The Rebel Faction

Delaborde-class Star Destroyer Themis, Somewhere in the Meridian Sector

“…killed themselves. CSIS Forensics said they used suicide capsules embedded in fake teeth. Apparently, they were installed pretty recently. Some of the stitches weren’t fully out of their gums yet. The operation had to have been done pretty recently; perhaps inspired by how Fenn’s capture led to their own demise…”

General Saheel grabbed his cup of caf and gave it sip as the intelligence liaison officer continued his briefing to the senior officers of Task Force Justitia. Neither the CIC or the Army Operations Centre was particularly suited for a combined groups meeting. Instead, the group had commandeered the alabaster conference room usually used by the researchers of the Scout Lab. Krieg felt himself terribly uncomfortable in an environment that not only made no pretense to being completely artificial, but seemed to revel in it. The intelligence officer stopped talking, and the General stared up. A stony faced Commodore Valeska caught his eye. The Pedducis Chorios native offered a wry wink. Valeska turned her face back to the intelligence officer with a measured look, attempting to convey a vague interest in the topic at hand. She unfolded her hands, and gestured with open palms facing the ceiling.

“CSIS technical displays absolute brilliance in discovering the matters of these criminals. They truly are impressive,” stated the former gunnery instructor, “but as I am sure you and your CSIS counterparts can discern, Task Force Justitia has limited resources for the moment in dealing with this threat. We must truly focus on what they will do next. Where does CSIS think it likely that they will next strike?”

“Nothing is certain; not with Ka and the other Neo-Grissmath leaders on Exodos II being dead. Their suicides only give us the option of trying to decrypt their belongings, and frankly, we haven’t discovered where all of them lived, nevermind decrypt what they could possibly have, since it is likely lived under false identities. But we have managed to get out some from the lower ranking members of the party; the grunts. They were aware of an alternate target in case the Exodos II revolt collapsed before they arrived or if they weren’t needed. There were told to gather equipment and provisions for mountainous terrain, and to become familiar with some slugthrowers and older technology.”

The General’s face immediately creased into a thoughtful frown. His Cerulean eyes stared at the intelligence officer with an unnerving concentration. Not noticing the man’s expression, the Commodore shrugged indifferently.

“Which means?”

“Till Chorios,” answered the General irritably.

“Your homeworld?” questioned Drakar, Valeska’s executive officer.

“His homeworld is actually Pedducis Chorios,” corrected the intelligence liaison, “but the two planets are in the same solar system, along with Nam Chorios.”

“So uninventive,” muttered the General, “in any case, this makes things complicated. Very complicated.”

“How so?” questioned the Commodore.

“Because Till Chorios doesn’t have a unified central government,” replied the intelligence officer.

“And it’s guarded by a rather large space station,” added Krieg, “I know because the Silver Unifer considered allying up with one of their nations to obtain more war material during our civil war. But that blasted station got in the way of our plans because of some now-defunct laws they were trying to enforce for their own will.”

“And it couldn’t be defeated that easily?” questioned the Astraea’s captain.

“It’s a Derilyn-class Orbital Space Defence Station,” replied the liaison officer irately, “it’s larger than the Themis here, and it’s more heavily armed than most star destroyers. It was built by Rendili Yards for the Old Republic and the newly budding Galactic Empire in order to ensure punishment and enforcement for Bufus Ritsomas and his associate’s crimes. Ritsomas represented the planet in the Galactic Senate, but found guilty of slaving charges. The station was then used as a center to mop up the rest of the slaving ring’s operations in the area, and then by the Empire to strong-arm to agricultural supplies from the natives. After Endor, the station’s crew went independent, and basically subsisted by threatening the natives to give them whatever they wanted or face orbital bombardment. Almost pure banditry.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that-” added the General.

“Do you want to give the briefing, or should I?” interrupted the CSIS officer.

Delaborde-class Star Destroyer Themis

“Reverting…now.”

