The Rebel Faction

Trachta read calmly over the pad and the General Order on it and then nonchalantly tossed it to the ISB man on his right, who caught it and read over it calmly as well while Trachta stared across at the Grand Admiral again. The order meant nothing at all to Trachta, COMPNOR went beyond the military, it was an extension of the will of the Empire and Trachta wasn't about to let some little dispatch be thrown in his face and bow down to it. He only answered to the Emperor, if anyone, he wasn't going to let a jumped up Admiral interfere with his job.

"Do I try to tell you how to perform a fleet manuever, Admiral Desaria? No, thus do not tell me how to do my job. You do not understand anything about state security, so do not pretend that all your men are oh so loyal. I will be the judge of that, your job is to add worlds to the Empire, mine is to truly guard it from the real threats. I will meddle where I see fit and I am reinstalling those agents"

Trachta reached out and the ISB man on his left handed him another datapad. He slid it to Desaria very calmly, a vile smugness coming from him.

"Imperial Decree 199 Delta, direct from His Majesty, Emperor Hyfe. There is to be no interference with either Imperial Intelligence or Imperial Security Bureau matters as this would interefere with state security and the safety of the Empire."

"A direct order from the Emperor, Admiral, not even the Grand Marshall can override that without some effort, which I don't belive he'll take," Trachta said in a rather cold and triumphant tone.

"I suggest you stick to your war games, Admiral, and leave the real protecting to the professionals."

Etti-IV - (Before)

(Commonwealth Corporate Sector Capital)




"Just watching you makes me want a cigarra"

Natalya's eyes glanced in her father's direction as she landed another blow to the punch-bag she had been working out on.

She ignored him, and focused herself back on the bag, letting rip a furious array of short punches.

"Oh I see how it is, just because I'm dead, it means I don't exist , right?..."

Ignoring him further, Natalya instead gritted her teeth and threw her weight into a roundhouse kick almost knocking the bag off its ceiling attachment.

"am I annoying you?"

Sighing loudly, Natalya wiped the sweat from her brow with her arm, and turned to face the now grinning old man.

"don't you have anything better to do?..." She replied wearily, as she picked up a towel, and began to wipe the perspiration from her face and arms, her workout now complete.

"Just spending a little quality time with my daughter!" Responded Vinda smiling broadly...

"A little late for that don't you think?.." Natalya replied with a slight smirk, which was met with instant indignation from her elder.

"Now that was uncalled for..." He replied sourly, and Natalya turned to look at him directly...

"I was kidding..."

"Well I'm glad my predicament amuses you so..." Vinda said sarcastically, sulking.

Natalya simply laughed at this and started to tidy up her things, and just as she began, the door chime sounded...

The two paused and looked at each other...

"who is it?..." They both spoke in unison, then looked at each other again in annoyance...

A familiar voice came thru the door's comms "Achinta" (and the pair relaxed...)

"Oh hey Achinta come in, I'm done" She said hardly even looking at the door, and Mr Vinda's former bodyguard entered the room, he glanced up to Mr Vinda and nodded in greeting.

(Vinda halfheartedly raised his hand in acknowledgement , but did not speak)

"Don't mind him, he's got a sulk on..." She quipped , and a wry smile began to creep at the corners of her mouth.

[color=RoyalBlue]"well really! I'm sorry but I don't think its a laughing matter!"[/color]The indignant businessman responded testily, which only served to make Natalya smile more...

"Was he always like this?.." She asked a bemused looking Achinta..

The HRD's gaze drifted from hers to Vinda's then back again...

"Yes." He stated matter of factly, and he glanced back guiltily at Vinda who was now glaring at him open mouthed...

"of all the cheek! and you of all people!" He replied , clearly feeling betrayed by his former bodyguard.

Natalya simply laughed...

"what is it Achinta?..."

The tall white haired bodyguard clasped his hands behind his back, and surveyed her training equipment...

"Well, I thought you would want to see this.." He said mysteriously and delved his hand into a pocket and retrieved then handed a datapad to the young woman, who took it from him gingerly as she threw him a puzzled expression...

"..what is it?" Vinda asked , his curiousity piqued, and he walked up to join them both...

Natalya's brow furrowed as she read its contents, whilst Vinda became agitated, not used to being kept out of the loop...

"..well?.." He asked impatiently

Natalya lowered the pad and looked up at Achinta...

"Who is Gash Jiren?..." She asked, as confusion spread across her face...

