The Rebel Faction

The Supreme Inquisitor walked down the high ceilinged hall adjacent to his office complex in the western end of the Citadel. The hall actually peaked outside the Inquisitor's office, the floor was five levels below. A wonderful effect was created when sun illuminated the dark hall through mirrored viewports on the roof.

" Captain, where did I go wrong?" he asked his Chief of Staff, Fleet Captain Rhoades, a man of youth and innocent ignorance. His breed was all too common in the new Fleet, the experienced non commissioned officers being promoted to command, the officers fiven flags and fleets. Academy-fresh officers and soldiers had poured into the ranks, increasing the general zeal and overall exhuberance. It did, however, reduce the average battle experience to zero among the latest cadre of Jutraalian Servicemen.

" Sir?" asked the twenty five year old staff officer.

" Ten weeks ago, I wore the uniform of the Supreme Inquisitor, now I am found more often in that of a Grand Admiral. The Inquisitoriate is loyal to me, but so is the Fleet. With both under my command, I feel ever more the politician. I despise politics."

The officer thought, saluting as an Admiral passed.

" I can offer only that politics itself is more of a battlefield than you think. Everything you say can hit a landmine in some one's deep routed psyche. Everything you say can flank an opponents arguement."

" Perhaps," del Forza replied, realizing that he was several centimeters taller than the other officer. He looked much smaller next to the Grand Admiral. " What we need to do is put all the politicans on one planet and let them run it and see how many survive a year."

" I do not imagine many would, sir," Rhoades replied.

Del Forza smiled, turning a corner towards a conference room.

" I know."

Five levels below the office of the Supreme Inquisitor, the side of the huilding diagonally skweded downward, leaving offices directly below without any access to the outside.

As was Conference Room 127 which the Viscount del Forza entered. The room was near dark, the only illumination coming from small, grey tinted lights along the floor. The table at the center of the room was a polished black, as were the chairs that sat next to it. On either end of the diamond shaped platform were high backed obsidian chairs, their occupants either high ranking officers or dignitaries of a military bearing.

The one closest to the door was empty, that at the far end as well, with a red piece of cloth draped over the back with a black crest at its center: the seat of the Inquisitoriate.

As the Grand Admiral entered, the room's dozen occupants stood. Del Forza strode by them, his hands clasped behind his back, exchaning looks only with the two Inquisitoriate guards at the far end of the room, barely noticeable in the lack of light.

High Above, almost ten meters above the officers was another grey tinted light, this one slightly larger and morepowerful, which made things in the room visible,: the guards remained shrouded in darkness.

" Be seated."

Around the table were men and women from every branch of the service. Two Fleet Admirals, Two Army Generals, an Admiral and Assistant Director of Jutraalian Intelligence, an Attache-Commandant of the Jutraalian Storm Corps, two officers of the Jutraalian Inquisitoriate, and three men from the Jutraalian Civil Defense Corps, itself a tiered para military police force that stretched across the breadth of the Empire in lieu of planetary or continental forces, preserving Imperial unity.

" I have called you from your various postings because you will, in your own right, greatly affect the coming Jutraalian campaign. Currently dubbed Case Blue, we will expand the trade corridors that separates the Empire proper from the Festung and Fortress Sectors. We will carev out an empire that connects every planet inside a vast tract of terriroty.

" To do so would occupy the Fleet in its entireity and then some, and so thus cannot be done by conventional means.

" As you know, Lord Admiral Zen has, at my request, assumed the role of Director of Intelligence. He has at his disposal a small force created for the hapan Campaign, an impractical and unrealized dream of our late Emperor. In that force, he has significant research and construction assets. I have given he and his small band of clandestine operatives a monumental task: create a weapons system, platform, or device that will allow us to wage war on a large scale, intimidate our opponents through fear, and eliminate them through action."

The room was silent before, now it screamed in the looks exchanged awkward and bemused glances amongst itself. Most oddifying were these words coming from the man who had delicately extracted the Fleet from Hoth when The Jutraalian Death Star was destroyed.