The dagger-shaped hull of the Themis cut into the fabric of realspace. Behind her, four smaller star destroyers of the La Galissonière-class fell out of hyperspace and inline with Task Force Justitia’s flagship. Solar rays from the star Nam beat down on the Confederate ships, casting their silver hulls in a borrowed, if gaudy, golden splendor. The splendor faded quickly as it was eclipsed by the Fleet’s destination: Till Chorios. It was one of the inner planets within the Chorios system, and thus had required several micro-jumps through the oddly configured system. But nonetheless, Commodore Valeska was finding it to be an agreeable journey as she stared out into space. The Chorios system was unusual that it had not one star, but four. One of them, Chorios II was located on the outskirts of the system, but the other three of them formed the desolate, center of the system: Brachnis, Nam, and Pedducis Chorii. Till Chorios orbited primarily Nam, and as the Themis and her cohorts continued their approach to the planet, Valeska continued to marvel at the system’s dangerous complexity. Glancing away from the ceraglass viewports, the former gunnery instructor noted that the fleet’s chief astro-navigator and most of the other bridge crew members too marveled at the sight. But there was a knot of army officers around the communication’s station ignored the stellar phenomena. Her XO walked up to her, staring at the army officers. The man shook his head.

“No appreciation for space.”

A grin briefly creased Valeska’s face. “I hadn’t noticed. Saheel is probably at the communication’s trying to get immediate access to land.”

“He hates space that much?”

“Apparently,” mused the woman, “considering that he’s turned his office into a rainforest, it might be the artificialness of the environment.”

“As long as it motivates him to his job,” muttered Drakar.

“Speaking of which,” mused the dark-haired woman, “we have our own objective to accomplish.”

“That Station,” stated Bendak, “Can’t that wait?”

“Are we really going to let the Army be more efficient and professional than us?”

“No,” murmured the man, “we’d be the laughingstock of the Fleet if we did…”

“Exactly,” concurred the Abhean woman, turning to her navigator, “Helmsman, put us on an intercept course for Enforcer One, and communication’s, make sure we’re being followed by our back-up. I want to make a considerable impression on them if we can.”

A simple, but powerful set of thrusters and etheric rudders nudged the Themis to her portside as the Confederation ships entered orbit on the planet’s night side. Valeska peered down at the planet, catching brief glimpses of the mountains and oceans through the planet’s atmosphere. Sunlight glinted off the planet’s horizon to reveal Enforcer One, the diablerie which had plagued the planet for well over two decades. It was massive station, consisting of a swelling telemetry node with various saucers centered out to form a spaceborne station reminiscent of Bespin, only marred by the four, partially covered dry docks attached to the main saucers rim. A voice shouted from the crewpit.

“Scanners indicate that we have a squadron of Tie Interceptors bound on an intercept course. Transponders indicate they’re from the station.”

“Scramble the alert fighters,” ordered Valeska, “and order all ships to refrain from firing unless fired upon first. All ships go to yellow alert, and get me whoever’s in charge of that station on a com line.”

As the twelve SFS starfighters surged towards the formation of Confederate warships, shields and weapons were powered up. A squadron of starfighters launched from each of the star destroyer’s bay to coalesce around their own warship; a brazen threat to Enforcer One's fighters if they dared to become too saucy. Sensors indicated that the defence station was also powering up its weapons and defences, which boded ill for Task Force Justitia. It was nearly certain that the Confederation warships could overrun the station, but at a cost which could be pyrrhic. And that in itself would foil the operation.

“We have on High General on the line, ma’am,” reported the communication’s officer.

“Not a regular Imperial title, must have really gone rogue,” muttered Valeska under her breath, “very well, patch him or her through to my command chair.”

The visage of a nearly bald man wearing a customized uniform of an Imperial general floated in front of her. His dark eyes searched the woman over, and he frowned; doubtless from the inherent distrust and disliking of women within Palpatine’s Empire. The General leaned forward.

“You have my attention, now what is it that you want?”

Valeska offered a cold smile. “High General, it seems that you have been extorting several nations with your station. I am here to end that practice.”

“Are you now,” muttered the man unapologetically, “since when was it illicit to collect taxes? And since when did any government, especially one such as your own, dare interfere with internal matters that are not your own?”

“You do not seem to realize something, sir,” replied the woman tersely, “and that is that you have threatened one of our regional allies, the nation of Schwyz, and other countries, who by an extension of their treaty with Schwyz, are our allies. We do not take kindly to those who threaten them with death. Moreover, your reasoning is more flawed that the Empire’s dream of a galaxy without aliens. The authority upon which you were established is gone, and it does not grant you the rights you espouse that you and your forces have been granted. General, I give you three options: surrender, evacuate your station and move somewhere else, or prepare to die in battle.”