Achinta was about to reply when he was interrupted by Vinda...

"Gash Jiren?, what about him?..." He asked, his attention now firmly focused on the data-pad Natalya was holding, she turned to look at him.."did you know him?.."
"yes, yes, even met his mother once...Why?, whats going on?"

Natalya slowly and delibrately handed the pad to Vinda... " According to this, he's dead..." She said softly...

"I'm sorry, was he a friend?" She added quickly...

Vinda's brow furrowed, as he read the pad's contents, and when he finished he looked up at them both, before finally responding...

"well?" (he demanded)

"Well what?" Natalya asked , confused...

[color=RoyalBlue]"Is this it?..." [/color]Vinda barked impetuously...

"I thought something important had happened!"

Natalya sighed , and snatched the pad away from him.

(Vinda meanwhile continued)

"Well what did you expect!? It doesn't surprise me in the least, he's a Jedi . All they ever seem to do is interfere, more trouble than they're worth, the galaxy's better off with one less religious nut running around if you ask me..."

Natalya's eyes widened as she heard him mention the word Jedi, and she began to read the data-pad's details once more.

"it says there is a funeral to be held on Ossus..."

Realising Natalya wasn't listening, Vinda had finished his rant and a look of concern spread across his face, he glanced over to Achinta disapprovingly...

"If you're thinking of going I'd suggest you forget about it..."

Natalya turned her attention towards her father...

"I most certainly am..." She said, defiantly...

Vinda snorted..

"This is all that Caprician, Tyscio's fault! he's put these silly idea's in your head!...I told you before, its a waste of time! besides you haven't got the time, you're still learning the ropes here, let alone any Jedi escapades you might be considering.."

Natalya threw an annoyed glare towards Achinta, who decided to interject...

"...actually, your father has a point, it could be dangerous. If we know about his death, then you can be sure the Empire does too, and I can guarantee they'll be watching the proceedings carefully..."

Vinda was quick to follow on..." Yes!, dangerous! Y'see Achinta knows what he's talking about" trying his utmost to reinforce the point and disuade her...

Natalya frowned, considering Achinta's words..

(Vinda continued)

"..lets not forget the political ramifications! if the Empire are indeed watching, (which we all know they will) , I'm sure they'll be keeping a close eye on who exactly turns up, I mean think about it? Can the Commonwealth afford to be seen supporting the Jedi cause!..."

Achinta nodded at Vinda's words...

"If you do decide to go, go low key, keep a low profile..." Achinta said, ignoring Vinda's vocal protestations...

Natalya looked up at the Bodyguard and smiled faintly...

"..thats just it, with my face plastered all over the holonet, I'll be surprised if anyone doesn't recognise me!..." She replied sighing...

It was true, since the happenings upon Bonadan, her life had been thrown into a celebrity status, a status which she was deeply uncomfortable with, and not quite ready for...

"I want to go" She said firmly, and Vinda groaned...

Achinta nodded at her decision...

"..I think its important that the Commonwealth acknowledges him, he was obviously an important figure, and deserves respect.."

"Very well, then I shall take care of things on Bonadan" Achinta replied...

(Vinda threw his hands up in defeat)

"you're as stubborn as your Mother!" he said , rolling his eyes..

Natalya, walked over to him and planted a kiss upon his cheek...

"It'll be fine, don't worry, besides, I'll have you to keep me company..."

Vinda grumbled something incomprehensible under his breath...

"..alright, but just don't switch me off, I hate it when you do that..."

With that, he disappeared, and Natalya thanked Achinta as he took his leave then stepped into the refresher.












Ossus

The present...




Natalya pushed her way through the throngs of people coming and going , most it seemed had heard about the now deceased Jedi Master , and Natalya , (partially hidden in a hooded robe), picked her passage amongst them.

Only stopping to look up at the huge Statue of the great man himself...

...God that man had an ego!... Vinda said as her eyes settled on the man's face...though not out aloud, this time he was speaking via the implant and as a result, nobody but her could hear him.

The young woman couldn't help but smile slightly at his comment...

...reminds me of someone else I know... (She thought back, in quick reply)

...touche...

That reminds me, don't talk through the whole thing, or I'll be forced to turn you off...its distracting... (Natalya thought quickly)

...wouldn't dream of it...

...and don't you even think about materialising halfway through either, this is a funeral, not a ressurection...

Vinda simply laughed.



Slowly, Natalya found her way to the Funeral grounds and joined the huge congregation already gathered, keeping at the back, incognito.

