The Rebel Faction

(Note: running concurrent to Apparition: Specters of the Truth)

'Why me?' lamented Tim Franklin, luckless new agent of Imperial Intelligence. For all the years of his working life, he'd sat comfortably behind a desk in a distant area of Coruscant where he could relax, do his job - which was easy, as very few local officials cared about other cultures - and go home without having been shot at once.

But his luck had changed. He'd forgotten the golden rule of his line of work: Never be too good at what you do. If you are, people will eventually want you to do more. And thats' what happened. He wrote too good a report on alien cultures on Coruscant, and it got passed up the line until an Imperial Intelligence operative got his hands on it. He must have liked what he saw, because it was less then a week until Tim was visited by II. They'd offered him a job, and what was he supposed to say?

So he took the oath, took the training, and was now mournfully reading over his first assignment, which in II must be a euphemism for "certain death".

They wanted him to investigate the unusual warping of a hyperroute between Corulag and Jatir, some place off in the Bastion Conclave. There is perhaps nothing more dangerous then poking around hyperspace to see why you can't go somewhere, and nothing makes it even more dangerous then when its' a secret hyperroute you're told not to tell anyone about or they'll shoot you.

Ah yes, Tim reflected, as he put the report away, that seemed to be one of the most popular punishments in II. Shooting. However, it was closely followed by stabbing, drowning, liquidating, and the occasional swim wearing concrete shoes. Oh well, no time for that now, another bloody storm-trooper.

"Name, passport, security pass, ID card, licence and registration, please." said the trooper who guarded the entrance to shuttle-13.2, the one that would take him to this warped secret route of theirs. His superiors - when they weren't busy sucking up to their superiors - had told him they suspected none-Imperials as responsible, and wanted him to analyse the gravitational warping and report back on what's causing it.

He nodded feebly and provided the mass of papers and chips he'd have to scan to let him through this checkpoint. Finally, the soldier deemed him worthy and let him pass into the shuttle.

It was cramped, out of date, and looked like II had had the choice of letting him use it or throwing it out. A pair of disgruntled pilots looked at him as he came in, and Tim shrank noticeably, clutching his battered suitcase close to his chest.

“Um, I guess we better be off then?”

The two pilots eventually turned to their controls, and within a few moments, they were taking off.

‘Why me?' lamented Tim Franklin, not for the last time.

Tim was jolted awake, and then out of his seat, as the shuttle shuddered back into realspace. He struggled to his feet and gazed out the window. Everything was just stars and swirling nebulae, so he turned to the pilots.

"Um, where are we?"

"You should know" said one of them, the taller one, with a smirk. "You're supposed to be the smart one around here."

"I know that" said Tim, his voice strained "But I can't see the controls from here. Where are we?"

"On the edge of that Corulag-Jati rout thing you wanted to go to. Now do your thing so we can get out of here."

Tim grumbled as quietly as possible as he went about his tasks. Lifting a long, thin antennae from his suit-case, he hooked it up to the Shuttle's computers. There was a few moments of silence, then the monitor showed the image of local hyperspace conditions. He reviewed them for a brief few minutes, as the pilots looked on with the bored looks of two people who understand something terribly interesting must have just happened for someone who spent years learning about it first.

“Yes” he said, quite pleased “Yes, I think I recognize the patterns.”

“What is it then?” Said one of the pilots, agitated.

“Well” he said, and the pilots realized they were about to bear witness to one of the universes’ more boring lectures on hyperroute activity. “These spiral patterns here might signify it must have been Imperial vessels which dug this particular “budding” of the hyperroute. Each cut is exactly the same shape, and seems to conform to some of the Empire's more popular formats. Rebels tend to use cheaper and thus less clear-cut equipment, and would not be able to afford something of this scale. Mon Calamari would have diversified their designs and thus would have left different-shaped spaces along the route. It doesn’t seem to conform to any races’ methods except our own.”

He then turned to the pilots, one of which seemed to be trying to hang himself with his belt. “Oh, you’re finished.” he said, and got down.

Tim sighed again “All right, I understand, terribly boring. Anyways, whatever we’re looking for must be down that hyperroute, therefore I think we should immediately head home and file a report, perhaps advising someone else to be sent to investigate besides us.”

“Now hold on” growled a pilot “Our orders said to find what was causing the anomalies, and no way are we getting done up for disobeying orders. You pretty-boy intel boys may get the slap on the wrist, but its’ the gallows fer us, mate. We’re going in.”