“You’re bluffing,” laughed the other soldier, “you may win this battle, but it would cost too many of your people. That was always the weak side of democracy-”

“Fire Autogun Batteries One through Four,” interrupted Valeska, “at targets of their own chosing.”

A hail of minute shells volleyed off of the Themis in continuous streams. The slugs smashed into the sides of the station, piercing holes through the plating and gradually chewing sections of the station out. The lights behind the general briefly flashed. Valeska nodded.

“Cease firing,” instructed the former instructor, “let me make myself very clear, General. You will be removed, no matter what the cost. I don’t like unnecessary sacrificing my men unless I have to absolutely to. It would be rather inhumane if I did. But I will do whatever it takes to ensure a better quality of life for the people of the Confederation. If it means that my command will have to take a few more casualties. So be it. This is your last chance.”

The General stared at the woman will a dull glaze. “Give us four hours, I don’t have enough transports to get all of my people off away right away.”

“You have two hours,” replied the woman, “but I will provide enough transport to take your people to Nam Chorios, where you and your people can decide what to do next. I suggest you move far away from the Confederation, High General.”

“Very well…”

Valeska turned to face General Saheel. "It's all yours from here out."

Lambda-class Shuttle Aequitas, Till Chorios

The gray clad shuttle soared through the misty mountain skies of Till Chorios towards Zug. Winds buffeted the ship occasionally, but were mitigated the shuttle’s three stabilizer wings. Around the general’s personal shuttle, a squadron of Deathsabers adeptly maneuvered through the winds, keeping vigiliant watch against possible Neo-Grissmath forces. Onboard the craft, Lady Calla Phrog of Schwyz bantered with Saheel about the man’s latest actions.

“You sir, have you lost your mind?”

Saheel’s cerulean eyes stared at Lady Phrog impassively. “I have not. Have you? Negotiating with the Northern Alliance for a peaceful resolution is the best option we have for the good of everyone involved. It will do no good to continue the fighting.”

“Explain yourself,” demanded the noble.

“If we do not make peace, we will have a protracted war-”

“But with your country’s military might, a war would only take not even a month-”

“Military technology means nothing without the soldiers behind it,” answered Saheel, “and therein lays the problem. Task Force Justitia couldn’t bring as many soldiers as you think it could, at least not for some time. The Confederation military is somewhat demobilized right now because of its peacetime status. And even if we did, there’s a good chance that I’d be losing troops on the battlefield, which is something I will never do unless I absolutely have to. Besides, negotiations will make Till Chorios a stronger world rather than one divided and weakened by internal strife. And if everything goes as planned, your peoples will have access to galactic standard technology…like this shuttle.”

Calla frowned. “This incident has made the UPA look weak though…”

“I imagine the UPA or the Northern Alliance will mean little if there is a new central world government.”

“And how exactly do you plan to get us to agree to that?” questioned the woman vehemently, “do expect anyone to give up their power so easily?”

“Not in particular. And I don’t believe any of you will be giving up much, if any, power. A congress formed by each nation’s leaders or an appointed representatives would do little to your powers,” replied the man, “but it will do much to change the methods with which you interact with each other. Physical war will cease to exist between your nations, and instead, you will find yourself waging a bloodless, political war when necessary through talking and economics. And that is something that I imagine that you can do better than Lord Manten, milady.”

The woman nodded, “Perhaps, but if this truly develops, then it will be quite revolutionary in unexpected ways. With new technology comes new gains and problems. And with it, we will appear on the galactic scene since the station will be under your control. And that in itself gives us a situation.”

“Oh?”

“If we are on the galactic scene,” explained the woman, “we will be acting with other powers, some friendly, some not so much. But we will be acting as a somewhat united world, which gives us many problems. For if the member states of the UPA are allied to the Confederation, what is to stop the Northern Alliance from allying with another power, one that is hostile to the Confederation, or even if it isn’t?”

“I think,” replied the man, “that it is almost necessary for the Northern Alliance to ally with the Confederation. There are only two other powers in the sector that could provide the technology Manten wants. The first is the Neo-Grissmath Party, which is at odds with the Confederation and cannot really provide much in terms of civilian or military technology. And since he already has accepted their first offer, Manten knows now that the Neo-Grissmath cannot offer much compared to a galactic power like the Confederation. The second will be the Vinda-Capricia Commonwealth, and they seem to have turned a blind eye to the rest of the Sector besides Meridian itself. They won’t do anything unless there is a huge profit to be made, I think. And that is somewhat doubtful at the moment, because providing all this technology and updating various things on Till Chorios won’t be worth it economically. It’d be cheaper and more profitable to set up a new agricultural colony elsewhere.”