And as the service appeared to start , she heard her father whisper...

This oughta be worth a laugh...

Rolling her eyes, Natalya mentally projected an image of the businessman being decapitated, and he fell silent quickly...

Silus sat, staring unmoving at the empty training hall before him. There were no sabres aglow, blazing and crashing into each other. There were no students sitting and concentrating on the floating rock before them. There were no students. There were no teachers.

The silence rebounded off the walls and was deafening. Silus tried to break it by humming "A Gungan and his Kaadu" but stopped the tune when a chorus of echoes bounced back at him. It was all for the better; he hated that song when sober.

There was a sound in the silence of someone walking and not making any noise at all.

"You don't exist. I know you don't exist. You died, and I never knew you. You're just an illusion, dammit!"

"That's no way to talk to your mother, Silus," she replied and took a seat next to him.

"Why aren't you at the funeral?"

Silus sighed. "Because-"

"Because he's dead? Because, no matter how much you believe in your own end, no matter how soon or how badly you believe it will be, you're afraid of death."

Silus snorted, "I am not afraid of-"

"Of course you are. Everyone is afraid of death. It's a certainty, and that is what damn well scares them. So I ask you, why are you really here and not at Jiren's funeral?"

"What good would it do? I never knew him, I never fought with him. He was a Rogue Jedi Master, and one of the best. And like even the best among the Jedi, he died. He will be mourned. But there is no reason for me to go the funeral and pretend at sorrow."

"What if it were Vodo's? Or Leia's. Or Dolash, or Frakutsk, or Kenshin. What if it were one of your own apprentices? Would you not be there for them?"

"Now that isn't fair..."

"Why? Why wouldn't you be there for Jiren? Because a slight difference in his Order? He fought just as hard as you have, he felt just as strongly as you have. He died just as strongly as you would. And now when comes the chance for you to give him this small courtesy, you turn your back on him. Stop thinking, Silus. For once, stop thinking and act." His mother faded away.

Silus sat for instantaneous eternity. Finally, he said, "Frak it."

And then he stood.

The rotation of the floating holographic projection of the galaxy kept the Supreme Commander spellbound. How many times had he viewed this with the simple, concrete goal of crushing his enemies?

Enemies of the Empire.


He looked at the report on the datapad in hand and let it drop onto the glassy black conference room table, above which the galaxy seemed to spin.


He had made a mistake. It was plain and it was simple.


He should have destroyed Hyfe when he had the chance. When the Jedi Corps was launched and when the demands of those internal demons, apparitions really, were screaming full force.

The set up was flawless.

Interpose another Reign inside the Coruscant yards and destroy it on the day of an official visit by the Regent. With no Regent, the path was open for him to put the blame on someone else, a terrorist faction, the Coalition, the Dragons! And the military would have answered.

The population could have been solidified behind a war and the Sith kept off tract by immediate military support to strike at various Jedi installations, perhaps even Naboo itself bringing down the damned Jedi Order Temple once and for all.

An while the military was engaged, while the Sith were intent on destroying the Jedi, the Bastion Conclave could have moved into the Imperial Districts of Coruscant elminating anyone who was known to be a supporter of Daemon Hyfe.


Daemon Hyfe, the force user whose ability to distinguish reality from fantasy was fast decreasing. Daemon Hyfe, whose hold on reason was slipping. Daemon Hyfe, whose plans to assassinate both Azrael Zell and others he felt a threat to his power were uncovered. Daemon Hyfe, who would have moved to destroy Kaine himself sooner or later.

With the stench of such treachery removed, Simon Kaine would have set himself up as the next Emperor. The Jedi would have fallen on Naboo, the Sith would be quelled for the moment, the military would have crossed over the weak borders of the Coalition conquering them once and for all.


And then...


The Dragons...


The Spectres of the Truth whispered to him. The Faces of the Dead demanded it of him. And now, he wondered if there would be a future of Infinite Machinery.



But that time had passed. Rather than the glorious rise he had envisioned, his play on the galactic board of domination had been usurped.


The rules had been broken.


His eyes narrowed at the galaxy floating before him, taunting.


It was a creature of the future, a Dracconis (the distinction between the Dragon lost to the Imperial Commander) had stopped Kaine's final play and the moment was lost.


A creature who had hinted Of Endings so unimagined that Kaine felt himself losing his own grip on reality.