As space once again jolted in front of him into a vomit-inducing kaleidoscope, Tim thought to himself - yes, you guessed it - why me? * * * * * * * * * * * *

Interdiction Cruiser ... Liberator


"Hyperspacial reversion!" came the scans and the Captain of the vessel scowled in anger.

"How many hapless alien transports are we going to have to blast to oblivion today?"

He glanced over at a Colonel in a fairly new uniform, brandishing the insignia of the vaunted Imperial Corps of Engineers and saw his companion shrug slightly.


"Sir. Ship registers an Imperial identity.."

The Colonel's eyebrows rose slightly. "Our transport is not due for another two hours....", he started.

"..and if it's not on the schedule, yet from the Empire, it must be.." the Captain continued

"..that someone is taking an interest..." The Colonel finished. "Only, is it an intelligence branch or one of the Protectorates?"


"I guess we'll find out soon enough." the Captain murmured. Turning to a Comm. Officer, "Assign the ship a berth and have it escorted in." He smiled grimly, "Invite them politely.. but .. be insistent."

The lives of those on the intruding vessel would ride on the answer they gave.


There were, after all, Shrouds in the area providing more than enough security for the cruiser.

Turning to Colonel Gustinius Drevell, the Captain expectantly said, "Care to see who are visitors are?"


The Imperial Engineer shrugged. He had nothing better to do. Nothing, at least, until the new struts arrived. "Why not?"


And the two made their way to the hanger as the landing instructions were relayed to the visitor.

Colonel Drevell had never met anyone from any of TNO's Intelligence Communities. As far as first impressions went, however, the scab of a man before him left much to be desired.


Perhaps it was a testiment to how little Intelligence thought of this mission.


Perhaps it was not viewed as very important... Drevell could only guess.


He saw that the Captain came to the same conclusion as the little man before them stammered out his reason for being there. In a show of dominance the Captain growled out, "and what if it is?"


The Intelligence man turned into a blob of jelly.. the mucus one wipes from their boots after stepping through a swamp of slime squids. He nervously twitched out, "Uh, then I am to... uh... look over there!".

"You stay here... I'll be back" the Captain ground out as Colonel Drevell motioned for a discussion.



"I want the yellow bastard shot!" the Captain whispered harshly.

"Why bring more questions to an already sensitive area, Captain? It looks to me that Intelligence does not place much priority in this mission or they would have sent someone more... assertive. Give the man an answer and send him on his way."


The Captain saw the sense in the statement though he did not like it. Looking at the wimping agent, he did not like it one bit. Such weakness should have been weeded out years ago.


The Captain went up to the agent who seemed to shrink a bit as the gruff ship master closed.

"We are investigating galactic anomolies and measuring gravitation pulls within this sector of space." He glared at the agent. "There! Now you know! Now get the hell off my ship and go scurry back to whatever hole you came from!"

Gustinius Drevel and another engineer entered via a wall panel, courtesy of their paranoid captain.

But why anyone would link this room with the officer's bathroom was anyone's guess. Still, the architecture of a starship was something he knew hardly anything about, which was why he had his companion.

"Lexor, the calculations are right here.." he was saying as they both moved to the table and the room's lighting came on brighter. "The outside stresses we've worked out strategically placing our Constrainers but.."


"We are doing delicate work, man!" the other engineer cried in response. "The stresses of the surrounding gravitational forces have to be exact or the project will not work."

Drevell grunted, "From what I hear, the forces surrounding the area will trap Kaine's ship for good."

"A typical warship yes. But remember, this is Raptor we are talking about. It's supposed to cut through gravity like paper. Imagine, Colonel, Imperial Warships being able to outmaneuver and out flank anything existing in the galaxy!"

"Well, it's not going to happen without the figures..." Drevel was moving papers around looking for the correct one. "Now if I could just find it.."

His companion sat down scribbling down some notes on a pad he carried.

"Lex..." Gustinius' voice carried uncertainty. "It doesn't seem to be here.."

His voice trailed off. "I just came from the hanger and you.."

"I came from Comm station from the bridge delivering my update to the Grand Marshall." Lex clarified.

"Then... who..?" Gustinius looked around in confusion and turned to talk with the guards on the other side of the wall panel entrance they came through.