaxy apart. Nearly ten billion dead to the awful Wrath virus, hundreds of thousands more from the constant fight that had lasted a year before its shattering end at the Battle of Bastion. A battle that, in itself, cost more than two million lives to win. A battle that shattered three of the galaxy’s most powerful factions. A war that shattered the galaxy itself.
“We come to a full circle. The galaxy has seen the rise and fall of many empires. This is only history, repeating itself.” He thought, turning from the windows back to the desk that stretched across the room. Spread across it were half a dozen oversized datapads and a thermos of caf. The local time was 6:15 in the morning - an hour before most of the office’s usual staff were expected to arrive. Seti Ashar appreciated the silence in the early morning. He used the time to read the half dozen news spreads that appeared on the datapads. The man was somewhat of a legend among the rest of the Corporation. He was said to leave the office at midnight and arrive back again by 5:30 every morning, ready for another long day. There were few men – even the famed Seth Vinda – who could match the determination and strength of mind of Seti Ashar.
It was nearly nine o’clock when the first indication that something was wrong came from the lobby. The monitor droids alerted the CEO to a somewhat unruly man in the building’s lobby, pushing through people and finally coming to the reception desk.
“I have a message for Seti Ashar.” He heard him say. It struck the CEO as odd – most messages were delivered by computer, or by a registered courier. Only twice before had a man delivered messages straight to the receptionist, and neither had been good. The first time, the man had sprayed the lobby with blaster fire, killing three and wounding half a dozen before security personnel burst from their hiding places and cut him down. The second had released four grenades that turned out to be filled with a poisonous gas that was – just barely – pumped out in time by the building’s security systems. But this building – the new one – was vastly better defended, with auto blasters concealed in the ceilings and Home Defence Corps. Guards stationed on every floor. Still…
“Okay. I’ll just need your name and a copy of the message.” Hardly moving, the man reached into his pocket to pull something out.
Then there was a bright flash; a brief picture of an expanding fireball, and the cameras went dead. The explosion rocked the building, throwing people off their feet and shattering expensive equipment. Alarms began to blare across the complex, and security personnel were running about, securing windows and outside walls from further attack.
And outside, emergency vehicles were already arriving to tend to the wounded.
“Ton,” the CEO said coldly as his Chief Executor entered the room. “Find who did this, and why, and how I can hurt them.”