The Themien War was over and had left him tortured. Again, a being from the future intervened. But it was not that which bothered him. The creatures they had fought, the faces behind the Themien mask, were as if they were designed by pure evil itself. The horrors he'd seen on the world of Belkaden would be with the Supreme Commander until his dying day.


The galaxy swirled and colors faded in and out as he began to factor in actual political and ideological divisions.


If the galaxy were left to the Azguards, currently one of the most powerful races within the Galactic Coalition, they would be content to lead everyone down the path of their mythical gods. And if left In the Hands of the Gods, they would be treading a path that would only end in the fall of the human race. For they were Azguard gods.

The sheer fanaticism of their beliefs led directly to the Battle of Corellia. Nevermind the fact that the attack, hell their entire war was ill conceived and ill carried out. It showed them to be a foe of an implaccable will.

Such was seen in the reports that he called up and displayed on the conference room table. Despite the crushing blow to their industral capacity that Kaine visited upon them, their Coalition was not dissolving under the strain. Their economy was in shambles and yet they persevered. They should have died and as their Coalition shattered, the Empire would have taken it's place.

And now?

Now, their economy was recovering. Even beaten, they continued and their Coalition bond remained.


What was he seeing here?


The last hurrah of a dying race? The final consolidation of a Kingdom before it is overrun by their betters?

Or something more?


Kaine shook his head silently and switched off the reports. The Axioms of Evolution made the Empire possible. It demanded the acts that the Empire carried out in secret. The acts that removed the possibility of another Rebellion, of yet another Civil War.

No. There were no gods.

Kaine's eyes burned at the rotating galaxy.

No. The fate of all would be In the Hands of Mortals.


Fleet deployments, troop movements and planetary defenses suddenly was called up and the shape of the galaxy changed.


Those ships, men and materials lost to the Themien War scrolled across another monitor. The ships and materials lost to the machines from Utropollus Major were also included.


Yes. Hyfe should have died and Kaine had made that mistake. And while the men, ships and material could be replaced, it showed an unprecidented waste.


And now the game became more complicated. For not only was he maneuvering to keep the balance within the Empire, to keep one piece from eating the other pieces and thus breaking down what he fought so hard to attain but he was still maneuvering once more against the growing strength of enemies that should have died. And now, even against enemies from a future he could not see.


How much had been changed by just two interventions?


The force-users were supposedly known for their visions of the future but who to trust? The Jedi Order on Naboo? They'd die before they'd help the Empire. No, they were single-minded in their fanatical beliefs. The Sith? They'd sooner assume the role of master manipulator and have him dance to their tune. They were as self serving as the Jedi they loathed.

Of course, there was always the cop-out "always in motion the future is. Difficult to see." Well, could they see the future then or couldn't they?
And if they can't, then they should just shutup about their 'abilities'.

No, force users were merely a means to an end.

For that would merely be another racial war of the future and Kaine saw it plainly. Once the galaxy submitted to the Empire, there would be only one more enemy left.

The force users. Even if human, could they really be called human anymore? Or would they begin to think themselves the next step in evolution?



They had reached Endgame but there was still pieces in play. And though he had won the game of his time, the question that remained was just how those pieces that were left were going to leave the board?


What damage would they do before they were removed?


How would the board change?


And what would be left to the next generation?


What Legacy would they inherit?


It was something that Palpatine never prepared for. It was something that Hyfe never considered. Ironically, it was something the Jedi gave no thought too... Always their minds on the present.


The galaxy stopped rotating.


But the future is something I very much think about..., he sat down in a comfortable leather chair at the table drumming a gloved hand over the smooth surface. I cannot change the fact that Hyfe is alive. Therefore, he will be controlled by the Jedi Corps. Trachta will attempt to control the Corps but he will find that difficult. So to see what he is made of, we provide a distraction for him. We compell him to draw close to an Emperor who is suspicious of the Intelligence Community. Hyfe knows the story of Isard's control of the Imperial Government through her capture of the Regent Exceron and he'll be damned if he allows those agencies close again. And what better way to draw the intelligence community's ire than with military arrogance? And who better to flaunt that arrogance than an aristocrat?
But what to do about the Sith?


He entered a code and Xa Fel's position glowed brightly in the hologram.


What to do?


And as he noted a report by General Ming he smiled. An assignment carried out perfectly and was simply awaiting the plan to formulate around it's eventual activation. He looked over the figures for the incubation period and then turned a report by Captain Merrik of the ISD Insidion.


Yes, even with the game won there were still many powerful pieces on the board and moves left. And there was still much he could do in the time he had left.