“Then the real only choice is the Confederation,” admitted the woman, “in which, it makes me wonder, why would your nation provide us with anything if it is unlikely that the Vinda-Capricia Commonwealth won’t?”

“Because the Confederation isn’t as interested in profit as the Commonwealth is,” replied the man, “and to be sure, the Commonwealth isn’t always interested in profit, but that’s what many of their people are into. No, the Confederation is more interested in establishing order and bettering its peoples; through economics and mutual defence. And while Till Chorios lacks technology, it has power in numbers, both in economics and military because of how your nations have competed with each other. If all of the armies of Till Chorios became equipped with modern weaponry and fell under a single command, it would be the largest and best equipped army in the sector and much space within the Outer Rim. And there can be little doubt that with more advanced agricultural technology, Till Chorios will become the Sector’s breadbasket; which while not overly finiancially profitable, is important to the people’s within the sector, particularly places such as Exodos II which can’t provide enough food by itself to sustain the needs of its own populace.”

The woman nudged his shoulder, “You can see the Grand Palace of Zug now.”

“Are you sure it isn’t one of Manten’s fortresses?”

The Grand Palace of Zug stood built into the side of a mountain, with a duracrete trapezoidal prism forming the keep of the palace, and duracrete walls with turrets forming a half-circle around it. The general spotted large, turreted missile tube launchers spaced across the settlement, and combined with its plain exterior, seemed to indeed share more in common with an Imperial fortress than the palace of a kingdom’s ruler on a distant, outer rim world. The noble woman snorted.

“I am pretty sure it is his family’s grand palace simply because it is a fortress…”


One week later…

Grand Palace of Zug, Till Chorios

Talks between the formerly warring powers and the Confederations had moved quicker than most political analysts would have thought possible. As much as the nobility had fought each other, they had almost every ideal and thought in common when considering the idea of uniting the planet; the only one previously separating their unification was who wield power over the countries. But the formation of a world congress had eliminated that problem, and with the Contegorian Confederation willing to help smooth and aide that process and provide technological aid and upgrading, there was little to discuss or banter about in the almost garish quarters of the Grand Palace of Zug. But there was one item left which neither the Northern Alliance or the United Powers Axis really cared to discuss. But it was an important one, at least for the members of Task Force Justitia and most of the Meridian Sector.

“…then there is only one matter left to really discuss,” announced Saheel, “and that is the Neo-Grissmath fighters currently employed by your state, your Majesty.”

“If Zug is part of the Confederation, and the Confederation wants the Neo-Grissmath members captured, or killed, then that is what my Kingdom will do,” replied Lord Manten, “but there is a slight problem in that. My people tried to already detain the Neo-Grissmaths when the truce was announced, but when word leaked that you were coming here for negotiations, they fled. Their freighters were too fast for my atmospheric fighters to catch…”

General Saheel nodded. The Pedducis Chorios native already knew as much, having been informed by the Themis that several freighters had lifted off of the planet. Two of the freighters had been captured in orbit by the star destroyer, but the others had managed to slip through, mainly because while Confederate CAPs had been established, there was no planetary blockade or picket fleet to control all of the space around the planet. Krieg leaned back.

“Understandable, your majesty. May I ask if your forces managed to catch any of them?”

“We have a handful,” replied the lord, “but only because they were in one of my field hospitals because they were wounded. I have them under my most trusted guards right now. They shall not escape.”

Indeed. How could they? No transportation off-planet, and anywhere on planet they’ll stick out easily enough as outsiders to be arrested. Their fate is sealed. At least we’ve managed to deny the Neo-Grissmath’s an ally, an operating base, and moreover, the Confederation has a new member. Or it will have a new member. We just have to seal the planet’s fate with but a few signatures with a stylus.

“Is that everything?” questioned Lady Phrog.

“I believe it is,” answered Manten, “we will obviously have to work out minor details as we put this world government together, but we have hammered out all that is necessary. Do you agree, General Saheel?”

“I do,” replied the officer, “it seems that all that is left is to sign the treaty.”

“Then let us do that,” stated Lady Phrog, “and let us not forestall the coming of this new era on our beloved planet…”