" I have no specifics on this weapon at this time: I only know that we can count on its existence and its beauty. She will rival the Death Star in terror and be as mobile as the Tarkin. She will be as heavily defended and the Galaxy Gun and as impregnable as the Sun Crusher. We will not fail as our Imperial Brethren have in wars past. It is a contingency we will plan for, but one we must avoid at all costs.

" Victory will mean our survival. Defeat...we will right back where we started."

A firey gaze washed over the Supreme Inquisitor's eyes.



" If a fighter even comes near this battle station, many of you will find yourself paiting warship hulls without gravity suits."

The Grand Admiral made his way through the south western corridor and to his office, five levels above the multi coloured marble floor from whence he had walked. Passing a female receptionist and male office manager who was in reality no more than a glorified chief secretary, the Viscount entered his office, striding in and letting the doors whoosh shut behind him.

When he found himself cut off from the world, from the galaxy beyond, he brought a hand to his shoulder and unclapsed his double breasted crimson tunic. It fell open and the Grand Admiral let out a low sigh. Making his way to a high backed chair which was similarly coloured as the Inquisitoriate tunic the he wore, he hefted a snifter of Corellian brandy from his desk and sat down.

The chair faced out over the sprawling capital, and the Corellian aristocrat took everything in. Birds flew past the blue tinted transparisteel that separated him from all else. Beyond the secure zone, a stream of repulsorlift cars, trucks, and sundry vehicles moved past in an orderly yet hurried fashion. From the landing port nearby, small transports, luxury liners, and personal vessels could be seen lifting off and touching down, an almost never ceasing strain of space worthy crates.

Affecting them all in some was the Inquisitoriate; moreover, the Jutraalian military touched them everyone. The birds were faurra, a now rare four winged beast whose colours came in pairs: primarily black with white slahses were males, dominantingly white were the females. The species had once called home the Charrin region of the Arral Continent. The area was razed to the ground and made a Fleet orbital weapons training and calibration centre. Now, what few were left made homes in the skyscrapers of the cities, their former homes hundred meter tall trees.

The repuslor lift vehicles had had a small visit from the Jutraalian Inquisitoriate. One of the premier manufactures on Despayre, Talon Industries, was run by a corrupt egomaniac who continued to lower the value of his products while intensifying their fuel consumption. While he had no agreement with the conglomerates that supplied civilian fuel, he hoped his actions would be noticed and he would be rewarded.

His actions were noticed by the omnipresent Inquisitoriate, his person disappearing and presumed liquidated, his family dispatched as well, a three of four sons found to be involved. A new corporate leader was installed: prices plummeted and value soared.

At every spaceport and vessel reception area, there was at least two officers of the Inquisitoriate: one in uniform andone without. Less than a month ago, a Republic spy saw the red tuniced lieutenant and thought his mission foiled. He attacked, seeing the junior officer as the only threat. he fired, missed, and was gutted by a homeless vagabond wearing rags glued together by filth with a dirt strewn face and perfectly cropped hair.

The Viscount del Forza was definitely proud of his accomplishments there. Jutraalia was a state to be adored.

And soon, he reasoned, standing and gazing upon the city, it would soon be feared.

" Admiral?" asked a voice from across the unlit room where the Grand Admiral sat in darkness watching the evening sun set below the clouds, turning storefronts from brick and marble and durasteel into a million shades of brown and orange.

The voice was not in the room, actually, but in fact emanated from outside the Supreme Inquisitor's office. His secretary had paged him.

" Yes?" del Forza asked, finishing glass of brandy. The bottle he had set next to him earlier was now empty, unadulterated by the sun's rays, blocked themselves by the blue tinted window.

" There is a message from Grand Admiral Jzocks."

" Did I not just see him?"

" Yes sir, but he has received a transmission from Lord Admiral Zen."

" And the message is?"

" He said,' it will be ready within the week.'"

" Thank you."

The room fell silent, and the Viscount began to chuckle, inwardly. Zen had done it. The next device of the expansion of the Empire would be complete soon.

And the Banner of Jutraalia would wave from Core to Rim.