Perhaps time to wipe it clean of enemy pieces.


Even if they did come from the future..

*

"Supreme Commander?" came a voice, intruding into his silence.


"Yes, Captain Sveli?"


"You might want to know Sir. This came in over INS. Gash Jiren is dead."


"Is it confirmed?" Simon asked.


"Yes sir. Independent confirmation. It's on the holonet everywhere though different worlds gave the news different priorities."

"Thank you, Captain." And the comm went dead.


And Simon sat back remembering the old Jedi. He had nearly been destroyed by the New Republic General during the Battle of Dantooine. They had actually fought against Thrawn together. Shadows on a Fist, Searthen had claimed them to be. Simon had heard that the Jedi even fought with Hyfe against the New Empire and the horrors of the Wrath Virus.
From Sith Master to New Republic General, the Ministry of Propaganda had a field day with his reputation. And yet, it never seemed to stick.


The man was a force unto himself.


And now he was gone.


A piece was removed from the board.


But what it would signify he could not yet say.


For what Legacy did Searthen "Gash" Jiren leave?


And how would that affect my plans?


He then paused and deliberately stood, moving over to the viewports of the stars outside. And the familiar thought crossed his mind whenever he planned....


What if all my opening moves fail?





And a shadow of a grin formed...


Then I too break the rules.



...the grin widened.


And spit in the eye of posterity.




And a plan began to form....

Evening of Gash Jiren's death, Hours after the COMPNOR-Guard Meeting


Night fell on Coruscant as it fell on a million other worlds - the sun disappeared beyond the horizon while the moon(s) took its place as master of the skies. To the onlooker below, it seemed as if the struggle for power, for dominance never ceased. Each had its moment of total glory, of total control. That glory, as it had been said in a million different languages, was fleeting. The sun had noon and the moon had midnight but it lasted only a fraction of a second then the descent continued. True victory was possible only when no other force remained to challange - as long as an opponent, any opponent, remained, war would live.


The struggle could not end. War would thrive.


It is for that war that I was born.


Black great-coat about him, concealing his white uniform from prying eyes, Grand Admiral-Baron Telan Desaria gazed into the night. Only one identifying banner flew from the top parapet of the Palace, Director-General Trachta having taken his leave before the sun's graceful ebb. Many of the officers, Navy, Army, Fighter Corps, and above all Guard, collectively sighed relief for the greatest threat in their eyes to internal security had departed. Many many levels above, Grand Admiral Desaria knew better.


A draw today. What tomorrow? No COMPNOR or ISB soldier will set foot on a ship of the Guard, or any regular vessel attached thereto, but what of the brave men who serve without hesitation on those ships beyond my grasp? How much must they suffer at the hands of those bent on torture? I can understand the need for security, and I laud the search for those unture, but what of the day when they have rooted out all - upon whom will their angry eyes fall.


The meeting between the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Guard and the mechanically-veiled Director-General had been surveiled and sent by special courier to the office of the Grand Marshal. Kaine had been the patron of the Guard since its inception and had the total respect of every man therein though none more than its leader.


Perhape he can put a stop to this madness, if any one can. Simon can stop Trachta before he goes too far.


Grand Admiral Desaria removed a fine cigar from his inner-breast pocket and brought flame to the end. Sweet aroma wafted about, savored only instantly before the strong wind of a kilometer's height gave chase, the scent dissipating. The Commission for the Preseveration of the New Order along with the Imperial Security Bureau were perhaps the only two incarnations of the Empire's to have bucked and begotten change. Rather than work to better those who served without fault they had grown more ruthless and broadened the scope of mass arrests, torment, and execution. Desaria inhaled and enjoyed the perks of his class.


He will have seen today as a victory, no doubt doubling the compliment of his minions on every other ship in the fleet. I abated a crisis today, but only marginally - had I not simply acknolwedged his orders from the Emperor himself, the coming weeks and months might have brought the Guard to its knees. I learned long ago that the sacrifice of my honour for the honour of the Empire was honourable in itself, so too will it be to save its people. We can only pray to the Gods that the way of Order is restored.


Desaria retired into his office and shut the double-paned glass-inlaid door behind him, shutting out Imperial City from his mind. A parade in the Emperor's honour was being held not a hundred kilometers away and he decided to attend. Taking his peaked cap, the Grand Admiral made haste to forget the plight of his beloved State.


If only thought were enough - since it is not, the Empire have birth to the Guard.